Echoes (Dance with My Demons #2)

24. Chapter 24

Chapter 24

Avery

When I emerge from the aisle, I spot Grey and Damon standing by the table, muttering quietly to each other. As usual, Grey's attention switches to me instantly, the moment I step out from behind the curtain.

I feel Theo's presence behind me, following me as I cross the small distance to the two men. It's reassuring to know that Theo has my back, even if I'm heartbroken as to why.

And as for Grey…

Well, he's trying. And that counts for everything.

It's never an easy task to fight something that comes naturally to you, but he's willing to give it his best shot. I try not to ponder on the possibility that things could go south at any moment, living in the present.

"Hey," I smile at Grey, stopping next to him.

He looks at me with a perplexed look, scanning my face. "What's wrong?" he asks, eyes shifting over my shoulder to Theo.

"It's okay," I tell him gently, knowing that my shit poker face gives me away every time.

I'm relieved that things are good for once, but similar to Grey, you can't just get over your trauma instantly. It's like telling people that you are depressed and they ask ' have you tried being happy? '.

Have you tried not loving two people?

Loving them both feels like breathing to me. I need it to live, to function. And in return, I'm breathing in them. They are the life force for me right now, the strength to face Whittingham's torture. Let him do his worst—because look who I have behind me.

"Alright, little killer," Grey smiles, dropping the subject.

"We're all good, right?" I ask knowingly.

He nods, eyes flickering to Theo once again. Theo must also nod back to him because Grey's jaw twitches slightly, but the smile never leaves his face.

I turn to Damon, his bored expression staring off at the corner like he's being forced to watch a real life rom-com.

"Are we all okay?" I ask again, this time at Damon.

He looks over at me, slight surprise on his face. "What does this have to do with me, Avery? I couldn't care less what happens between the three of you."

"I know," I reply softly. "But this is your kingdom, Damon. It affects you, right? I know that having Theo join tonight wasn't part of the original plan, and despite you probably agreeing for the sake of Grey, I just wanted you to know I appreciate it."

Damon's eyes narrow over me, but this time, it's not in annoyance. "It wasn't Grey's idea."

"True," Grey interjects. "Deadman is the mastermind behind the plan."

"Really?" I ask baffled. "Well… thanks, I guess."

"Whatever."

I hover awkwardly for a few seconds before turning away to look at Theo and Grey. "So, what now then?"

Grey nods his head toward the food table. "Grab some food. I also brought some snacks that you can take back to your room to hide."

"That's so sweet of you," I murmur. "But hopefully I won't be missing any more meals."

"They are still a lot better than the bland shit we get served," he grumbles. "Theo can take some too."

It's nice hearing him use Theo's first name again. I give him a bright smile, heading over to the table.

Mountains of food still remain untouched, resembling a buffet. I watch as Theo's eyes slowly linger across it, wondering if he's going to eat anything.

Reaching for a piece of pizza, I remember an earlier conversation, raising an eyebrow as he takes a bite.

"No pineapple on that pizza."

Theo's nose wrinkles in disgust. "For good reason. At least they have taste."

I shake my head with silent laughter, grabbing a slice as well. "I'm not surprised you're a meat man," I say, noting the heavy protein toppings. "Not surprising at all."

"Avery, I need to see you in my office."

I look up from my bed in surprise as Dr. Smith stands in my doorway.

Breakfast has not long ended and I have no professional appointments today, so I assumed I'd be locked up until lunchtime.

"Okay," I mutter hesitantly, climbing off the bed.

Slipping my shoes on, I follow him down the hallway, wondering why he doesn't have a guard with him. He buzzes us through the doors and as we approach his office, I notice the door is wide open.

I'm annoyed—is he leaving his office unattended where anyone could wander in and try to access files again?

As we reach the open doorway, it becomes apparent as to why it's wide open.

Sitting inside Dr. Smith's office in the usual guest chairs is Mr. Whittingham and… Alexander.

My brows crease together as I'm ushered inside by Dr. Smith, noting an extra chair has been set up where we normally play chess. I sit down, looking at the two men suspiciously.

What the hell is this about?

I don't speak yet, just watching them as Dr. Smith takes a seat at his table, humming happily to himself. Whittingham hasn't taken his eyes off me since I walked in, a serious expression on his face. However, his guest has barely acknowledged my presence at all.

"Thank you for joining us, Ms. White," Mr. Whittingham starts, a slightly aggressive tone to his voice.

"I didn't have a choice," I murmur.

Out of the corner of my eye, I swear I see Dr. Smith try to hide a smile, but I keep my gaze on the other two men.

"You remember Alexander?" Whittingham says, gesturing to his colleague.

I nod once. "Yes."

"Avery," Dr. Smith interjects. "They wanted to organize a meeting to discuss your return. I thought it was best to have me here for support."

Finally, I pull my attention away, looking at Dr. Smith. "I've been back for nearly two weeks. What do you mean my return?"

Mr. Whittingham clears his throat. "Your stipulations, if you will."

My blood freezes, eyes narrowing on the well-dressed men. "What about them?"

Alexander takes notice of me for the first time, his sharp eyes piercing into my face. "I'm told that you haven't been following Arthur's conditions."

"Stipulations," I point out. "And I have nothing to report—to either of you."

"Now, that's not true, is it?" Mr. Whittingham hisses, catching me off-guard. "Besides that, you were advised not to interact with certain students. However, as you know, I spotted you with them."

I feel anger flood through my system, my fists curling in my lap. "There's only so many patients here. How do you expect me to avoid them?"

He opens his mouth to speak but Alexander raises a hand to Mr. Whittingham's face. "I'm here to collect , Ms. White."

"I just told you—I don't have anything to report to you either."

Alexander straightens up in his spot, intimidation starting to emanate from him. "Any information is appreciated."

I fold my arms when I notice Dr. Smith staring at my fists, hiding my hands under my elbows. "I have nothing."

"This is bullshit," Whittingham hisses in frustration. "I told you not to accept her back," he adds the last part to Alexander.

"Now, now," Dr. Smith says calmly, eyes shifting between the two men. "Let's try to take a breath. Perhaps you could start by providing examples of what you need from Avery. She's been through a lot. This conversation isn't beneficial to any party right now."

"Don't patronize me, Christopher," Alexander snarls. "You and I will be having a conversation next."

Dr. Smith raises an eyebrow, the calm demeanor vanishing before my eyes. "Let me guess—about the new psychiatrist you have coming on board?"

The other two men look surprised, making him smile.

"Yes," Dr. Smith laughs coolly. "I'm well aware. Apparently, all the other staff knew about the newcomer except me. People talk in the staff room."

A new psychiatrist?

"Glad we have that sorted then," Alexander says. "You can start the onboarding process."

"I don't need assistance."

"That's not up to you."

Mr. Whittingham catches my eye, and I just stare back, baffled. I don't feel privy to this conversation, but at least it deflects from me for a few minutes.

"You'll be under a new doctor, Ms. White. We'll have a new psychiatrist on board to share the workload with Dr. Smith. I think it would be in everyone's best interests to transfer you."

"Why?" I blurt out, looking at Dr. Smith. "He's my psychiatrist."

Dr. Smith gives me a tight smile, but Whitface just scoffs.

"It's unfair to Dr. Smith to have to manage one-hundred patients on his own. It's not feasible long term with the amount of sessions each patient requires. And unfortunately, it appears that your sessions with Dr. Smith have not been helpful to your recovery . Therefore, we will try you with the new psychiatrist."

"How the fuck would you know if they haven't helped?" I snap, unable to help myself.

Sure, I don't like the guy much. But if I'm being honest, he's definitely helped put things in perspective for me—stolen file aside.

"Clearly, since you are still insubordinate," Mr. Whittingham snaps back, looking more and more stressed. I don't know if it's my lack of cooperation, the argument between the staff, or the presence of Alexander. No matter the reason, it's unnerving to see him lose his cool. He's always an uptight asshole, reminding us of his superiority.

Maybe he needs a room here.

"That's enough," Alexander says, voice raised. "Arthur, control yourself."

"Yeah… control yourself ," I mutter under my breath.

Whittingham looks like he wants to get up from his seat to throttle me, but he falls silent, leaning back into his chair.

Alexander looks at me, still annoyed like I'm scum beneath his expensive Italian leather shoes.

"Ms. White… don't be foolish. We are aware of the gang situation within Lilydale."

"Gang?" I sputter. "What the hell are you talking about?"

It's news to me that there's a gang. Unless…

"I believe they call themselves the Circus of the Dead."

Silence falls in the room. My eyes shoot between the three of them rapidly, none of them surprised. Well, neither am I.

It's never been a secret that there's a hierarchy from the inside. Damon has had some hold on Arthur since well before I arrived. But so what? We're a bunch of people meeting, taking control of the only world we know. It's not like the Lilydale staff are jumping around, begging to help us.

"Not sure what you are referring to," I finally answer. "I haven't heard of it."

Mr. Whittingham's face twitches from beside Alexander, and against my better control, a smirk appears on my face for a split second before I quickly remove it.

"Get to the point, gentlemen," Dr. Smith sighs.

"Gladly," Alexander sneers. "I want that information, Ms. White."

I shrug. "I don't have any."

The three of them stare at me with different expressions. Mr. Whittingham looks pissed off—like I took a shit in his morning cereal. Alexander appears annoyed, sick of going around in circles. And Dr. Smith… well, he almost looks amused.

"Ms. White. Are you aware I could have you removed from Lilydale immediately?" Alexander starts, a threat in his tone.

Nodding, I hold his gaze. "Yep."

"And you also understand that while I am not a member of day-to-day staff at Lilydale, I have the authority to make decisions in regards to your admission."

"Still yes."

"Great," he says happily, surprising me. "Arthur, call the guards. Have them escort Ms. White to solitary isolation. I think a week should do it."

My demeanor drops, mouth opening in shock. "What?!"

Alexander looks at me, eyes narrowing. "Play stupid games, win stupid prizes, Ms. White."

"Wait a minute," Dr. Smith loudly chimes in. "That's not necessary."

"Do not question my decisions, Christopher, or else you will be out of a job. I easily found a psychiatrist to step into the new role. I can easily find a replacement for you as well."

Mr. Whittingham walks past us, opening the office door. I hear him motioning for someone, my heart racing. I turn to Dr. Smith, eyes pleading with him. He looks back at me with sorrowful eyes, defeated, shaking his head.

"You can't let them take me," I shout to him as a guard enters the room. "I haven't done anything!"

The guard grabs my arms, pulling me toward the door. I struggle in his grip, trying to break loose.

My feet drag along the ground as he pulls me into the corridor, the three men watching from the doorway.

I let out a scream of frustration, throwing my elbows back. I manage to clip the guard in the ribs, resulting in him slamming me chest-first into the wall to get a better grip on me.

"Get your fucking hands off me!" I screech, hearing footsteps behind me.

"What's going on here?"

I stop struggling at the familiar voice, turning my head to find Damon standing in the hallway. He's staring at the five of us casually, hands in his pockets. There's not another guard in sight escorting him, and when his eyes land on the three men by the door, his lips upturn into a smirk.

"Family reunion without me? I'm hurt," Damon says sarcastically, touching his chest.

"Get back to your room," Whittingham sneers at him.

"I don't think I will," he replies, unfazed. "Get your hands off Avery," he adds, staring daggers at the guard.

To my surprise, I'm let go, slumping against the wall. I quickly turn around, watching them all with wide eyes as I try to catch my breath.

The guard stands next to me, still close by at the ready, but he's watching Damon. I recognize him from other interactions—Connor, I think.

"Don't listen to him," Whittingham huffs to the guard. "Take her to solitary confinement."

Damon's eyes dart over to me against the wall before returning to Whittingham, smirking. "He doesn't answer to you, Arthur. I told you to remember your place."

He scoffs, turning to Alexander. "Do something ."

My mouth falls open at the strange turn of events. Dr. Smith just leans against the doorframe, seemingly happy not to get involved—and also relieved to see Damon step in.

"Damon—" Alexander starts, a look of fury on his face.

"Oh, fuck off, Father. Save whatever pathetic bullshit you are about to say for someone who cares."