Alison swallows. “Baby… Please sit down. You’re making a scene. It’s scaring our kids.”
My skin itches with an onslaught of irritation, and Islam my hand against the dining room table. Everyone jumps in their seats. “These arenotour children. Don’t lie to me, Alison. What did you do?”
“Damon…” Gabby’s glossy gaze flicks toward me. “Don’t fight it, Damon. Just sit. Just sit down with us.”
“No…” My pulse quickens as I take a step back, vision blurring as I look around the table. “No… This isn’t—I’m not…”
Alison rises to her feet and slowly strides toward me, her eyes hardened. Her eyes. Her blue eyes. Terror zaps my spine.
“Why are you fighting with us, Damon? Why are you doing this?” She casts me an eerie smile, her tone soft, feminine, and frightening. She places a hand over my chest. Cold. So fucking cold that my heart freezes on impact and I wince. “Just sit down, Damon. You’ve wanted to sit with us for so long. For years. You’re here now, Damon.” The flames of the candles go out as a gust of wind blows through the dining room. “So sit. Sit with us, Damon. Join us. This is what you wanted.”
My heart hammers, rattling against my ribs. My lungs constrict airflow, and I pant, a sheen of sweat coating on my forehead.
“Don’t touch me,” I whisper, staggering backward. “This isn’t?—”
“It’s what you want, Damon,” Alison says, tearing up. “Isn’t this what you’ve always wanted?” She motions to the table. “A family, Damon. We’re your family. We’re here. We’re here for you. We love you, Damon.Ilove you.” She pauses. “You're woven into the very fabric of my being.”
The room spins, and a loud, raw, haunting voice echoes in my ears.
You're woven into the very fabric of my being.
I love you.
You're woven into the very fabric of my being.
I love you.
You're woven into the very fabric of my being.
I love you.
Fight, Damon.
Fight.
Fight for us.
Come on, Damon. Fight. Fight.
Emery.
“I need to leave,” I mutter under my breath, my pulse quickening as I frantically scan the table. “I need…”
Real. This isn’t real. They’re not real. No… No. This isn’t my life. This isn’t my reality.
“Damon!”
I need to leave.
My heart pounds against my pained ribs as I race from the dining room to the front door, my breath coming in desperate gasps. Panic surges through me, a tidal wave of fear pushing me forward. This is wrong. Everything is wrong. I don’t belong here. I can’t be here. Not yet. Not ever. This isn’t right. It’s all so very wrong.
Grunting, I reach the door, yanking at the handle with trembling hands, but it's locked. I rattle the handle violently, tears streaming down my face.
Why won’t it open?!
I need it to open. I need to leave.
Alison appears behind me. “It’s locked, Damon. You locked it. Don’t you remember? You wanted it locked.”
