Echoes (Dance with My Demons #2)

16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

Avery

I hear the words but they don't instantly connect. Silence falls between us while Grey waits for the puzzle pieces to fall into place.

"You?" I stammer. "You killed Sam?"

Grey smiles, unfazed. "Of course I did. Now do you understand? We didn't frame you. I killed for you. So, yes—I guess Damon is right. You do have a hold on me."

I blink a few times, the candy bar slipping from my grasp. It hits the floor with a soft thud, but neither of us pay it any mind.

"But you were so mad at me," I murmur quietly in disbelief. "You told me we were done and that you didn't love me anymore. You told me to let you go."

He nods slowly. "I know. You hurt me badly. I want you all to myself and that was taken away from me. And on top of that, you let Ashwood mark you."

Grey's eyes drift down to the tattoo on my wrist, hiding the burns that taunted me for so long. I resist the urge to move it out of sight, but I know it wouldn't help the situation.

"I'm so lucky," I murmur. "I came to Lilydale expecting this to be the end of my life. And when I met you and Theo, I realized it might be the start of it. I should have been upfront and honest with you about it, but I've never been good with confrontation. I'm always worried that if I speak up, people will leave me. And then you did." I pause, forcing myself to hold eye contact with him. "It was my absolute worst fear come to life. But even when I was taken away by the police officers, you were all I thought about."

His face scrunches up with unreadable emotion, still boxing me against the wall.

"I don't like sharing," he says quietly. "It's ingrained in me not to want it. It destroyed my father." He spits the word out like it's dirty. My eyes trail down to the red scar on his neck, sorrow and pain filling me. It all makes sense now.

Even though we were never officially together, I can understand why he acted the way he did. It's my responsibility to own up to this. Everything he feels is valid—and because it was caused by me, it's my job to accept that.

"You're right," I murmur softly, looking back up at him again. "You're absolutely right. It's my fault for not thinking about this more clearly. I was caught up in my own feelings because of the file situation. I never wanted you to know all those things about me. I didn't want you to think less of me."

Grey's face softens, surprising me. "Little killer, I already knew all that about you. I just wanted to hear it from you. I wanted you to open up to me, to trust me."

"You what?" I ask with a gasp.

He smiles at me, a fraction of guilt on his face. "We read everyone's file before they start. We have the system hacked. That's what drew me to you."

I don't know how to feel about his confession. By comparison, I should be mad like I was at Dr. Smith, but I can't bring myself to feel the same way. It's a sickening feeling of relief, but also embarrassment.

And disbelief.

He knew everything about me… and still wanted me.

Me.

Flaws and all.

Murder charges, trauma, suicide attempt… everything.

"So, Damon read it too?" I ask wearily, looking down.

Grey hums in agreement. "I figured you'd be a good candidate to keep an eye on for the society. But as soon as I saw you in class, I knew you were going to be so much more to me."

"Until I fucked it up."

He laughs, letting out a sigh. "Maybe I fucked up too. Maybe that's the string that ties us together."

I look up in surprise, conflicted. "Then you'd be tied to every single person here."

"But you're the only one I want to be balls deep in, Avery. The only one I'd kill for."

"You'd kill for Damon," I point out confidently.

He nods. "Yes, but that's because of the bigger picture. I'd kill just to make you smile."

I can't help but smile at him. Perhaps I'm insane after all. Normal people get confessions of love. I get confessions of murder.

"But where do we go from here?" I ask nervously.

Grey frowns, leaning down to bring our bodies and faces closer together. "Here's your chance to be honest with both of us. Are you still going to be with Ashwood?"

My chest aches painfully. Swallowing hard, I nod slowly. "I can't give him up, Grey. I don't want to. And I don't want to give you up either."

He says nothing in return, that little voice of panic inside telling me to lie, to say what I know he wants to hear so he doesn't leave me. But I ignore it, trying to accept the fact that he will walk away again. But at least this time, I will have been honest with him. You can't have a relationship built on lies and distrust.

"I see," Grey mutters, deep in thought.

I reach between us, placing my hand on his chest. "Just tell me what I have to do to keep you. I'll do anything else. Anything."

Grey lifts his hand up, closing his fingers around my wrist. I can already feel my heart shattering, waiting for his rejection.

As he grabs my hand firmly, I get ready for him to break our connection, but surprisingly, he lifts our hands higher, placing my palm over his beating heart.

"This cold, black thing beats for you, Avery."

Hope starts to bloom in my chest, my finger tips pressing into his sternum as I desperately cling to his touch. "Really?"

He gives a singular nod. "I don't know how to make it work… yet. I want to kill him. I've thought about it every single day since I saw you together."

My mouth feels dry as confliction sends me into mental whiplash.

"But," he sighs. "I'll try my best not to kill him. That's the best I can offer right now. Besides, it's more protection for you, I guess."

I stare at him wide-eyed, fighting back tears. A war of emotion battles inside me, but this is a win. It's a huge win and I'll take whatever I can get.

"Grey," my voice breaks. I fling my arms around his neck, burying my face into his chest. He drops his arms and curls them around my back, and I notice how he visibly relaxes in my hold too.

"I'm not saying it will be easy," he mumbles into my hair. "And I'll be speaking to him . But he gets credit for looking out for you."

I nod against him, pulling back to look at him. He still looks pained at the idea, but at the same time, I feel that connection between us growing again.

He's back.

"Theo knows about us," I tell him slowly, checking for his reaction. "He wasn't mad."

I don't know why I'm telling him this. Maybe to inspire him… or comfort him. Or protect Theo.

"That you know of," Grey answers bluntly. "Have you relayed the specifics?"

I recoil slightly. "Well, no… he was trying to figure out what was going on when I got back from the police station."

"I suggest you start there," he says sharply. "Perhaps give him the same courtesy of knowing the full situation."

"I will," I murmur, nodding softly.

Grey's eyes flash before he takes a step back. I gaze at him perplexed, worried that I've said something to upset him.

"Before you do," he replies firmly. "I need to even the score."

"Even the score?" I repeat in confusion.

He grabs my waist with one hand, scooping me forward. Twisting us around, he lets go, my body falling onto Damon's mattress.

My body bounces, hands catching myself as I peer up at him, stunned.

Grey drops to his knees, pushing my legs apart. His fingers run over my inner thighs, examining the skin. "Right here," he murmurs, pushing his thumb into the top of my right adductor.

I glance down at my leg, too choked up to speak. I watch as he picks up the knife from the bed, running the sharp tip gently down my thigh.

"He marked you in his own way," Grey murmurs. "Now, I'm going to mark you in mine."

His eyes flicker up to mine, and although he doesn't say anything, I know he's silently waiting for the go ahead. I nod, his lips tugging into a smirk as he turns his attention back to my thigh.

Pressing the blade into my skin, a burning pain crashes through me. It's almost exactly like how it was with Theo—a bearable pain, extinguishing the emotional turmoil that haunts me. And like the tattoo… this means something. To me, and to the man between my legs slicing into my pale skin.

I feel blood roll down my thigh, dripping onto Damon's bed. I have no sympathy for his belongings though. This is what he wanted, right? He left us in his room with his blessing, so I guess it can be expected that we might make a mess.

A little hiss falls from my lips before I can stop it. I half-expect Grey to stop, but he doesn't. Instead, he slips his other hand under the legs of my shorts, pressing his thumb against my clit through my underwear. Fire rages through me at the feel of him, fueled by the knife cutting me open. As I bleed, it feels like all of my built up sadness is flowing out, leaving only the longing I have for him.

Grey pauses the knife's movements, turning his attention to my underwear as he pulls them aside under my shorts. Circling my clit, he groans under his breath, eyes flaring up at me.

"You're wet for me already."

I bite my bottom lip, giving him a little nod. "I might have a hold on you, Grey. But I promise that you have a hold on me too."

Something flashes in his eyes, the knife quickly slicing one final time before he flings it sideways across the room. It lands with such force that the tip digs into the wall, holding the knife horizontally in place.

Grey launches up from the floor, slamming his lips into mine. He kisses me hard, bruising my lips, but I couldn't care less. He sucks the air from my body, only pulling back when I start to tense up from needing a breath that I haven't bothered to take because I just want him.

Sliding back to the floor, he leans down, running his tongue up my thigh. The cut stings against his tongue, and when he pulls back, his lips are coated in specks of blood.

I watch breathlessly as he grabs the razor blade, slicing his palm in one swift movement. I make a choking sound in concern, but he squeezes his hand into a fist, holding it above my leg. Blood drips downs onto my thigh, mingling with my own.

Grey runs his fingers over my skin, mixing the red together. Leaning back, he smiles down at his work of art. Curiosity gets the better of me, and I hunch forward, looking down to see.

MINE.

Our eyes meet at the same time, his face proud. I swallow, feeling a wave of emotions.

I'm his.

Lifting the blade to his mouth, he runs his tongue over the metal without breaking our locked eyes. My chest heaves as I breathe deeply, and I reach down, running my fingers over his mark to feel it.

He watches intensely as I bring my index finger covered in our blood to my face, inspecting it before dropping it to my lips, slipping it inside. The metallic taste bursts on my tongue, but I barely get a chance to finish what I started before Grey is on top of me. My back slams into the mattress as he pushes me down, covering my mouth with his.

"You're fucking mine, Avery," he growls into my mouth. "This lifetime and the next one too."