10. Chapter 10
Chapter 10
Theo
Avery and I pull apart as I watch her glance over my shoulder, finding Grey leaning against the doorway casually. I turn my head to look as well, noticing that he's smiling at Avery.
His relaxed posture is a sign of huge improvement, and it's obvious that a large part of that stems from the fact that we thought we had lost her. It's amazing how your perception changes when you realize you have something to lose.
I had an inkling this could be the case after seeing Grey in the tunnels underneath. His demeanor to most is questionable—never allowing people to see what's coming next. It's as if he plays the role of a coin, and it's a guessing game as to which side you'll get.
We've all seen both sides—his notorious anger and odd fascination with blood and violence, contrasted by a carefree, happy nature. But downstairs, I saw a third side, one that I think is deeply hidden.
It's a cavernous mystery that I can assume is the reason he's in Lilydale to begin with.
Most people would make the mistake of assuming he would lose his temper if Damon clapped twice with an order. But I think the danger is far greater than that.
He's calculated. Savage.
I saw first-hand that his anger is not based on emotional dysregulation. If I had to guess, he allows himself to feel anger only when it's most convenient to him. And he wields it in a way so that he stays in control.
The anger he feels is more than a human emotion. It's a choice—one that he happily engages in.
He's not much different to me.
People say I have anger management problems too. They can believe whatever they want if it appeases their fragile, tiny minds. I just have little tolerance for ignorance, stupidity, and manipulation. Besides, if people see you as unapproachable, they leave you alone. They fear you, and with that comes a strange sense of respect.
It's how I've stayed mostly under the radar here. A few knuckle sandwiches and amputations here and there, but people quickly learn. If there's one thing patients are good at, it's recognizing their own mortality—except for dickheads like Hallman. I had contemplated chopping off his dick instead of his finger since he barely measured up to any sense of a man, but removing the part of his body that touched Avery seemed like a better idea.
"You're back," Avery breathes out happily.
I notice she doesn't try to cover up her naked body, nor does she appear embarrassed at us being caught by Grey. Whether or not she realizes, this is a huge step for her too.
Before, she'd worry about other people, scared of not being able to please everyone. She'd put her own needs aside to entertain someone else's insecurities. It nearly tore her apart. She's not designed to keep secrets and live in the dark. She's done that her whole life while stuck in survival mode. It was an unhealthy coping mechanism that got worse as time went on. But it's time for her to break free and be herself, reach the potential that she's been held back from by the people in her life that let her down.
The night in the library was the first step to acceptance of this weird dynamic for all of us. And together, it appears Avery and Grey are growing and healing whatever issues they brought into this forsaken asylum. I guess I'm growing too. In a strange twist, it's almost like I'm honoring my sister's memory—allowing peace where she found violence and a brutal end.
"I wanted to be here when you woke up but I needed to attend to something," Grey says, stepping forward. He drops to his knees in front of her, pulling her in for a hug.
She hugs him back and when he leans down to kiss her, I finally see her hesitation slip through. Grey notices too, raising an eyebrow.
"Uh—" Avery stammers, looking over at me, unable to find the words.
"I came in her mouth," I answer for her bluntly. I have no desire to drag out her uncomfortableness.
Grey pauses for a brief second, before closing the gap and kissing her anyway. She lets out a little squeak of surprise before kissing him back.
I leave them to have their moment, fetching my clothes and pulling them on. By the time I've finished dressing, they have broken apart, and Grey is helping her with her own clothes.
When we finish getting dressed, Grey shoves his hands into his pockets, giving us both a warm smile.
"We're going to escort you to breakfast. Damon and I have already made sure it's safe. So far, Arthur hasn't bothered to show his ugly head. The guards are keeping to themselves as well."
"And Vivian?" Avery asks quietly. "Has someone checked on her?"
Grey nods. "We had a few guys stand guard to make sure she wasn't disturbed. I believe she's being seen by Markel this morning."
"I don't trust him," she replies with hurt in her voice.
"We are going to look into what happened."
"How?" she asks wearily.
Grey shifts in place slightly, eyes darting over to me. "You're going to be called in for an appointment with him."
"But—"
He holds up his hand, interjecting. "We're going with you. You're not being let out of our sight, and it will give us the chance to interrogate him."
Avery crosses her arms, shaking her head. "It was his pill that caused me to lose consciousness."
"What do you remember?" Grey asks.
She shrugs slightly. "He told me it was my usual medication. It was in a little bag with my name on it."
"Loose pill?" I question.
"Yeah," she confirms. "But that's how it usually is."
Grey nods, deep in thought. "It could have easily been switched though. Markel leaves the key in the cabinet. Someone could have made the change when he wasn't looking."
"Or he's as fucked up as the rest of the staff," Avery snaps quietly. "I wouldn't be surprised."
"We'll figure it out," I say, stroking her arm. "An interrogation sounds fun."
Avery's face cracks into a smile. "Only you pair would think so."
I share a look with Grey, the two of us smirking at each other. It would be fun.
As much as I hate to admit it, we work well together as a team. I normally prefer to work alone but beggars can't be choosers. When we were searching for Avery downstairs, we ended up being ambushed in the tunnels. Grey and I had agreed to go down further, to avoid being seen for as long as possible. But the guards had anticipated it—finding us in the darkness below.
Most people would freeze when confronted by guns and tasers. But not us. It was a challenge—their weapons, our hands. And I got to witness what type of predator Grey is.
He lured them in at first—acting like he was surrendering. And as they got closer, their confidence grew, and that was the fatal mistake they made. Grey lashed out quickly, slitting the throat of the first, before stabbing the next through the chest. They barely had time to see it coming. I'd almost call it a mercy kill, because I know, like me, he wanted to make them all suffer slowly.
They scrambled, of course—trying to regain control once they realized we wouldn't be going willingly. But by that time, I already had my hands on them, outshining them in strength easily.
We took them down quickly, leaving them in the tunnels. I hope Whittingham found them, seeing the massacre with his own eyes. But he doesn't seem the type to get his hands dirty. If anyone is going to suffer later for this, it will be him.
That's the difference between a coward and a true fighter. A coward will hide behind an army, while a fighter will be front and center.
In a way, that's why I respect Damon now too. He's a raging bastard, but I have to give credit where it's due. I would have pegged him as the type to hide behind his minions, but he was there—and he was the one who rescued Avery.
It will be interesting to see how today plays out. Whether the Lilydale staff like it or not, they will have to issue some type of statement and make an announcement. Avery going missing was one thing, but the other girl… she was declared dead. And now their plans have come back to bite them in the ass. While it's definitely a problem, I have no doubt that the rich fucks have a contingency plan—money can buy almost anything.
"Come on, let's get you some breakfast," Grey says, reaching for Avery's hand. "You must be starving."
"I doubt there will be anything overly filling," she complains, looking back to make sure I'm following them. "Stale toast and rotten fruit doesn't sound very appealing."
I can tell she wants me to grab her hand too, but right now, I think she needs time with Grey. She needs to reconnect and lean on him as much as she does with me. And truthfully, he needs it too. He needs his moment with her since he missed seeing her this morning because he was trying to keep her safe. As much as I want to pull her into my arms and super glue her body to mine, a dick waving contest isn't going to help anyone. Besides, jealousy doesn't exist for me. Only the unwavering desire to make Avery happy.
And he does.
But so do I.
I hope that over time Grey comes to realize that. It's not about having a maximum amount of love to allocate—love is endless.
My sister once described it perfectly to me. Meatballs can be your favorite meal, and then you eat lasagne one day. Almost the same ingredients, right? Yet… they taste vastly different. But you can still love meatballs as much as you love lasagne. It doesn't change how much you love the other meal, just the fact that you can enjoy both. Life would be boring with no variety, especially when each meal can bring you a connection and fulfil your needs .
So, sometimes we want meatballs, and other times we need lasagne. It doesn't take away from the other delicious food at all.
As we trudge down the corridor, we're joined by other patients escorted by guards. The guards don't bother to look at us, but the patients watch on with perplexity—blissful ignorance.
I hope they sleep well at night believing the lie that this place feeds us. They think they have a future, that they are going to be saved by the rich.
Haven't they learned the most obvious fact by now? The rich get richer and only look out for themselves. The only way to secure your future is to fight for it, but these bastards have thrown it away. The best we can do is ignore them in the hope they get sick of us. Eventually, they will realize they are wasting their money, forcing us out on the street to make room for another victim to try to manipulate.
I knew it from the second I arrived here. It was obvious—their overly confident behavior and well-crafted spiel. It's why I refused to cooperate with them from day one. I don't need saving and I don't need lectures. I'm just doing my time until whatever happens, happens. Maybe they'll let me go, or maybe they will torture me to see if I'm breakable now that I know what happens beneath the surface. Either way, the only goal I have now is to ensure Avery is safe and gets away from this hellhole. I'll happily die fighting for it.
We step into the large hall and behind them, I notice Avery's back tense up with nervousness. Grey must sense it as well because he squeezes her hand, not pausing in his movements as he leads us to the table where Damon is already sitting. He looks up as we approach, eyes lingering on Avery's frame for a few seconds before he forcefully rips them away, replacing his gaze with a nonchalant expression. It doesn't matter how well you master your emotions, you'll never be able to hide them completely.
I'm surprised that Grey hasn't picked up on it yet—then again, I think he has. He's just choosing to ignore the obvious. Sometimes ignorance is bliss. He's too focused on being okay with me, that he's not ready to face the reality that someone else may come into the picture. There's no rush though. It's clear that Damon is feigning ignorance too. The guy probably wouldn't recognize his feelings for a good girl even if she was sitting on his face.
"Hey," Avery greets him meekly, sliding into her seat.
His eyebrow twitches ever-so-slightly as he gives her a brief nod of acknowledgment without glancing up from his plate. Yeah… real smooth, asshole.
I could slice the tension with a knife if I wanted. It's a mixture of chemistry, pathetic incomprehension, fear, and the unsettling expectation of today.
"Arthur's going to make an announcement," Damon replies casually, glancing up. "Probably shortly. After breakfast, we'll escort you to Markel's room. Then, it's normal schedule."
"So, that's it?" Avery asks in disbelief. "They are just going to pretend everything is okay?"
Grey lets out a sarcastic laugh. "It's what they do best, babe. They don't want to alarm anyone and cause a riot."
She stills, contemplating his words. Then, her face flushes with a pained expression, followed by anger—like to them whatever she has gone through is nothing more than an inconvenience and insignificant.
I hate to say it, but it's true. I'm not sure what they did to her, but in their eyes, it was meaningless, only important to their own needs.
I'm calm now, but when she opens up about it, I have no doubt I'll want to avenge her. The real question is who will get there first.
On her other side, Grey gives her leg a squeeze, smiling before his eyes dart toward the door. Instantly, his face hardens, eyes glancing over as Whittingham struts into the hall with an entourage of guards by his sides.
When Avery spots him as well, she tenses up, eyes widening briefly with a mixture of apprehension and fear before she squashes it back down. She's trying to be strong, hiding her vulnerability. But it doesn't stop the tiny tremble of her frame as she acts like she isn't bothered. That alone sends a thunderous wave of anger down my spine, but I remain calm, directing those emotions with my gaze at the prick in his expensive suit.
As the guards set up the wooden podium, Whittingham glares around coolly at the room, stopping when he finds our table. His lips purse together with disapproval and dissatisfaction before he steps onto the podium, speaking into a small microphone.
"Good Morning students ," he grunts out, choking on the word like he'll choke on my fist soon. "We have some wonderful news to share."
Avery scoffs under her breath, Damon's lips twitching to fight a smile when he notices. I shake my head myself, turning my attention back to the podium.
"We were wrongly informed of another student's passing. It turns out she was in a critical, emergent condition—thus the misinformation. I'm pleased to say she's made a full recovery and is back with us at Lilydale."
When Avery looks away, I follow her line of vision, spotting Vivian huddled in a corner with the mean looking redhead and a petite girl with blonde hair. Her friends don't seem to catch on to the bullshit, but judging by Vivian's glare at Whittingham, she won't soon forgive or forget.
Avery frowns when Vivian seeks her out too, something passing between them. My fists curl under the table, unmistakable anger ready to pop out and splatter blood all over the walls.
Whittingham flashes his pearly white teeth into a creepy smile, plastering on a relieved look as he pretends to give a shit. "And another student who was also unwell has re-joined us. This is a gentle reminder that if you need help with anything , our professional staff are more than happy to assist. You're not alone in Lilydale."
You could hear a pin drop around the room at his words, patients shifting uncomfortably at his bullshit statement and offer. But it's Avery's change in body language that has my attention, her breathing intensifying like she's fighting back a panic attack or something.
Everyone stays silent until Whittingham and the guards have vanished back through the doors, the chatter slowly returning as people go back to their food.
Avery's eyes are on the metal table, dissociating as her hands grip the edge, turning her knuckles a shade of off-white.
"Did he… did he just insinuate to the entire room that I was suicidal?" she whispers angrily to herself.
Grey shoots a glance at me over her hunched shoulders. "Don't worry about him," he says, rubbing the small of her back. "He's just trying to save face."
"At my expense?" she mumbles in disbelief, finally snapping out of her trance to look at him. "By telling everyone that I'm mentally unwell ?"
My gaze flickers over to Damon, watching as the wheels turn in his mind. He's probably thinking the same as me—this isn't the end. They aren't going to stop. It's the perfect alibi to cover their tracks, as well as protecting their own asses if she were to go missing again.
"This is just what he does," Grey murmurs. "You're safe though. They won't touch you again."
"Gather everyone tonight," Damon interjects a little too roughly. "And you three meet me in the library after Markel's visit."