Echoes (Dance with My Demons #2)

23. Chapter 23

Chapter 23

Theo

Avery stares at me, stunned. I can see the waves of emotion swirling through her mind, while she fights to pick the correct one to navigate with.

"They deserved it," she says, a hint of uncertainty in her voice.

I laugh, looking up at the roof. Even now, she's making excuses again. That's the beautiful thing about her—even with the darkest souls, she tries to find light.

Unfortunately for her, she won't find it here.

There's no good in me. And I'm perfectly fine with that.

Ripping them apart was the single best accomplishment of my life. They took Madison from me, and in return, I watched the life drain from their eyes while they begged for mercy.

It's still a mystery how I ended up in Lilydale. I know all the fucking bullshit they try to spew about this place.

Rehabilitation center, my ass.

People talk. It's a natural instinct. They want to be liked, they want to be loved. They blurt out every piece of intimate detail, desperate for their flaws to be accepted. And Avery is no exception.

The moment I arrived in this place, people were talking about their backstories—painting themselves as victims. They all had an excuse—mental illness, self-defense. It was because of those pathetic human emotions that they were placed here.

I have none of that. I don't have a mental illness. These men didn't try to harm me. I wasn't defending myself or trying to protect anyone.

Simply put… they stole from me. And I made them pay.

I guess you could say if anything, I've had anger issues all my life. But rightfully so because people are fucking cunts.

I have no patience for any of them. I don't have time to give pity, hold hands while someone cries about life. We all have problems—take a spoonful of cement and harden the fuck up.

"Did they really deserve it?" I ask her darkly. "Put the personal attachment aside and ask yourself again."

Avery pauses, hesitating. "They bullied her…" she says slowly.

"They did," I acknowledge. "But at the end of the day, she made that decision. They didn't hold the gun to her head. They didn't pull the trigger. She did. So, I ask you again… am I innocent?"

"No," Avery answers, surprising me. "I guess not. But, put yourself in my shoes. My father abused me. He had his friends rape me, he used me like currency. I have scars all over my body, inside and out because of him. He did the same thing… he forced my mother to leave this place, making her take her own life. Did he deserve it?"

"Yes," I growl back. "He deserved to fucking die."

She nods. "So I'm not innocent either."

I smirk at her, completely amused by her comparison. She thinks we're the same. It's… adorable.

"We're not the same, Avery. Don't act stupid. You didn't mean to kill your father. While he absolutely deserved every bit of suffering, you didn't do it on purpose. I, on the other hand, willingly and proudly murdered those men. I'd do it again in a heartbeat."

"I thought you said you had killed a man—singular," she points out.

Laughing, I shoot her an incredulous look. "I did. Then another ."

Avery lets out a disappointed sigh, and for a moment, an unfamiliar feeling sweeps through me. She looks away, picking at the skin on her knee with the hand that's not holding onto me.

"I thought about it," she whispers. "I nearly bought a gun."

I stare at her in silence, watching as she rambles quietly. I know it's aimed at me, but there's a hollowness to her voice that makes her sound like she's in a trance.

"A gun?"

She nods. "Things got really bad after my fifteenth birthday. He stabbed me, and it was shortly after that when I was raped multiple times. It was so bad."

Rage—blinding rage—rears its head but before I can speak, she cuts me off, still muttering away like she can't stop it.

"I always wanted a family one day. My best friend and I used to dream about getting away from our shitty families. We'd always say that we'd break the generational curse, have our own families and give our children everything we never had."

My eyebrows furrow, wondering where she's going with this information. It's concerning me—it's like she's becoming a shell of her usual self right before my eyes.

The light has vanished from her face, despite it being there only a few minutes ago. Even though it's dark in the aisle, the light largely blocked out by the shelves and curtains, I notice her skin appears more pale—grayish even. The post-fucking flush that had tinted her skin pink is gone, and it scares me. It feels like she could sink into the floor and vanish at any second.

"You wanted love," I state confidently, watching as she nods slowly.

"Yeah. I'm not stupid. I knew from an early age that my home life wasn't normal. Looking at other kids at school, they were so happy. Their parents never missed a recital or school meeting. They bought them supplies and prom outfits. Hell, even the varsity kids had their families go to football games and shit. It was like I was standing inside a glass box, watching the world around me. I was trapped, but I could see the normal world passing by, while no one looked into the box and noticed that mine wasn't the same."

The thought of Avery feeling invisible makes me angrier. The whole system has failed her—from start to end. I ended up here because of my own doings, but she didn't. If one person—just one fucking person—had taken the time to stop and really look, they could have saved her. Someone could have intervened, rescued her—fuck, even put her into the foster care system. She would have been better off.

But that's the problem with people. They are so caught up with their own lives they forget to look around. Selfish, egotistical vultures, only looking out for themselves. Even the people who were meant to protect her—teachers, doctors, family members—they all turned a blind eye.

Now they are living their best lives and Avery is trapped in Lilydale, living the guilt and trauma over and over.

She looks over at me with a sad smile, unfazed by my silence. "When the doctors at the hospital said I'd never be able to have children because of the injuries, it ruined all my plans for the future. They took the only hope I had. So, I tried to buy a gun from this little store in town. I was going to wait until my father was too drunk to notice his surroundings and pull the trigger."

"What happened?" I ask curiously, already knowing the answer.

Avery shrugs. "I couldn't do it. I just didn't have it in me to go through with it. And so… it became my own fault that it kept happening."

"Avery," I growl, jolting to turn toward her. "It was not your fault."

"I had the opportunity to end it," she murmurs softly. There's not a single tear in her eyes—just sadness. I know she's numb recalling it all, blaming herself. "And I didn't."

I shake my head furiously. "But you got there in the end. He's being eaten by maggots now and he'll never hurt you again."

She laughs quietly, some light finally coming back into her eyes. Smiling, she shrugs again. "And now we're here. I'm still trapped, but at least it's better than the outside. For me, at least."

"I hate it here," I admit to her. "Well, I used to. Until you came along. Now it's my favorite place."

"Your favorite place is an asylum?" she mutters in amusement. "You must be as fucked up as I am."

"Worse," I reply with a smirk. "I'm so much worse, baby."

Her eyes widen in shock, her lips parting. "What?"

I just laugh in response, standing up. "Come on. I better take you back to the overlords before you get in trouble."

Holding out my hands, I help Avery to her feet, eyes lingering on her flustered face. A simple word has rocked her, malfunctioned her existence and everything she's ever known.

Well, it's not hard when all you've ever known is fucking disaster.

You know things are bad when someone is surprised and delighted by the bare minimum.

I wish I had the words to talk to her about her confession, her trauma. But I don't. I think tugging at that stitch is just going to undo all the glue she's used to try to keep it sealed tight.

She deserves to focus on the positives right now—even if there's very little available. But, at least there's some. That has to count for something, right?

We duck out of the curtain, Avery immediately finding Grey with her eyes. I don't know what she sees in that asshole, but it's her—she sees things the rest of us don't.

She's spent her entire life in a box, studying people, watching them… so she sees it.

Or maybe it's because she sees herself in him.

Lilydale might be a fucking prison full of unhinged psychopaths, but we all have one thing in common—trauma.

And bonding over trauma is a natural instinct for most. Not me though—there's no trauma, only regret. I regret not making them suffer more.

If I had maybe one, it's that I regret missing the bus home and having to wait an extra ten minutes.

Maybe if I had been quicker, I would have found Madison in time. I would have stopped her before she pulled the trigger. Like Avery, all she needed was love. She needed someone to tell her it would be okay—even if it was just from her younger brother.

It was that single event that led to everything changing.

One late bus.

Seven minutes too late.

A person shouldn't know what brain matter feels like smashed under your knees. A person shouldn't have to call their parents on vacation to tell them that their daughter is dead—her lilac walls splattered in blood.

Like Avery's, my parents couldn't hold their shit together either—not that I blame them.

I wouldn't want to stay a family either. And I certainly wouldn't want to lose both children in the space of a week.

Four days. That's how long it took.

That's how long it took me to splatter their own brain matter.

It took a little planning and patience.

I toyed with the idea of killing one first, so that the other knew I was coming for him next. But given the police involvement around my sister's demise, I knew I probably only had one chance to get what I wanted. And there was only one time I'd have them both together in the same room.

Madison's Funeral.

The part that disgusted me the most?

I was able to lure them away after the funeral with false information about Madison's Will.

That was the final straw for me, the confirmation that my decision was justified. They were more interested in thinking they were getting something, instead of grieving her like the rest of us.

I killed Richard first, laughing when his guts flew all over a horrified Joseph. They weren't so tough anymore when I had a gun pointing at them. Where was that bullying, that martyrdom they had tried to project onto Madison?

Dead as they were going to be.

Joseph had begged—like I knew he would. Sobbed like a baby, asking for mercy.

He watched as I sliced open Richard's chest, ripping out his silenced heart with my bare hands. And then I made Joseph take a bite, watched him struggle to tear the strong muscle with his shaking teeth.

It's funny what people will do—what limits they will push—when they want to survive.

Joseph thought it would save him.

He was very wrong.

I pieced the two men together for one last time, symbolically honoring Madison.

Richard met the same end as Madison. And Joseph became one with Richard.

And in the end… the three of them wound up together.

Just like it should have been in life.