Echoes (Dance with My Demons #2)

6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Avery

I'm dragged back to my room for a short period.

I relish the chance to lay down on my bed, desperate for a nap. But it's short lived when the door swings open again a short time later.

"Get up. Time for class," the guard orders.

I groan, fighting back the urge to cry. It's amazing how much sleep can affect our functioning. It's no wonder that sleep deprivation used to be wielded as a torture method. I'm physically exhausted and hurting—mentally even more so. I'd give anything to just have a break for an hour, but everyone in this facility seems hellbent on breaking me.

Dragging my feet, I follow the guard to Charmaine's room, the burn in my hands starting to return. I'm tempted to request medical assistance, but I don't want to give anyone leverage against me. I don't want them to know that they are getting to me. It's bad enough the staff are trying to mess with me, but now I have Damon to worry about as well.

He's everywhere I go. And if it's not him, it's a proxy.

I slump into my usual seat, resting my chin on my palm while my elbow is propped up on the desk. We wait as the others arrive one by one, my heart malfunctioning as Grey enters last.

As he steps into the classroom, head up high, he briefly looks over at me. It only lasts a split second before he looks away, sitting down in his seat.

"Alright, everyone," Charmaine says loudly. "I know it's been a rough few days with the death of your fellow student, but we must continue. Today, we'll be diving into some history and geography. On your desks you'll find some reading to do. Please start there and familiarize yourself with the material. Afterwards, we'll have a discussion on the events and where they took place."

My fingers skim over the paper, eyes threatening to close at any second. I give myself a mental pep talk, telling myself I'll sleep in a few hours. I just have to get through class, free time, dinner… then I'll be on the home stretch. People do it all the time—parents, people studying, shift workers. How hard could it be?

As my eyes scan over the reading material, I have to keep going back, re-reading sentences because my brain can't comprehend anything. Eventually, I manage to finish, barely grasping the material but proud of myself for giving it my best effort.

"Okay, so by now, you should have realized that we're focusing on the Great Depression. I'm sure many of you have heard of it or have previously studied it to some extent," Charmaine says, pacing in front of her desk. "It started in 1929 and lasted until 1939. It was a severe global economic crisis which we know heavily affected the US stock market, leading to the Wall Street crash. As you would have read in your papers, it had a ricocheting effect. Not only did it start hardship in the US with unemployment rates, but multiple countries were also hit. Experts are also confident that this era contributed to World War II."

I slump further in my seat, not at all surprised that we are focusing on something as aptly titled as The Great Depression. The irony doesn't skip past me, and I shake my head to myself, watching Charmaine.

She continues talking about the flow on effects, the geographical scale, and statistics. But as she drones on, the urge to pass out gets stronger. I push through it, fingers gripping the side of my desk for support. If I can physically hold on to something, it might keep me alert. Maybe that's why the desks have scratch marks embedded in them.

My brain struggles to keep up when I get that niggling feeling back in my stomach. Turning my head, I find Grey watching me, his light eyes scanning my posture, lingering on my clenched hand.

Instantly, my hand relaxes—but not out of relief. I know he's studying me, reading me like a book. I give him a quick smile out of habit before forcing myself to look back at Charmaine.

Eventually, I feel his gaze shift away. I'm hit with a small wave of disappointment, but it's for the best. Knowing I need to keep away from them is hard, but if they tried to fight me on it, that would be harder. At least this way, if Grey avoids me too, it's half the battle fought.

By the time class finishes, I'm back with the personal pep talks as I count down the time until I'm back in my room. Guards escort us to the hall, and we crowd around as usual. Given everything that's happened, I'm surprised to see Damon standing on a table, ready to direct people.

It takes me a few seconds to remember my designated number, even though I still have no idea what the hell they even mean.

When three is motioned with his fingers, I head toward the hall doors, a sense of déjà vu hitting me as I go to the library. It feels like I'm the new patient all over again—nowhere to go, no one to see, trying to hide from prying eyes.

I can only hope that the library is deserted. My success rate of being alone in the library isn't great, but it's the best option I have right now.

The courtyard will be full of students, same with the hall. I could go to one of the empty rooms down the corridor, but it's likely that Theo will be lurking around there.

The scent of dust hits me when I enter and I'm happy to find that I'm the only person in here at the moment. Some groups had already filed out of the hall at Damon's command, but most seemed to be content with going outside to catch some sunshine.

Sitting at the end of an aisle, I lean against the wall, contemplating the option of taking a nap in here. If it stays vacant, I might be able to curl up and sleep for a little while. But I hate the fact I'll have to stay on guard. If someone chooses to come in, I'll be alone and unconscious.

Still, despite my best reasoning that I should stay awake, my eyelids start to feel heavy. I shuffle over so my back is half against the corner of a shelf, and half on the wall, pulling my legs up to my chest. Leaning my chin on my knees, I close my eyes, convincing myself that I'll stay awake with my eyes closed.

I listen out for sounds, on alert for the library door opening at any time, but it stays quiet. It's only when I realize it's too quiet that I jerk my head up. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I know I've drifted off—having one of those weird naps where you're not awake, but it feels like you are.

My heart nearly yeets itself out of my mouth when my eyes find Theo sitting in front of me, watching me closely.

I didn't even hear him come in.

"Fucking hell," I yelp, head connecting with the wall behind me as I violently jolt. "Ow."

"What the hell did you do that for?" he asks, concern on his face.

I rub the back of my head. "I didn't deliberately headbutt the wall. You scared the shit out of me."

"Are you alright?" he replies, and I know he's not just talking about my head.

Recovering, I take a breath, looking at him. "I'm fine. But I need to go," I tell him, standing up. My legs shake, a wave of drowsiness swimming in my vision. I must sway a little because Theo stands up, grabbing the tops of my arms.

"Sit back down."

"I can't," I mumble, focusing on a red book perched on the shelf to control my dizziness.

Theo squeezes my arms to guide me to the ground, a tiny whine escaping my mouth. He instantly lets me go, eyes honing in on my arms. Reaching forward, he lifts the sleeves of my gray shirt up, spotting the bruises.

"Who the fuck did this?" he asks, fingers skirting around the marks.

"Guards and police officers," I answer in a standoffish tone. "You know what they are like."

His eyes narrow on the bruises for a second before he lowers the material back down. "Point them out to me. I'll deal with them."

"No," I quickly say. "It's fine, really."

"It's not fucking fine," Theo growls. "And another thing— why are you avoiding me ?"

My stomach drops. "I'm not avoiding you," I lie.

"Bullshit."

"I'm not," I argue weakly, still swaying.

Theo repositions his hands to my waist, picking me up slightly and sitting me back on the ground before I can protest. " Sit. Down ."

He takes a seat in front of me, blocking my path in case I try to stand again.

"Theo, I'm just tired. That's all."

"You're a terrible liar, Avery. What's going on? What happened with the police?"

I give him a sympathetic look, knowing he probably wants answers. Besides the awkward breakfast, the last time he saw me I was being ripped away from him in handcuffs. At the thought, guilt returns, but also, a little bit of suspicion.

I still don't know what happened to Sam. And Theo told me he had killed before and would do it again without hesitation. I was still willing to go down for him, but I had to know…

"Nothing happened with the police," I start. "They took me in for questioning and then I was released."

I purposely avoid mentioning Alexander, or the conversation I had with Margie. Some things are better left unsaid, especially if I need to protect him again. I've also been warned not to speak about things, to go with the flow. Apparently, Sam's death has been ruled as a suicide, but in my gut, I know that's not true. He was ruthless, an asshole—but despite everything, he wouldn't have killed himself.

Sam's apology still plays in my mind. It was so rehearsed, forced. But he didn't have a death wish— did he?

"They just released you?" Theo repeats, unconvinced. "Why would they arrest you for murder and then deem it a suicide? It's likely the autopsy hasn't even finished yet."

I shrug. "That's just what they told me." Pausing, I give him a non-judgmental, sad smile. "Theo, I need to know… what did you do to Sam?"

Theo raises an eyebrow at me. "I didn't do shit to him. I merely told him he had to apologize."

Staring at him in silence, I watch as his face changes—realization dawning.

"Do you think I killed him, Avery?"

"Did you?" I ask, barely above a whisper.

He breaks out in a laugh, the sinister sound almost confirming my suspicions.

"No, I didn't," he answers confidently. "Though, I wish I had."

"Oh…" I'm confused—and equally guilty for assuming it. "I thought—"

"You thought I killed him?"

I nod slowly. "It just seemed like it. He looked so terrified when he said sorry. Then when the police arrived, I thought they were coming for you."

Theo smiles, huffing into a laugh. "I would have killed him. I would have gutted him without hesitation. But that would have meant leaving you. And I'm not prepared to do that. Besides, if I was going to do that, I wouldn't be masquerading it as suicide. I would proudly wear his blood. I'd wear it like a medal."

"I don't think honorable killings are a thing," I mumble.

"There's nothing honorable about me," he replies coolly. "But no, I didn't kill him, Avery. But I'm flattered you thought so."

I stare at him bewildered, trying to decipher if he's being sarcastic. A genuine smile lingers on his face as he appears unfazed at my accusation.

That would have meant leaving you…

"If you didn't kill him, then who did?" I murmur, out loud.

Theo shrugs. "Beats me. The asshole had it coming though. I hope he suffered."

"Theo!" I scold. "Don't say that."

His eyes darken even more than usual. "I told you. I'm not a good guy, Avery. I don't give a shit about people like him. Frankly, the world is better off without him. After what he did to you, he deserved every single bit of misery. I'm just sad someone else took care of it."

"But you didn't want to leave me?" I repeat, changing the subject as my heart flutters nervously.

Theo looks away, smiling. "Don't get all mushy on me. Besides, you're avoiding the real question here. Why are you avoiding me?"