27. Chapter 27
Chapter 27
Grey
I smile to myself as I glance down at the screen of the cell, my fingers quickly typing out a reply.
Knowing that Avery is missing me already, as much as I'm missing her, makes this a little easier.
I hate being away from her—even for a second. If I had my way, we'd never leave my bed. Hell, even the library.
Fuck me. Especially the library.
I've replayed our last library visit dozens of times in my head. It's bad enough that I'm constantly turned on and eerily aware in her presence but having visual images to get me through our time apart, is torture.
Well, it's torture for whoever I'm dealing with at the time.
My left hand is firmly pressed against the nape of Rian Thatcher while my foot crushes his calf. I finish sending my reply to Avery, shoving the cell into my right pocket.
"I don't know what the fuck you're talking about," he growls again, whining as I tighten my grip.
"We saw you emerging from the office. Don't lie," I say calmly. "Just tell me what you were there for."
For a scrawny thing, he's quite strong. Despite my hand holding his head down, he manages well to push back and engage his neck muscles. Though, when you have the right motivation…
We're in the male restrooms, Rian dangling over the urinal basin. If his strength gives out at any point, he'll land face first in a puddle of piss—and whatever that red stuff is.
Okay—I might be exaggerating a little bit. I know the red stuff is blood. I put it there for dramatic flair.
As usual, I combed through the new kid's file, getting an idea of his wonderful personality traits. It turns out that he has a phobia of bodily fluids—a germaphobe.
Which, in the grand scheme of it, seems a bit strange considering when he was arrested, he was apparently covered in a lot of blood.
Normally, I'd be more understanding of trauma but considering we know that Arthur had words with him when he first arrived, it's clear our warning didn't hit the intended mark.
Andy spotted him returning from Arthur's office again, and with recent events, it's safe to say I have no fucking limitations or boundaries when it comes to protecting my girl.
I'll happily break this fucker into a thousand pieces without a second thought.
"I was called there," Rian snaps back, eyes narrowing into slits at the mess below him. "I didn't have a choice."
"What did he want?" I ask, his voice grating on my final nerve. "I already know you were there. Why is the answer I need."
I'm a bit more forceful this time, shoving my weight and pressure against his neck while my foot squishes his calf painfully. The two actions make him jolt, head dipping lower as he lets out a grunt of pain.
"He asked… he just asked if I was doing alright," he grumbles.
I tsk at him, shaking my head. Arthur doesn't have a caring bone in his body—the idea that he was solely conducting a welfare check on the new kid smells of bullshit. "I can feel your pulse jumping under my fingers. Don't lie to me, Rian."
Moving my foot from his leg, I rest it on his glutes, shoving him. The movement forces him down further, his spine unable to bear the weight in this position.
"I'll make you lick this up if you don't come clean to me," I warn, now holding his head up. The piss is right under his nose, his body dry-heaving as the smell assaults his senses. Part of me hopes he does vomit to add to the mess.
"Okay, okay!" he chokes out, making retching noises. "He asked me to befriend someone."
"There we go…" I say in a soothing, praiseful tone, lifting him up slightly. "Give me the name."
Rian takes large gulping breaths through his mouth, eyes squeezed shut. "That blonde haired girl—Victoria or something."
"Vivian?"
"Yeah, her."
I push him down harshly, kicking him simultaneously as I release him. He slips and fumbles, landing in the urinal face first with a squeal as I step back, just out of the way of the splashback.
"If I can offer any advice," I say, watching as he scrambles to the sink to scrub his face, feet slipping on the tiles. "Don't."
He throws water on his face, rubbing his hands vigorously over his skin. "Why do you even care?" he pants. "She's not your girlfriend. You're with that other girl."
That other girl.
I don't take kindly to the fact that he's referring to Avery as if she's just some average female, not even worthy of a name. I storm toward him, my hand grabbing a fistful of his hair as I pull back, slamming his face forward. The glass mirror shatters against his forehead, the loud bang and echo of fallen glass bouncing around the tiled room.
Rian drops to his knees in a daze, groaning in pain as he clutches his bleeding forehead.
"Her name is Avery," I snap. "You better remember that for next time. As for Capello— Vivian —keep away from her. She doesn't need any pathetic attempts of fake friendship. Do you understand?"
He nods furiously, eyes tightly closed as a trickle of blood drips down his nose.
Satisfied, I turn and leave the bathroom, nearly colliding with a guard in the process.
The guard pauses when he recognizes me, the two of us entering a stare-off. I raise my eyebrows at him, daring him to try something.
When he doesn't make a move toward me, I give him a smile—warm and friendly like two old associates passing each other at the grocery store.
"There was an accident ," I tell him, nodding my head toward the doorway. "Best you assist Mr. Thatcher to Markel's office."
Without waiting for a reply, I stalk past him, heading down the hall.
It's free time, so people are wandering around, chatting among themselves. A few stumble out of my way, giving me a wide berth as I pass, while others freeze in fear.
The next item on my list is a little less fun, but still important.
Heading past the classrooms, I give a little wave to Charmaine as she finishes packing up her room. Her face flashes with disappointment when she sees me, but she returns a small wave nonetheless, obviously annoyed that I was absent from her lesson.
The corridor is quiet and emptier the further I go, heading into official out-of-bounds territory. When I reach the familiar steps, I walk down after scanning my card at the first door, coming face to face with the sole room down here.
A large metal door stands in my way, and for good measure, I try to swipe the card. As expected, the access pad flashes red instead of the usual green—confirming what I already know.
It's the one access code in the entire building that differs from the rest. In hindsight, it makes me question why Arthur doesn't just change all of them to stop us moving around freely. I suspect he can't be fucked, because he'd be changing it daily which is too much paperwork for the staff. It would be a logistical nightmare having to brief everyone on the change every single day. People would forget or get locked out— or in —and he knows we'd just find a way around it anyway.
Arthur isn't the most intelligent man, but he knows we have some of the guards wrapped around our finger, so we'd easily find out and continue as we were. It's a small sacrifice to make—he lets us walk around, and in return, they monitor us and follow our whereabouts.
But it grinds my gears that the one door we can't access is solitary confinement. Despite Byrone and Jillian's hard work, we are still yet to figure out the code. According to their logs, the system automatically updates this particular door on a daily basis, with only specialized cards programmed to unlock it. To this day, we only know of two cards that work—one that Arthur keeps on him and another that Teddy normally holds onto as a backup. It's probably up her cunt like Arthur is.
My hand knocks on the door twice, my ears straining to listen for sounds.
"What?" A muffled voice shouts, annoyed.
"It's me," I answer in a sing-song tune. "Your favorite boyfriend-in-law."
Even through the door, I hear Theo let out an exasperated groan. "Can't let me have a moment's peace, even in here?"
The pipes clang above me as I laugh. "Just checking you are alive."
"Of course I'm alive," he shoots back sarcastically. "What else would I be doing in here?"
He has a fair point, but still, taunting him is becoming my new favorite thing—after being with Avery, of course. Besides, what else can you do with your girlfriend's other boyfriend if not mock and make his existence a nightmare?
"Byrone is looking into the system to see if we can get the door open," I tell him. "But chances are it's a no-go without getting our hand on Arthur's card."
"I'm enjoying the peace and quiet away from you," he says, but there's no malice in his tone.
"I'm touched that you think of me. How's the cell service down here?"
There's a moment of silence, presumably as he digs it out. "One bar—but comes and goes."
I nod to myself. "Avery is worried about you."
At the mention of her name, I hear movement behind the door, his voice a little clearer and closer when he responds. "Keep her safe, Grey."
"I will," I promise him, meaning every fucking word. "I'll pop down each day to update you on things."
"Alright."
My eyebrows furrow as I reach my hand out, placing it against the cold, metal door. I hate that I can't do anything for him. If I was kept away from Avery, I'd end up breaking every bone in my hands trying to claw this door open. But on the flipside, Theo knows he can trust us. We'll keep her safe—and at the very least, we know he's somewhat safe too.
The thing about solitary confinement is they barely come down to check on you. That's part of the torture—only bringing the occasional food, leaving the patients in literal darkness. And given Theo's aggressive nature toward guards and staff members, no one is keen to try to go inside with him. That would be the equivalent of getting in a cage with a hungry, blood-thirsty lion.
"If you get enough signal, send her a message," I say, stepping back from the door. "I don't know what the charge is like on the cells, but hopefully it lasts a few days."
"It's currently at fifty-eight percent," he replies. "I'll move around and find a spot. The pipes probably don't help with the signal. But when you see her, tell Avery I love her."
I knock on the door twice with my knuckles. "Will do, asshole."
"Thanks, fuckwit."