30. Chapter 30
Chapter 30
Avery
Oh, shit.
Shit, oh shit. Fuck.
I pace my room when I get back, adrenaline spiking.
I lost control in Whittingham's office—exactly what I said I wouldn't do. My body reacted on its own, spiraling because of his words and threats.
It feels like everything is starting to fall apart again—too soon. I had just started to feel almost normal after what happened downstairs, feeling happy because the connection I have with Theo, Grey, and Damon supersedes everything else. They make me feel safe… seen. But like every other villain in my life, Whittingham took that away from me.
Everyone takes and takes—always using me.
Except them.
The ones that are painted as villains by society.
It makes no sense, but the world rarely does. All I know is that I'd give my life to protect them. They already have my mind, body, and soul—they could take my life and I'd ask 'was it good for you too?'
My feet stop moving as I stand in the middle of my bland room. Inhaling, I reach under my mattress for my cell, flipping it open.
Tears well up in my eyes when I see I have an unread text message from Theo, my fingers quickly hitting the keys to open it.
Theo: It's boring down here without you. Grey better have passed on my message otherwise I'll pin him down and tattoo your name across his forehead.
Laughing, a tear falls down my cheek. I quickly swipe it away, punching out a reply.
Avery: He's safe for now then. I love you too. Are you okay?
After I hit send, I decide I need to text Damon and let him know what happened. There's going to be some fallout from it that we need to prepare for. Or maybe there were warning signs there that I've missed that Damon can pull apart and examine.
I sit on the edge of the bed, leaning on my knees as I gather my thoughts. It's important that I jot it all down, but my mind is still frazzled by the events that I can barely think straight.
The whole thing only happened fifteen minutes ago, but it feels like a fever dream—bits are hazy and disorientated, while other parts are burned into my mind.
Avery: I got dragged to Whittingham's office after showers. Been assigned duty with Elsher for a week. He provoked me and I snapped… accidentally set his desk on fire. He said it's lucky Theo is in solitary confinement otherwise I'd be dragged there.
As I sit and wait for his reply, I listen to my shaky breaths. Hopefully I covered everything. No doubt I'll have to relay all this again tomorrow in person, but at least he knows what happened for now.
It's been dark for quite a while, so I assume Grey should be lurking the hallways soon. The thought brings a little comfort, but also a weight of sadness. He's so close, yet so far away.
I fucking hate this place.
The cell vibrates in my hand with a reply, and I quickly glance at it.
Damon: Fucking asshole is testing my patience. I'm with Grey—I'll fill him in. If that happens again, call me.
I curse myself. The one time I didn't take the cell with me because I was in the shower and this happens. He's right though—I need to keep it on me so I can contact them to listen. That damn cell is coming with me to Elsher's office. I don't trust him one bit.
Avery: I know, I'm sorry. I didn't take it to the showers because I thought I'd be safe.
His reply comes back quickly, and for the first time since my encounter with Whittingham, I forget about it for a second.
Damon: I'm picturing your naked body now.
The small gasp that falls from my mouth startles me. I re-read the simple sentence four more times until I compose myself enough to write back.
Avery: At least you got to feel it today.
Damon: Not enough though.
My mouth curves into a smile at the playful response. If I'm being honest, it wasn't enough for me either. I wasn't lying when I said he'd ruined my life—they all have.
But in the ruins, they are rebuilding me into something stronger. The old Avery is dead—she perished in the fire. And for a while, my ghost haunted these walls, going through the motions of each day, never really understanding how or when things got so bad.
Piece by piece, they put me back together. My flaws are no longer diminishing—they are loved and accepted. The parts of me I hated, I've grown to adapt.
And best of all, I finally forgive myself.
To the rest of the world, I was broken, and I blamed myself for it. I deserved the pain and agony, settled for less than what I needed to truly survive. But I forgive myself for it all. I'm not the person they painted me as. I forgive myself for taking all the abuse and hating myself when I should have pointed my finger at the true culprits.
Avery: It will never be enough. More is always better.
I sit and stare at the cell, waiting for a reply—but nothing comes. Minutes continue to tick by, the light in the room fading as the moon settles overhead casting shadows on the walls and plunging me into darkness. Eventually, I give up and decide to chase sleep, curling up into bed with the cell by my head.
Sleep doesn't come and I keep replaying things in my mind. But I'm somewhat settled and at peace. The shock and adrenaline from earlier have faded. The earlier texts from Theo and Damon have thankfully calmed me, and I know Grey is outside in full guard dog mode. Everything is okay for tonight… We will sort it out tomorrow. All we can do at the moment is take it one day at a time, and we survived today.
That's enough.
There's a quiet rhythmic echo outside the door, so faint that it could be the pipes or guards doing their rounds. When my cell vibrates next to my head, I hastily grab it to make sure everything is okay. It's probably Grey texting since there's not much else to do while on ass duty.
Opening the inbox, I'm surprised to find it's not Grey, but Damon.
Damon: Are you awake?
I laugh to myself, more sarcastically than anything since sleep seems to be missing in action.
Avery: Not by a long shot.
His reply comes quickly—just one word.
Damon: Good.
My brows furrow in confusion as I sit up in bed. Maybe there's an emergency meeting or more updates that can't wait until morning.
Before I can start writing back, the cell buzzes again.
Damon: I want you to do something for me.
Instantly, more messages come through, one after the other.
Damon: In about twenty seconds, I'm going to unlock your door.
Damon: We're going to play a game.
Damon: You run.
Damon: I catch you.
My eyes widen as I read the chain of messages, heart beginning to race. The sound outside grows louder before… silence.
Click.
I jolt my head up as my door creaks open an inch. Slowly, I stand, crossing the room to pull it open.
The corridor is dark except for sections of patchy moonlight. As I step outside the room, I look right toward the direction of the library, squinting my eyes. When I'm positive there's nothing there, I look to my left.
At first, I see nothing there, but a faint glint catches my attention, and I do a double take. There, in the dark at the end of the corridor, a figure stands, hidden in the shadows.
My heart starts beating so rapidly in my chest that I'm almost certain I can hear it echo around me.
I tense up, staring at the figure with uncertainty. They take a step forward into a shard of moonlight and I finally see their face.
Hard red and black, twisted features… Devilish . I recognize it immediately—the Cirque des Morts signature mask and black attire. It's the exact same getup that Damon wore when he rescued me.
The. Exact. Same.
My hand squeezes the cell in my palm, reminding me of his messages as heat rushes through my entire body.
Just one word comes to mind… the one instruction he gave.
Run.
As if reading my mind, he takes a step toward me, forcing my body to spring into action. I turn and take off down the corridor, the sound of footsteps quickly following behind.
I have no idea where to go. In the dark, I can barely see anything. I've grown uncomfortably familiar with the layout of Lilydale, but in the dark, it might as well be a maze.
My first instinct is to run into the library, wondering if I can barricade the door like Grey did. I dismiss it quickly because I wouldn't be fast enough—plus it's too obvious .
Instead, I turn right, slamming open the doors to the hall. I keep running to the end, pushing my way into the empty kitchen.
It's eerily quiet, sounds distorted by the stainless appliances and countertops. Faint light reflects off silver, the smell of antibacterial spray still lingering in the air from the end of day cleanup.
Ducking behind a counter, I crouch low, holding my breath as slow approaching footsteps make their way toward the kitchen.
There's a small gap under the counter and through it, I see the door swing open deliberately slow, revealing a pair of black sweatpants.
Even though my heart is racing, there's no fear—I feel safe.
And… I want him to catch me.
As he walks around the kitchen, I quietly move forward, sneaking to the other side. His footsteps pause, body hidden from view by metal countertops.
I can feel the electricity in the air—the two of us trying to seek the other out. I can almost sense where he is, but then the air suddenly goes dead still.
There's nothing but silence, not even the faint echo of footsteps or the sound of breathing.
I don't dare move, my hand gripping a support bar underneath the countertop to steady my crouched body.
Has he even moved yet? I can't hear anything at all. It's almost as if he's not even in the room anymore…
Suddenly, there's a flash of movement in my peripheral vision before a hand wraps around my ankle, taking my footing out from underneath me. I let out a small scream, back hitting the cold tiles as I'm dragged across the kitchen floor.
A body moves over mine, hands slamming onto the ground next to my head as he looms over me and boxes me in.
My eyes scan over the mask, staring into the black eyes as my chest rises rapidly with heavy breaths.
His right hand lifts, stroking the side of my face with his knuckles before dipping lower. Fingers dance along my neck, grasping it as I let out a small gasp of surprise.
"Found you," he murmurs, his low voice almost a growl.
Reaching out with shaky hands, I grab the bottom of the mask. He doesn't try to stop me, and I push it all the way up, Damon's heated green eyes staring directly back at me.
I lift my head, pressing into his hand. His fingers tighten around my neck as he brings me forward, our mouths meeting in a frenzied kiss.
Shoving the mask all the way off, it lands with a clatter on the floor as I wrap my arms around his neck. His tongue seeks out mine, the two smashing against each other as I moan quietly into his mouth.
The pressure disappears from my neck, his hands snaking around my back as he shifts back into a kneel, bringing me off the floor with him. Holding onto me tight, I'm hoisted off the floor as he stands, my legs wrapping around his waist.
Damon slides me onto the edge of the counter, pushing my legs apart to stand in between them. His lips move from my mouth, kissing along my jawline, down to my neck.
Every inch of skin he touches feels like fire in my abdomen. It feels like I'm free falling with nothing to catch me but him.
His hands push under my shirt, firmly sliding up my waist. I reach down and grab the bunched-up material, flinging it over my head and dropping it on the floor. Damon pauses his movements, taking a moment to stare at my bare chest.
"Fucking perfect," he murmurs, dragging a finger down my sternum.
I shiver slightly from his touch, nipples hardening as he draws a lazy circle around one.
We're both watching his curious fingers move over my skin, his thumb brushing over the pink peak. He trails further down until he finds the waistband of my shorts, hooking his hands under as he starts pushing them over my hips.
I flatten my hands on the cold metal underneath me, lifting myself so he can slide my shorts and underwear down my legs. My ass barely comes back down onto the countertop when his hands shove my thighs further apart, putting my entire body on display for him.
Damon's eyes fall straight to my pussy, heat flashing through them as he takes in the sight of me. "I've been thinking about this all afternoon," he admits, one hand gripping my thigh while the other traces the pathway toward my clit.
Words get caught in my throat as I stare at him in a daze. He drops to his knees in front of me, head level with my pelvis as he uses his thumbs to open me wider.
It feels like I might die when he looks up at me, the two of us locking eyes as his tongue swipes out to glide over my clit. I jolt forward, back hunching over slightly, as my hand rests on the back of his head for stability as he covers me with his mouth, sucking my clit then replacing it with the tip of his tongue.
I can't look away—mesmerized by the sight of him gazing up from his knees while his mouth is glued to me.
Finally, he pulls back, brushing his thumb over the scar on my thigh—the markings left behind from Grey claiming me.
"Mine," he reads, tracing the scarred letters, but it feels more personal, like he's making his own statement.
"I want to see you," I tell him with an edge of desperation, tugging on his hoodie.
Damon stands, a smile visible on his face as he quickly disposes of the hoodie revealing his bare torso underneath. Hard, toned muscles ripple under my touch when my fingers reach out to stroke him.
I slide off the counter, my feet barely hitting the floor before my hands are tugging on the drawstring of his sweatpants. He lets me take the lead, glancing down as my hands grab the top of his sweatpants, pushing them to the floor. There's nothing underneath, my stomach twisting in knots at the realization that this was definitely planned. If it wasn't obvious in his messages, it is now.
He kicks his discarded sweatpants to the side, but my eyes are focused on only one thing. Damon grabs my hand, guiding it to the center of my attention, my fingers wrapping around his hard cock.
"Touch me, Avery," he growls, words sounding more like an order than a plea.
I swallow hard, cheeks a hot shade of pink as I stroke my hand along his length. He's as thick and long as Grey and Theo, my breath catching as I watch him shudder under my touch.
To be able to make him react like that, to watch his face twist in pleasure, it's an intoxicating feeling that I want to drown in.
My confidence grows as I move faster, my hand gripping him firmly—but I can't stop watching his face. His eyes are closed, face full of pleasure but it looks like he's trying to control himself, to let me have this moment and be in charge.
Him. The Circus of the Dead's controlling, emotionless leader.
And now he's mine.
To know that he trusts me enough to do this, to hand over control—it means everything.
Dropping to my knees, I pull my eyes away from his face, gazing in awe at his cock in front of me. I feel his eyes on me, but I don't look up, instead leaning forward to run my tongue along the tip.
"Fuck," he hisses under his breath, hands shooting out to grab my head. There's no pressure though, he waits for me to sink him into my mouth at my own pace, a moan vibrating against his length as I taste him.
I feel his fingers dig into my scalp, hips jerking slightly on their own as my lips drag along his skin. I'm going deliberately slow—for my benefit—to take my time getting to know this part of him. But I can sense his control is nearing breaking point.
When my tongue slides along the bottom of his shaft, he lets out a growl, suddenly stepping back so he falls out of my mouth. Hands tighten around my arms as I'm lifted from the floor, before I'm spun around and bent over the countertop.
I let out a gasp as the cold metal presses against my skin, nipples hardening even more. Behind me, Damon kicks my legs apart as his hand cups my pussy, sliding two fingers in.
There's no time to prepare as he starts fucking me with his fingers fast, cries spilling from my lips as pleasure shoots through my entire body.
Suddenly, his hands are gone from my body, a moan of protest being cut off as they are replaced by the tip of his cock. It's a difference of night and day, taking his time to enter me, inch by inch.
My body stretches around him, his cock sinking into my heat as my fingers attempt to grip the cool metal beneath me. When he bottoms out, he pauses, letting us both relish in the feel of our joined bodies.
Damon leans over me, his chest pressing into my back as he kisses my shoulder blades, brushing my hair aside. "I've waited so long to be inside you," he murmurs against my skin. "You feel even better than I imagined in my dreams."
He pulls back before I can reply, slamming his cock into me. I slide forward with a whimper, reaching an arm back to feel him. My hand rests on his waist as he thrusts into me, keeping my body boxed in against the countertop.
As his hips mold into mine, he grabs a fistful of my hair, ripping my head back. Lips find my neck, attacking my skin as he nips and sucks it into his mouth. He makes his way along my jaw, until he finally gets to my mouth, pressing his lips to mine.
I push my ass back in rhythm with him, his tongue forcefully shoving past my lips. Damon lets go of my hair, hand instead snaking around to grab the side of my face to hold me in place.
My body clenches around him, the sound of our skin slapping against each other echoing around the kitchen. I feel his other hand slide down my waist, curling around the front of my thighs until his index finger touches my clit.
Electricity shoots through my body, my back arching violently into him as he rubs my clit firmly.
My toes curl, feet pushing up as I stand on my tippy toes, shoving my ass back as much as possible to take him deeper. The pleasure continues to build, rolling through me intensely as I feel myself ready to crash.
"Come on me," he growls against my mouth. "I want to feel you again."
Even if I wanted to fight it, there's no way I would win. With three more deep thrusts, I fall over the edge, a scream ricocheting around the room as I shake beneath him. Damon slams into me a few more times, but my body squeezes him so tight that he joins me in the blissful high seconds later.
His face pushes into my neck, his low growl and curse vibrating against my skin as he stills, fingers pressing into me hard enough to leave marks.
I drop my head, the side of my face resting on the cool surface as the two of us breathe heavily, still joined together.
" Maintenant tu es à moi aussi ," he whispers, placing kisses over my neck and jawline. I don't know what the words mean, but I do know one thing.
Now that I have him, I'm not letting him go.