I can't hold on to what used to be. I can't go through life loving him this way.
It’s sick.
Twisted.
Not right.
“Damien, I—” The rest of the words get caught up in a wad of saliva when I notice Suzette staggering down the hall. My eyes widen and terror snakes through my veins at the sight of her. Her hair is frizzy and messy. All the color is drained from her face. She has purplish crescents underneath her eyes. My jaw hits the floor. “Suzette.”
I know they gave her electro-shock and I’ve witnessed the flickering lights and vibrating walls, but I’ve never seen a patient after receiving electro-shock therapy. And right now, I feel like retching.
Suzette looks as dead as Damien does sometimes.
How can the staff possibly live with themselves after inflicting this kind of torture on another living person?
Damien's eyes are on me. He doesn't even notice Suzette. “Addy, what is it?”
I don't break my gaze away from Suzette. She putters past us and I listen to her mumble, “I don't want you to touch me. I don't want you to touch me.” Her voice is vacant, lost. It's like she's in some other world where she's the only human who exists in it.
My eyes follow her down the hall as she uses the tan plaster to support her weight and keep her knees from buckling. It's during that moment that I know that I need to concentrate on one thing; getting out of here.
Chapter Fifteen
~After~
I dream of Damien.
Not the sick, twisted, and dead Damien I saw in the forest a few days ago.
I dream of my Damien.
We're wading in a creek a few miles behind his house. We're both in our underwear and neither one of us seems to care. There's water splashing. Roaring laughter. Fingers caressing skin. And enough kissing to make my knees buckle.
Damien walks ahead of me as we leave the creek, but I remain a few steps behind. He holds his hand out to me, a needy look in his sapphire eyes. “Come on, Addy,” he says.
I remain where I'm standing, looking over my shoulder. There's a man lingering behind me. At least a half a mile away. I can see his form. Broad shoulders. Over six feet in height. But I can't make out anything else. I keep glancing between him and Damien. I feel drawn to both, even though the man behind me is a stranger.
Damien is starting to get impatient. I can tell because when I look at him, his eyes widen then narrow and he's folded his arms across his chest. “What are you doing?”
I frown. “What do you mean what am I doing?”
He points over my shoulder toward the guy behind me. “I know.” The word freeze when they leave his lips and hang in the air like warm wafts of breath on a cold winter day.
“Know what?”
“Don't play coy, Addy. You're not very good at it.”
I take a step closer and snap, “And what is it that you think you know, Damien Allen?”
Hate smolders in his blue eyes. “I know you know that man. I know that you're attracted to him. That you might feel something for him.”
I shake my head and cross my arms, spitting out. “Jealousy isn't very becoming on you, Damien.”
He lets out an insane cackle and storms toward me, eyes cast downward into mine. “I'm not jealous, I'm furious,” he seethes. “To think that I gave you everything,” he tsks and shakes his head, “I gave you my heart. I gave you my soul. I gave you my life. And this is how you repay me? This is how you show you're gratitude? By having eyes for another man when you promised me forever!”
At that moment, I snap. And that's something I never thought I'd do. Dead or alive, I never thought I'd ever lose my temper and snap at Damien. “You'll never let me forget it, will you?” I scream. Tears sting my eyes and I dig my fists into them, my balled-up hands shaking. There's a wild look in my eyes that won't go away. There's a ghost in front of me that refuses to fade. And there's an old part of me that just can't let him go. “Don't you think that that day plays in the back of my mind every God damned day? Don't you think that I would have rather died in your place?” I throw my hands up and shove him. “I would have, Damien! I would have! I would have rather died a thousand painful, torturous deaths than watch you die one! I would have given up anything to go back to that day and relive it!” Damien takes a step back as I run shaky fingers through my hair. I lower my voice and cry, “When you died, I thought I lost everything. I was empty. Numb inside. And the pain...the pain of feeling my heart break over and over again was never ending. I'm sorry about what happened. I think you know that. But what I think you know more than anything is you haunting me and reminding me of what you sacrificed is the most mean-spirited thing you've ever done.” More tears well in my eyes, and I suck them back trying to be strong. “The Damien, I knew wouldn't want this for me. He wouldn't want me to live the rest of my life, loving his ghost. My Damien was too proud, good, and selfless for that.”
The one thing that I forgot was that in this dream, this is not my Damien. He's a sinister, sick, and twisted version of the boy I loved. And I know this when he lunges at me, wraps both of his hands around my neck, cuts off the air in my throat, and whispers in a deadly voice, “Love me.”