Page 28 of Don’t Let Him In

Bowing my head, I squeeze my eyes shut and jerk away, unable to endure the frantic tenderness in his touch. I want to crawl into my own skin. Hide. Disappear.

“I’m sorry,” he chokes out, cupping my face and gently coaxing me to part my eyelids. I don’t. I can’t. “Please, please don’t cry. I can’t stand it.”

His unsteady voice grows warped and muddled, every word reverberating through the hollow space inside my head. Bristling, I press my lips into a thin line until they ache, but my restraint gives way to a worse fractured sob, raw and ragged with grief.

I don’t snap out of it until a thunderclap boom sounds from beside us, an explosive crack that rattles the walls and echoes in my ears.

The door.

It’s slammed shut.

Dax is still on the inside, his hands shooting toward the door before he shouts, “What the fuck?!”

Shellshocked, I tear myself off of Manson, my mind scrambling to piece together what just happened.

For a beat, Dax keeps his gaze fixed on the unmoving door. His fingers slowly curl into fists before he stalks the remaining distance, every stride taut with barely contained rage.

“Blair!” His voice booms.

Impatient, he pounds the door with one fist while the other slides to the rigid doorknob, clasps it, and twists.

It’s jammed shut, and ice radiates down my spine.

“Blair,” he calls a little louder, this time banging more insistently and jostling the knob until it chatters against the latch.

“Dax?”

“Open the fucking door,” he grits out, each twist of the knob meeting the same unyielding resistance.

My chest constricts as though the roof itself has caved in above me. Crushing me.

Blair’s voice pitches higher to combat his, sounding confused herself. “I’m not touching anything.”

“Seriously?” he snaps, finally pushing himself off the door with a sharp exhale before evening out his tone, softening the edge in it. “I’m sorry if I’ve upset you, alright?” His hands splay in defense as if she can see them through the barrier. “It was all a misunderstanding. Let’s just put everything behind us and get out of here, okay? You can even come back to my place after.”

The next beat of silence drags.

The noose around my throat tightens. More. Harder.

“I’m not upset,” she says, a tremor in her voice. The knob vibrates, resisting the turn. Dax’s eyes narrow at the rusted metal, harsh lines etched between his brows. “It’s not me, I swear. The door isn’t opening. I don’t know why.”

“Are you trying to get back at me?”

“What? No!”

“I said I was sorry, damn it. What else do you want from me?” he roars, cheeks flushed.

“No, you don’t get it,” she pleads with him, on the verge of tears. “It’s not me. It’s this house. It’s…it’s…”

Dread coils low in my stomach. I don’t dare look at Manson. Instead, I keep my gaze trained on Dax, watching fury burn until his features turn almost incandescent. A thread away from igniting.

“Blair,” he grinds out, speaking around a mouthful of venom. “What…the fuck? I’m asking nicely.”

When she doesn’t answer right away, he loses all civility.

“Cut the shit. Open the door. Now.”

A second later.