Disclaimer: I don't own TVD or anything associated with it (except my own work, of course).

Hey everyone! So, I hope you enjoyed the last chapter. Thank you all so much for the reviews! I appreciate every single one of them! This chapter is pretty long and you can thank nallemorin for the drama because I consulted her and she decided she wanted you all to suffer. Muhahaha! Not really, but she did help me decide which way to go with this. I hope you enjoy it!

Elena's POV

Jackson's eyes widen in realization and his face transforms, veins snaking beneath his now-red eyes.

"I knew something was off about you." I say, backing up, but my legs hit the ice machine.

Jackson smiles, stepping forward like a predator stalking his prey.

"Very observant of you. I should have known you were a vampire from how suspicious you seemed at the party. Most humans aren't intuitive enough to detect a threat. But I saw your boyfriend, Damon, looking at you like a meal during the speech and thought you may have been a compelled date. My mistake."

"So, you thought I was someone else's compelled girlfriend and you decided to take me from him? Why?"

"Because I can." He says, menace flashing briefly on his face. "And because you're beautiful; I like to collect beautiful things."

"Collect?"

That's a strange word to use.

His grin widens.

"Yes. Collect. By any means necessary. And maybe I get slight satisfaction in taking something from another vampire, especially one that seems to be as arrogant as he does."

The same crawling sensation I got at the party creeps across my skin. This guy is obviously crazy… and crazy and vampires don't usually go well together. I need to get out of here, but he's blocking my way to the room. I have no idea how old he is, but it's a fair bet to say he's older than me, which means if he gets his hands on me, I'm not likely to escape.

"Well, I'm not human," I say, hoping that his intent has changed now that he knows I'm a vampire. "I should get back. Damon will be waiting on me."

I take a step forward, but he counters me, blocking my path again.

"No, you're not human, but you are still beautiful. And you still belong to someone else."

Jackson's eyes darken and my stomach drops.

No. No.

My mind is going into overdrive trying to figure out how to get away; I'm literally backed into a corner. I swing the container of ice as hard as I can, clipping his jaw, but as I try to race past, opening my mouth to scream Damon's name, I feel his fingers clamp around my throat and then I'm shoved into the ice machine with enough force that the metal starts to buckle. I was right. He's much stronger than me.

"Damon will notice I'm missing. He'll find me." I manage to croak out.

His grin widens, morphing into a sneer.

"I'm counting on it."

Damon's POV

Elena chose me.

I smile at the empty room, still in shock over everything that has happened over the last few days. This trip just completely morphed into so much more than what I planned for. After everything, I finally got the girl. And not just any girl, but Elena, the girl I've dreamed of being with for way too long. Stefan is going to be pissed when he sees the ring and Klaus is, I'm sure, going to be a dick and try to force her to become human, again, but we'll figure that out along the way.

I turn on the shower, letting the water warm up against my fingers. Once Elena gets back, I figure we can enjoy a nice, long shower before heading out for dinner. Tomorrow, we can lounge around for another day and then it's off to our next destination.

Earlier tonight Elena said something that makes me even more excited about the next stop. She's right… there's still a lot she doesn't know about me. There are things that no one knows, not even Stefan. But who better to share those with than the person you plan on spending forever with?

I don't—

I hear a bang outside and still.

"Elena?" I say, walking out into the main area.

The room is empty.

How long has she been gone? She should have been back by now.

A strange feeling settles into my chest and I pull on a robe, walking out into the hallway and following the hum of the ice machine.

"Elena?"

I turn the corner and my heart sinks. The ice machine has a large dent, pieces of ice are scattered across the carpet, and the ice bucket Elena had been carrying earlier is discarded on the floor.

A slew of curse words run through my head.

I know exactly who's responsible for this: that creepy guy from the party. What was his name again? Jackson? Well, whoever he is, he's about to have a very bad night.

Elena's POV

What is this place?

The room is dark, but as my eyes begin to adjust, the foreign shapes that litter the room come into focus. There are several doors, but none that look like they lead to the outside. A desk with a leather chair sits to my left and several bookshelves line the room, all completely filled, some with what look like nothing but encyclopedias. There's a couch and some other random pieces of furniture, but the white walls are bare other than a couple decorative photos. The place looks like a home but is filled with sharp lines that look harsh rather than sleek and there's a crisp organization that makes it seem fake, unlived in, unnatural.

I look down and realize with a sickening feeling my hands are bound to the chair and my clothes have been changed; my stomach turns at the thought of a stranger's hands on me, undressing me while I was unconscious. Replacing the shorts and shirt of Damon's I wore earlier is a short black dress that's clearly expensive, but more casual than the dress I wore earlier.

Damon.

My eyes sting with tears at the thought of him, my chest aching in fear and longing and pushing all other thoughts aside. I can almost see his expression when he realized that I was gone, the way his eyes would widen and his jaw would clench.

For the first time since I woke up, I feel a glimmer of hope. Damon is smart, conniving. He thinks like a predator because he is one. And when he gets here, Jackson is in for a rude awakening. I've scarcely seen anything more terrifying than Damon when he's angry, not only because of his strength, but his resourcefulness and the fact that he doesn't hesitate the way others might. He was even able to take down Kol, an Original, a couple of times.

The hardest part for him will be finding me, especially since he no longer has Bonnie's magic to help with a locator spell. I don't even know where I am, if I'm still in the hotel, which I doubt, or if he's taken me somewhere within the city. I don't think he could have gotten to anywhere too remote before I woke up from having my neck broken. Maybe 30 minutes from the hotel.

I pull against the ropes binding my hands and a searing pain seeps through the skin. Vervain. I should have guessed. I pull again, gritting my teeth against the pain of what feels like acid burning through my skin. Another round of tears threaten to overwhelm me, but I push them back. I'm not going to let this psychopath get the best of me.

The door opens and Jackson walks in holding several bags, a smile spreading across his face when he realizes I'm awake.

"Ah, good. You're up. How do you like your dress? Very chic, don't you think?" He says as if he's having a casual conversation and I'm not strapped to a chair against my will. "I hope you don't mind some used clothes. They're practically new and I haven't had a chance to shop for you, yet."

He starts taking out what look like women's shoes and clothes and placing them into a dresser just inside the door across from me. When I don't answer, he glances at me.

"Oh, come on. Don't be mad, Elena. This can still be a nice evening."

I can't stop the laugh that escapes me.

"Are you delusional?"

He laughs and it's unnerving just how carefree he sounds.

"Well, I've been told that by several psychologists, but I don't think they quite hit the nail on the head. See, I know what reality is. I even understand what social norms are. I just think they are quite limiting, don't you? I mean, what's the point of life if you can't enjoy a little freedom, a little fun?"

"This is fun for you? Is this something you do with defenseless young girls because you can't find friends of your own?"

He stops and turns around and I can see his demeanor has changed. He's no longer light-hearted and respectable looking. Instead, his brown eyes are hard and his mouth pushed into a flat line.

"You should really learn some manners." He says, menace lacing through his words. "Keep in mind this is my home you're in."

Then, as if a switch was flipped, his face changes again and resumes the polite expression from before. He turns back and starts placing clothes in the drawers with care, meticulously folding every piece.

"I told you the truth. My name is Jackson. The Roes are family friends. And I go to the charity ball every year in hopes that I'll find a young woman that catches my eye, one that I'd like to add to my collection. This year, that was you. Really, you should be flattered. It's a compliment."

"It doesn't feel like a compliment."

He chuckles.

"Yes, well, I assume it will take some adjustment for you. You seem to be quite loyal to your boyfriend." He smiles at me in the same unnerving way he did at the party. "I've never taken another vampire, you know. You're the first."

He says it as if I should be thankful.

"What do you do with them? I mean, I don't see any other girls here. So… where is the rest of your… collection?"

I'm not sure I actually want to know the answer.

He closes the last drawer and turns to me.

"Well, I can't have a bunch of women following me around all the time, of course, and switching them too often would be suspicious." He snaps, the nice façade slipping again. "I compel them to fulfill their purpose and once that has been done and I'm bored of them, I dispose of them."

"And what is their purpose?"

"Whatever I want it to be." He sneers. "Enough talk."

He stands up and folds the plastic bags, placing them neatly inside a labeled box on the kitchen counter that I can see through an opening that doubles as a breakfast bar.

"Now, dinner time. I got some blood bags. Once your boyfriend shows up and I get rid of him, I can bring you someone to feed from, but until then, the bags will have to do."

He stands and walks into the kitchen.

"Did you flip your switch? Is that was this is?" I say, starting to pull on the ropes again while his back is turned. Maybe if I can keep him talking, I can get out of here. The ropes bite into my skin, but I keep pulling.

"I don't understand what you mean."

"The switch, the humanity switch."

He stops and turns around to look at me. I stop struggling against the ropes immediately.

"Humanity switch? That's ludicrous. There's no such thing."

"Yes, there is, it's…"

A strange thought creeps into my mind, confirmed by his next words:

"I've been this way since I was a child."

He's not just another vampire without his humanity. You can't lose something you've never had. He can't flip his humanity switch because he's never had a conscience.

He's a genuine psychopath.

I send out a silent prayer.

Damon, please hurry.

Damon's POV

I look into the blue eyes of the clerk and will her to tell me the truth. I'm losing my patience and I didn't have much to lose to begin with. Elena has been missing for just over 10 minutes and I'm getting antsier as each second passes.

"Karen Roe. She had a charity ball here earlier and I need her number. NOW." Or I will tear your throat out before you can blink, I add silently, already knowing that won't be necessary; very few people have ever surprised me by resisting my compulsion, but I'm in a mood.

"Of course."

She rattles off the numbers and I press them into my phone, strolling out the door without a backward glance.

"Hello?"

"Mrs. Roe." I say in my most polite voice, trying to conceal my impatience. Things would be so much easier if I could compel people over the phone. I guess abundant amounts of charm will have to do, instead. "This is Damon Salvatore. From the charity ball."

"Oh, yes. Mr. Salvatore. I hate to be rude, but do you realize the hour?"

I roll my eyes.

"Yes, I'm very sorry, but there's an issue with the check I wrote you and I was wondering if I could stop by and give you a new one."

"Right now? Can't you just do it tomorrow?"

"I'm afraid not. My girlfriend and I have decided to head out for our next destination tonight and we'll be outside the state by morning."

She sighs and I'm sure she's weighing how tired she is against losing such a large donation.

"Of course. Sure, that's… fine. My address is 3223 Hawthorne Avenue."

"I'll see you soon."

I walk up to the large three story, brick house and knock on the bright red door. Karen may do a lot for charity, but, judging from the massive house, neatly trimmed lawn, and $60,000 SUV in the driveway, she's obviously not doing too bad herself.

"Mr. Salvatore." She says, opening the door. "Thank you for stopping by. It would have been just devastating to lose such a generous donation."

"Karen." I smile warmly, waiting until she reaches outside the barrier around her house before I grab her wrist. "Tell me about your friend Jackson. What does he drive? Where does he live?"

Her expression changes to one of complete passiveness.

"Jackson lives about 10 minutes away. On Benton Avenue, but I don't know the house number. He drives a brand new red Cadillac sedan—"

"Go to bed. You won't remember any of this. I never called and I was never here. The check in your possession will work perfectly."

I turn on my heel, punching the name of the road into the GPS on my phone.

12 minutes out. Perfect.

Elena's POV

Jackson walks back from the kitchen with a blood bag in hand. I think he must have let it sit in hot water because when he puts it to my lips, the blood is warm. I take a couple sips to make sure it isn't laced with vervain and then a couple bigger gulps to get rid of the shakiness that's come with not feeding in a while. I don't necessarily want to accept anything that he's giving me, but I can't go on much longer feeling this hungry, not if I want to get out of here.

Jackson flashes an arrogant smile and hatred rises in my chest. Without really thinking, I pull in a mouthful of blood and spit it at him, the red color covering the right half of his face and soaking into the white fabric of his shirt before falling onto the pristine carpet below. Considering the extreme cleanliness of his house, I figured that might wipe away his smug grin. I was right. Anger flashes across his face and before I can blink, he backhands me, the force of it jarring me more than I expected. My teeth smash together and stars pop up, obscuring my vision.

He pulls a handkerchief from his pocket and wipes away the blood from his face.

"That… was unwise."

He walks across the room and grabs something from the shelf.

"I was going to be kind and give you one last chance to see your boyfriend before I killed him, but now I don't think you deserve it."

He kneels down in front of me, anger completely transforming his features, and then I feel a sting in my neck, a burning spreading across the skin, and the room starts to go blurry. I feel tears in my eyes leak over as everything goes black.

When I open my eyes, the room is even darker than before, if that's even possible, and it takes me a second to realize that there's someone right in front of me. I jump back, but as the face comes into view I feel like my heart might burst.

"Damon."

All the tears I've been mostly successful in hiding start falling down my face at the sight of him. I try to keep my voice at a whisper, but it's hard to contain the excitement and fear still coursing through me.

"Damon, he's crazy. He said he wants to collect me." I glance around the room for Jackson, but I don't see him. Just like at the party, his sudden absence only makes me more nervous. "I don't know where he went, but he said he wanted to kill you and—"

He puts his fingers to my lips.

"It's okay. Shh. I'll get you untied."

"Vervain." I say as he reaches to undo the knot. "Vervain on the ropes."

He pulls a knife from his pocket and starts to cut just as I see a shadow move behind him.

"Damon—!" I start, but it's too late.

Jackson, his smile wide and maniacal, rushes him, throwing him into a wall before brandishing a stake from seemingly nowhere and shoving it into Damon's chest.

"NO!" I scream and I feel like the wind has been knocked out of me.

My head swims, but I see Damon's eyes widen for a split second, his mouth falling open, and then a sickly grey starts to creep up his neck.

Jackson releases him and he falls to the floor heavily. With sudden strength, I pull my hands free and race to his side, ignoring Jackson for the moment.

"No, no, no. Damon, please. Please." I plead, forcing myself to breathe between sobs. "Please. Please."

Everything is going painfully slow and too fast all at once. I'm feel like I'm going to pass out. Tears spill over onto Damon's face as I beg him to come back, shaking his shoulders, grasping at his leather jacket. I lay my cheek against his and run my hands through his hair, crying his name over and over until my voice his hoarse, but he can't hear me.

His blue eyes are blank. He's cold and heavy in my arms.

Damon, my Damon… is gone.

Damon's POV

I'm able to find the house pretty easily. Jackson's car isn't exactly inconspicuous and I assume that since it's here, so is he… and so is Elena.

The road to his place was mostly empty, which isn't too odd considering the time of night, but it still felt off for some reason. The seclusion might actually be a good thing, though. Of the few houses along the way, several were for sale and the rest are too far away for anyone to hear something and go running to the cops. Not that they can kill me, but they can certainly be inconvenient. I'd say the distance from prying eyes and listening ears wasn't a happy accident. From how creeped out Elena was, I'm guessing he's been a freak for a lot longer than just tonight. He's probably been nabbing girls for years. I'm also guessing he's a vampire, otherwise he wouldn't have been able to take her on.

I should have listened to her when she said something was off about him… I should have taken it more seriously. I'll have time to properly kick myself for that later, once this guy's name is added to my long list of dead adversaries.

I creep up to the back door, trying to listen for movement, when I hear a heart wrenching scream.

Elena.

Without a second thought, I break the doorknob off and flash inside, following the sounds of her cries.

"It's not real. It's not real. It can't be real." She's saying from what I'm guessing is the living room.

I turn the corner and let my eyes scan the room. In the main area, Elena is bound to a chair, her face wet from tears, hair clinging to her cheeks, and she's shaking so hard from crying that the whole chair is shaking with her.

"Damon." She sobs and for a second I think she's seen me, but then I realize her eyes are closed.

"Elena." I say, touching her face.

She doesn't reply.

"She can't respond. She's not really awake."

I turn around and lounging against the wall is a man that looks about 25, though I know how little that has to do with actual age. He has brown hair and eyes and is wearing a smirk that makes me want to deck him. He just looks like a dick.

"Messing with her mind? That's a little low, don't you think?"

"Not really. She ruined a very expensive shirt and stained my carpet."

I look back at Elena. Her cheeks are red and still wet with tears, but she seems to have calmed into a peaceful sleep. In front of where she's sitting is a light pink mark that looks like it's been scrubbed recently.

Is this guy for real? He really is a nutcase.

"Oh, well, that makes sense." I say sarcastically. "So, you're Jackson. We've not met, but it's okay. I understand. You've been busy stalking my girlfriend."

He laughs and pushes away from the wall, starting to circle me a like a vulture, his lips turned up in a foolish smirk and his dark eyes focused on my every movement.

"You're one to talk, Damon." He says, like we've been best buddies forever. "I got a good look at Elena's mind earlier. Stealing the love of your brother's life? That's low. Just an FYI: She would have been better off with him."

I grit my teeth and drop my voice.

"If you got a good look at her mind, you should know I feel about people threatening the small list of people I care about. Elena is at the top of that list. You should have left town while you had the chance."

His grin falters and turns into a barely concealed sneer.

"I thought you might be arrogant from watching you at the ball and I was right." He takes a step toward me. "Walking into my home unarmed? Not a very bright move."

I feel blood rushing toward my eyes and the sharp point of my fangs extending.

"I don't need a weapon."

He recognizes my challenge and rushes me, his own eyes darkening. He's fast, but I'm faster. I flip him over, kicking him in the stomach, and the stake he was holding slides across the floor.

"Really? You're that predictable?"

He stands up, eyeing the stake on the other side of the room and I flash to block his way.

"Ah, ah, ah. Up here." I taunt.

His eyes flicker to mine and he grins, taking a step forward and attempting to hit me. The first swing misses, but the second makes contact. I taste the tang of my own blood coming from a busted lip, but before he can get in another punch, I grab his arm and twist, feeling the bone buckle beneath my hands with a satisfying crunch.

"Let me explain something to you." I say, applying pressure to his broken arm and pushing him away.

He grits his teeth and swings again with his weaker arm, his cool composure starting to wear thin, and I dodge him.

"I have arrogance because I've earned it." I spit at him, lowering my voice and letting my anger coat every word. "You made a mistake touching Elena. Feel lucky that I don't have time to torture you."

Dodging another swing, I see an opening and I shove my hand into his chest, gripping onto his still-beating heart and pushing him into the wall. I stare into his eyes as they widen in disbelief.

"Wait—" He starts, but I'm over this poor attempt at a fight.

Instead of ripping his heart out immediately, though, I squeeze with all my strength until feel warm blood running down my fingers into his chest cavity. He screams, a gasping, guttural sound, but it's cut off abruptly when I pull the mush that used to be a heart from his chest and he falls to the ground.

I drop the squished organ on his desiccating body and sigh.

Well, there that is.

I wipe my bloody hands on his carpet, adding insult to injury, and then turn to Elena.

Elena's POV

I feel warm fingers on my cheek, brushing away the tears that continue to fall from my closed eyes, but I don't want to look up. I don't want to relive this again. I can't.

"Elena."

But, despite the sobs I can feel building, trying to escape from somewhere deep inside me, despite the fear pulsing through me, I can't keep from opening them. I need to see the glacial blue of his eyes surrounded by thick black lashes, full of life and light. I need to see the pink of his cheeks, the soft curve of his lips that are now turned down in a frown of worry. No matter how short-lived my time with him will be, I have to erase the image of his gray, desiccated face from my mind.

How many times have I watched him die? How many ways?

You would think I'd be used to it by now, that I would know that it's just a vision that Jackson is using to torture me. But it feels real every single time. I have felt the crushing, unbearable pain of his loss what feels like a hundred times and every time it feels just like the first. Because I know that Damon is really coming. Somewhere out there, he's searching for me and when he gets here, that nightmare could become a reality, an anguish I will have to live with forever.

The worst part is I won't know if it's real or not. What if the first time was real and Jackson has just been torturing me anyway? What if I already witnessed Damon's real death?

Fresh sobs tear through me.

"Damon. Please leave. I can—I can't watch you die again."

"Elena." He says, again, cupping my face in his hands. "I'm real."

I start shaking my head.

"You always say that."

He starts to pull at the ropes and I hear the searing of his skin from the vervain. He curses, gripping the rope and pulling it loose, and then I'm in his arms, leaning into him and he holds in on the floor.

God, it feels so good to feel his arms around me again.

I breathe in, appreciating the smell of expensive leather mixed with his cologne, and lean my head against his chest, the sound of his beating heart loud in my ears.

And then I remember where I am and what's coming.

"Elena. I'm here." He says as tears start falling onto his jacket again. He pulls me back, looking into my eyes with determination. "I know what he was doing to you, but it's over now. He's dead."

I feel my heart skip a beat and look over Damon's shoulder at a dark form on the floor. I can see dark stains on the carpet and what looks like a body, but it's badly misshapen. I lean forward to get a better look and realize that Jackson is, in fact, dead. His head has turned towards us, but his brown eyes are blank and lifeless, fixed in the slate gray of his face. One of his arms is bent at an odd angle and his shirt is marred by a dark, jagged hole close to the middle of his chest. With a jolt, I realize that the lump on his abdomen is what's left of his heart.

"He's dead?" I hear myself say, and for a moment I begin to hope.

Of all the visions I've been given tonight, of all the nightmares I've lived, in none of them did Jackson die. He was always the last one standing. Of course he wouldn't believe he could be bested. That was his fatal flaw.

I look back at Damon, emotion rushing through me, and I launch myself at him, pressing my lips to his. I don't even know how much time has passed from the last time that I felt the softness of his lips against my own, but it feels like an eternity.

He pulls back, tucking my hair behind my ear.

"Let's get out of here."

I nod, standing, my legs shaking beneath me, but Damon scoops me up bridal style. It's not until I wrap my hands around his neck, interlacing my fingers, that I realize two very important pieces of jewelry are missing.

"Damon, he took my rings!"

"What?"

"My rings. My daylight ring and the… promise ring." I say, changing my words at the last second. I almost said engagement ring.

I see his jaw clench in irritation.

"Even in death, he's still a dick." He looks around, sitting me down on the couch. "Stay here. I'll find them."

My stomach drops. As ridiculous as it sounds, I'm terrified for him to leave my sight. Part of me is still afraid that I'm stuck in a nightmare and Damon's death is just around the corner.

"Elena, I'll be fine." He says, correctly interpreting my alarmed expression. "He's very, very dead."

I nod, but stand anyway, deciding to just go with him. My head spins from exhaustion and the vervain that's still weighing me down, but I force myself to stay steady on my feet. Damon just gives me an exasperated look and laces his fingers through mine.

After searching Jackson's pockets, we start looking through the room he'd put all the clothes of "mine". I wonder how many girls have used those, how many girls he's taken.

The answer to that question comes too soon. Just as Damon says, "I found them!", I break the lock on the closet door and immediately wish I hadn't.

The walk-in closet has been transformed into a custom room and along the walls are hundreds upon hundreds of what, at first glance, look like thick ribbons… then I realize they aren't. They are locks of hair in all colors and textures bound with different color ties with a white ribbon on each end.

Jackson may have only taken one girl from each charity ball, but he'd clearly been busy in other places throughout the years.

I take a step into the room, running my finger along one of the pieces of fabric clinging to a lock of pale golden hair.

Bethany Scott. 02/19/2003. Cincinnati, OH. 19 years old.

I imagine what this girl may have looked like, her fine, blonde hair and light skin, her ocean blue eyes. I feel my stomach turn at the thought of Jackson abusing her, using her however he pleased until he grew bored of her. Of course, he couldn't just let them go home. What was the fun in compelling someone to forget you and sending them on their way?

No. He would have killed them, but not before cutting their hair off so he could come back later and remember every thrill.

In the back of my mind, I feel the glimmer of a memory: an apartment in Chicago with a list of names on a wall, hidden in a secret room. Stefan's list of victims.

"Elena, I found them." Damon says, breaking into my thoughts.

I look back at him as he walks in the door and see the look of shock that crosses his face as he take in the room.

"What the f—"

"Hair. From all the girls he…"

I run my fingers through my own hair absentmindedly when something catches my eye. To Damon's left is a small, cherry dresser with my silver clutch on it. My license is lying out and also on the dresser's surface are a pair of shears, a pen, and another white ribbon that reads in neat handwriting:

Elena Gilbert. 11/03/2010. Richmond, VA. 18 years old.

"We should have done something." I look up at Damon and accept the cup of hot cocoa he hands me. "About those girls, I mean."

He looks at me skeptically and climbs onto the bed to sit opposite me. "Do what? Those girls are long gone."

I flinch at the matter-of-factness in his voice.

"But their families could still be looking for them, still waiting on them to come home one day. They have a right to know so they can grieve and move on with their lives."

"Well, Jackson's body is rotting at the bottom of a very steep cliff. When he doesn't show up for work, I'm sure they'll send someone to check out his place. The police will find it."

I nod and take a sip of my drink, ignoring the burn of my tongue. I feel Damon's eyes assessing me.

"Do you want to leave here? We could pack up and go. Our next stop is ready for us any time. Just say the word."

Part of me does want to go, but I can feel myself getting tired as the hot chocolate warms me from the inside out and Damon looks exhausted, too. Exhausted, but alive. He's really here with me and my nightmare is finally over. My heart swells and I sit my cup down on the nightstand before scooting down under the fluffy comforter.

"Actually, can you just lay with me?"

A strange expression crosses his face (disbelief?), but he nods and slides in beside me. His strong arms wrap around me and I snuggle into his chest, listening to the strong beat of his heart and rhythmic sound of his breathing.

I may have been through hell today, but this… this is Heaven.

Don't hate me! Lol. So, what did you guys think of this chapter? Favorite parts or lines?

I know it had a bit more action and drama than usual, but like someone said in one of the reviews, sometimes you have to have a little drama to appreciate the good times. More of those good times are coming, though, I promise.

Please, please let me know what you thought. I appreciate you guys! Much love!