The Dead Side ° horror ✔️

Chapter Thirteen

Author's Note- One more chapter after this. After all, this only part one if you guys want a series....

Chapter Thirteen:

"Oh my God," He lifted me into his arms, not caring that I was getting my massacre all over him. I kept crying as he hugged me close to his chest. He was running a hand through my hair the whole time as he carried me up to the house. Why wasn't he drilling me?

I clutched his shirt with shaking fingers, distressed to the max.

"You're okay," He told me, helping me to the bathroom. Jane had already filled the tub up for me, ready to help me out.

"I'm sorry-" I began in a broken voice. I was, sorry about everything I'd ever done. I was disgusted with the fact that I had no idea what had happened ore how I'd escaped all of that.

"No," Declan shook his head. "Logan, I swear if you apologize for this I will be more upset than I've ever been with you. Did they hurt you?"

"Can we talk when I'm not covered in blood?"

"Yes," He kissed my cheek, wiping the blood off his mouth after. "I'm gonna go-"

"Okay," I shut the door after him, took off my clothes, and spent the next hour getting blood out of my hair.

***

"I woke up in an auditorium and met a whack job who sent me to the back room. They- inject these people will a serum that calms them down. They bought me back- and I blacked out," I was wearing Declan's sweatshirt and shorts with a towel on my head. My skin still itched as though there was still blood on me. We were with the group in the living room.

"I'm so sorry they took you. I should've-" Declan was blaming himself for what happened to me. Even though it wasn't his fault at all.

"I took a walk on my own accord," I took a deep breath. "I'm fine. I was only gone for a few hours-"

"No, you were gone for ten hours," He whispered, pulling me close.

"I was only awake for a couple of them," I closed my eyes to keep from crying. He pulled me tighter into his embrace, even though he was already holding on for dear life.

"I'm so glad you're okay," Tristan stood up. "I think you two need to talk. The porch is a lovely spot." That jerk had the nerve to wink as he left the room.

***

I stood up, slowly, making my way to the door. Declan had a firm grip on my hand, refusing to let go of me ever again. I wondered if he'd let go once he knew the whole story...

The wood let out a creak of protest as we headed for the steps to sit. I sat down first before he lowered himself next to me. We just stared at each other for a minute- making my stomach feel like angry bees were attacking me from the inside out.

"I'm sor-" I began.

"Nope. Don't you dare apologize," He gave me his signature smirk and pressed his lips to my temple. I knew he meant every word he was saying. But there was also everything he wasn't saying aloud that was overwhelming me.

"I don't hate you," I whispered, squeezing his hand. He squeezed it back, looking down at my nails. They were bleeding from how badly I'd been biting them. Fighting my insecurities, I looked out at the dirt and ants crawling over the rocks.

"I know," He said softly. "I'm so sorry."

"For the fight? Not as sorry as I am," I faced him, wrapping my arms around his torso. He held me tightly, clenching his jaw.