Page 46 of Lay Me Down
Ser offered to stay in the room with me, but I just can’t imagine someone else in our bed. I’m sure I’ll eventually crawl into the sheets with her down the hall, but I’ll hold out as long as I can. I have Daisy with me, and she does bring me some kind of comfort. She’s been lying on the floor by the bathroom door, waiting for me to get out, and now she’s sitting by my feet again.
Cries that aren’t mine make their way through the bedroom door, and my stomach flips. It mists its way into the room like a paranormal wail, continuously feeding into the idea of my haunted thoughts. I throw Damien’s T-shirt on and step out into the hall with Daisy following beside me. It feels eerily distorted out here, like a spirit is watching me from the walls. I shake the feeling as I step up to the railing, and witness something I didn’t expect in the open area below.
John and Leanne are standing in our empty living room, and now I know exactly where those cries are coming from. John looks like a completely different man than the one I know. His face is soft, and he holds Leanne in his arms like she’s made of glass. She stares up at him like she’s clinging to God, and it’s so tender that it makes my heart throb weakly.
“Are you sure it’s them? I mean, how do you know for sure? They said it could be someone else…” Leanne sobs, and John cups her face in his hands. He leans down so she doesn’t have to look up too far to meet his eyes.
“It’s them, sweetheart. Iknowit. That’s the only explanation for us not finding him yet.” He caresses her cheeks as she draws in a sharp breath, and she lets out a shrill cry. John forces her chin up just a little more, and she fights for breath. “I need you to be my strong girl, Leanne. Do you understand? I’m going to findhim. I promise you.” She starts to shake her head erratically, like she’s trying to run away from her own thoughts.
I had almost forgotten that she was taken by them years ago. She was gone for two months. Even when I first met her and she warned me of the risks to a life like ours, the memories haunted her. I could tell by the look in her eyes, and now she’s having to relive it all. John seems absolutely certain thattheyhave him—Saconne and DeLuca. If she’sthisterrified, I can only imagine what they’re doing to him.
Suddenly, Damien’s screams flood my head, and the demons show me a different type of haunt. My body heats at the thought of him in pain. I can almost feel it. An ache infects my limbs, my chest twists in agony, and my wrists bleed with my own memories. If they’re as cruel as Hugo was, then he’s suffering. The anguish in my heart is unlike anything else I’ve ever felt, and the worst part is the unknown. I don’t know what’s happening to him, but the images my mind has conjured up are enough to bring me to my knees, if I were to let them. I have to find him before it’s too late. His mind is already so tortured, and the thought of that getting any worse just sends shocks through my body.
“You don’t understand, John! He can’t be with them! You don’t know what it was like! You don’t understand! You don’t know! You don’t know—” She starts to breathe heavily, and tears sting my eyes. Just when I step towards the stairs, feeling the urge to help her, he pulls her into his chest. Her hands grip his shirt like the ground will fall out beneath her, and I can feel my skin ripple with sorrow.
John lifts her small form just enough to place her feet on top of his, and he starts to sway with her. The sight takes my breath. I’ve never seen him so gentle or so warm. His hand caresses the back of her head, much like Damien does for me, and I canfaintly hear him speak. No, not speak.Sing. I can barely hear the words, but he whispers this melody softly in her ear.
It’s almost instantly that her sobs suppress to small whimpers, probably just so she could hear him better. Her eyes are closed, but they’re not shut as tightly anymore, and even though her face is buried in his chest, her mouth is hanging open, like it’s easier for her to breathe. John’s head rests against hers, and the look in his eyes is what really gets me.
He’s in so much pain.
While he doesn’t have the polymorphism trait like Leanne and Damien, it’s almost like he does. Despair, anger, heartbreak, and so many other emotions swirl in his brown eyes. Each one of them has left a scar, and his cold demeanor makes all the more sense. It’s for her. She has to feel so intensely, and he just absorbs it so she doesn’t have to anymore. He holds it there for whenever she needs it, and I’ve never witnessed something so selfless in my life.
I’m sure he wants to scream and cry like the rest of us have. If he’s anything like Damien, which I know he is, I’m sure there’s a building somewhere that has already collapsed under his rage. He’s already been on so many ‘errands’ that I can only imagine the aftermath. I can see the raised veins under his skin, and there seems to be a permanent, angry flush to his skin. The demon the Hartley men know so well is waiting just below the surface to be released, but of course, he’s keeping it at bay for her—for the woman he loves more than his own life.
A tear finally falls from my eyes, and that’s when he catches sight of me. He doesn’t stop or look away. He wouldn’t dare. The sureness in his expression silently tells me it’s okay. That I needed to see it. Damien does exactly the same thing for me, and it’s like he has to tell me that he understands my pain—that he understands my need for Damien’s presence.
I saw the pain in his eyes when he arrived, and even when he doesn’t think I see it, I can see the void in his stare. Another piece of his heart is gone, and he’s not going to stop until he brings Damien home. None of us will. That devotion to his son is something we all share. His gaze bores into mine as we come to a silent understanding, and I give him a silent nod. As John finally looks away from me and back down at Leanne, I take that as my cue to leave.
As I turn back to our bedroom, I feel like a different person. The woman that my husband has always seen inside me comes to the front lines and prepares for battle. His monster whispers in my ear, coaxing her out. The world is completely different in Damien’s eyes, and that’s how I’ll see it from this day forward. Until he’s back in our bed, and in my arms, I’ll be his queen of darkness—just as he’s always seen me. I’ll never be the same again, but I knew that the moment he disappeared. Damien’s little wolf is coming out to play, and if I’ve learned anything from watching my husband, it’s how to cause some damage.
When I was taken, he didn’t care about the mess he made. He tore this city apart, and he didn’t feel an ounce of remorse. He had no regard for the people he killed, or the things he had to do just to hold me again.
I won’t either.
Chapter 19
Damien
The Next Day
I thrash as hard as these restraints will let me. The metal piece holding the back of my neck bites at every twitch, and the rag being held against my mouth doesn’t allow me to lift my head. It burns. I can’t fucking breathe. Water continues to pour over my mouth and nose, causing the fire to explode in every nerve. I’ve lost count, but I believe this is the fifth bucket they’ve poured, and I’m starting to daze.
Everything feels so heavy, like gravity was adjustable and someone turned the knob all the way up. It’s intense to the point where everything hurts, yet the inside of my head didn’t get the memo. I’m moving. Slowly, in circles, I’m spinning. Swimming. Screams echo in my head over and over again, and past them all isthatbooming laughter.
The rag is finally removed from my mouth, and I fly forward, coughing and sputtering. My lungs expand and stretch painfully with every pull. I’m gasping for breath, and the room moves with me. My head is pounding and the rush of blood over my ears doesn’t help with the sway of the room. I’m fading.
A firm hand lands on my chest to force me back, and I scream out at the pain. Cinque’s hand pushes on my new tattoo, and it’s almost as if I can feel it pop on contact. Over the past…I’m not even sure how many days, I haven’t been able to get a very good look at it, but it burns and pulls like it’s infected. I’m almost positive I’ve had a fever, but that could be because of the torture and whatever they’ve been sticking in my neck.
I know it’s some kind of drug. I’m assuming it’s to keep me weak, because after every stick, I get lethargic and end up passing out. Cinque holds my head up and to the side, only for DeLuca to deliver another pinch that I knew was coming. The now-familiar burn snakes its way through my veins, and the room spins a little faster. Everything goes black as footsteps recede, but a voice keeps me semi-conscious.
“Damien?” Ashia pulls me further from the void. I try to lift my head, but it suddenly weighs a ton. Every limb is twitching in pain, and the muscles in my abdomen cramp, like if I were to stretch out, they’d tear to shreds. “Baby, where are you?” Her voice echoes just a little, and it sounds like it’s getting closer. She’s shaking, and it shows in her words. I open my mouth, desperate to speak to her, but nothing comes out. “Damien, please come home.” She cries right next to my ear, and I fling my head up forcefully.
I groan out in pain and let my head fall to the side. My eyes threaten to close again, and I almost let them. I'll hear her then. She's in every dream, calling to me in the only way she can. With every shock, I saw her in the flashes. A part of me wishes I would slip into the afterlife, but only long enough to see her. Theunwavering need to lay my own eyes on her is rapidly growing, and if I don't see her soon, I’ll slip into limbo anyway.
The room continues to spin as I attempt to lift my head once again. It sways violently, and nausea overtakes my senses. I heard them walk away. There shouldn't be anyone else in this room, but I see someone in front of me. From the brief glance between swirling stones, this person is tall and burly, like lifting heavy weights is a favorite pastime. My chest tightens, and I attempt to slip back into the void, but then this person speaks—keeping me conscious.
“Damn, D. You look like shit.”
