Echoes (Dance with My Demons #2)

25. Chapter 25

Chapter 25

Damon

The hallway erupts into spontaneous reactions. It's blissful—I love causing chaos. Even Lilydale's most powerful men are no match for their emotions—falling like dominoes when I crush their minds.

Pathetic.

Which is exactly why they will never be in control .

Avery lets out a sharp gasp like the na?ve little lamb she is. But at least she is showing growth. I'm starting to see what Grey sees in her—psychologically speaking, of course. Weeks ago she would never have resisted, cursed authority figures. I could hear her screaming at them before they emerged into the hallway. Then, to see her physically swing at Connor, well, that was just downright amusing. I've seen that side of her before. It's a dark side resting underneath all those people pleasing tendencies. But it appears those emotions are ripping out of her psyche even faster than we could have predicted.

She's reckless, unpredictable. But not uncontrollable.

We have her exactly where we want her. She's loyal to us, fighting to protect Cirque des Morts .

It's also abhorrent. She still doesn't have a handle on those emotions, but I think we can work with it. She has potential.

Maybe Grey was right—we can mold her after all. It's more than I can say for the rest of them.

Arthur scoffs in frustration while my dear old father growls under his breath, spitting out my name again like it's poison on his tongue.

"Don't push me, Damon."

I lift an eyebrow in amusement. "If you want to go toe-to-toe anytime, all you have to do is ask. But may I remind you that I've been kicking your ass since I was thirteen. How's the old back, anyway? Still giving you grief?"

"Watch your tongue," he snaps back. "Stop playing these childish games."

"Nothing childish about them," I shrug. "But if it makes you feel more powerful than whatever helps you sleep at night."

I switch my gaze to Connor, giving him a small nod. He tips his head down, understanding my silent command with ease.

Walking forward, I grab Avery's arm, pulling her toward me. Like clockwork, she moves to me, body relaxing visibly.

"I'll be taking Avery now. But it was a displeasure seeing you again, Father."

As we start heading down the hallway, I hear the commotion as they try to stop us before Connor interjects. I almost feel bad for him—he'll lose his job now. But I'm sure he'll have no problem finding another one. The world is full of desperate employees looking for staff to abuse.

Avery keeps pace easily despite our difference in height, her cheeks flushed with anxiety and panic. But to her credit, she stays strong.

Neither of us look back at the chaos down by Christopher's office, and frankly, none of them will dare try to stop us now. That would mean physical restraints—and I'm certain none of them want their expensive suits damaged. They don't have the balls to do their own dirty work. I'm sure they probably say the same about me.

I know what everyone says about me.

I have an army. I have Grey so my hands don't get dirty.

My father knows very well that if push comes to shove, I'll fight back—and win. It's why he stopped trying to physically punish me the moment I outgrew him in size and height.

The first time he ever laid hands on me, I had him on the ground within fifteen seconds.

The second time he tried, I broke three of his fingers.

And the third and last time… I dug the tip of my knife into his stomach, promising him I'd cut out his kidneys to sell on the black market.

After that, he never tried to touch me again. And when he knew he was no match for me, he locked me up.

Bypassing the library doors, I take us straight to the entrance to the Westwood Wing. As soon as we're safely in the secure corridor, Avery lets out a long held breath.

"What the fuck just happened?" she whispers, and I'm not entirely sure if she's just mumbling to herself.

"We can't leave you alone for five minutes apparently," I shoot back.

Avery swings her head to look at me, still keeping pace. "I didn't have much of a choice, Damon. I had no idea what I was walking into."

"That's unfortunate," I say sarcastically, stopping in front of a door.

Knocking four times on the door of room 307, I slap my card on the access pad, punching in the code. It buzzes, the sound of metal unlocking.

Swinging open the door, my eyes fall to Grey, on his bed, staring at the roof. He's scarfing down a candy bar, tapping his foot to the sound of music coming from a laptop on the desk.

"Hey, little killer," he grins, ignoring me as his eyes find Avery immediately.

"Grey," she murmurs, brushing past me as she walks inside. "Jesus fuck. You should hear what just happened."

I let out a laugh, pulling the door closed behind me. It clicks, locking back into place. But unlike most of the other rooms here, Grey's room, like mine, has a hardwired pad by the door. It's set to deactivate the lock from the inside, allowing us to get out whenever we please.

I've had them set up for years, with only a few chosen people lucky to have one. Jillian and Byrone have one too, of course, particularly since my little hacker helped set them up. I know if I didn't allow her to have one, she'd go without, even though she could bring Lilydale's entire system down almost completely on her own. But with hard work comes reward—I'm not entirely ruthless. Besides, it gives Jillian and Byrone the power to see each other outside of free time. If sex helps keep them focused for me, then who am I to stand in the way of that?

"Huh? What happened?" Grey says, sitting up and looking at me.

Leaning against the wall by the desk, I throw him a little smirk. "My father is here. Apparently, Arthur thought it was appropriate to drag Avery into a meeting with them."

His eyes darken immediately, shooting back to Avery as if he's examining her body for evidence of harm.

"It's fine," I hear her say to him in a calming voice. "No one hurt me."

Hm. Apparently, Avery can read Grey too. I shouldn't be surprised considering how close they are to each other. Hell, Grey can sense Avery's whereabouts at any given time.

"They were trying to drag her off to solitary confinement," I interject, watching as rage washes over his face.

"Those cunts! Are they still out there?" he snaps, heading to the door.

Before I can stop him, Avery jumps in front of the doorway, resting her hands on his chest. "We're not going to do that. It's just going to cause unnecessary problems."

"They were trying to take you."

"I know," she murmurs softly. "But they didn't. Damon stopped them."

She looks over his shoulder at me, giving me a small smile. It throws me off a little. Her appreciation shines through her expression, and I just shrug, looking away.

I don't know why I stopped them if I'm being honest. It's not the first time I've seen people dragged away screaming.

I tell myself it's because it would throw Grey into a spiral. He'd probably kick down every door until he found her, drawing attention to us.

But still… there was something a tad unsettling about the way she was screaming.

It's nothing though. Just a stark reminder that we all need to be on guard.

I've known for some time what the plan is, and now judging by today's theatrics, I was correct. But it also means Arthur is getting ready to make his move. It was just lucky that Jillian alerted me that we had a visitor from the live camera footage.

"Thanks, Deadman," Grey says firmly, giving me a nod.

"Don't mention it. No, really—don't," I scoff.

Avery laughs, making both of us look at her in surprise. She notices, cheeks flushing.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to laugh. It's just… a little fucked up."

I know what she's referring to. And I assume she has questions. She doesn't need answers though—however, I do.

"How exactly do you know my father?" I ask her sternly.

Avery locks eyes with me, and I get ready to send her my best warning glare, but it's not needed. She immediately starts talking, one hand still resting on Grey like she's trying to ground him.

"Alexander came to visit me the night I was arrested. He was there with my social worker," she says confidently. "He didn't say who he was, but my social worker, Margaret, mentioned he was on the Lilydale board."

"He is," I confirm, watching her nod.

"He said that he was there because of my admission, indicating that the board was trying to decide what to do with me."

Grey snaps his head toward me, eyes flashing. He's starting to piece things together, the cogs turning in his mind. I shoot him a glance, gesturing for him to be patient.

"And what did the board say?" I ask her, annoyed that this conversation hasn't been relayed to me yet.

Avery frowns. "They said they weren't going to press charges and that they would accept me back into the facility. With stipulations, of course."

"Of course," I repeat, rolling my eyes. "Just like Arthur did upon your return."

She nods. "Margie made it out like it was a good thing."

Grey scoffs, shaking his head. "It was a murder investigation. Lilydale didn't have the power to press charges. It would have been up to the police."

"That would make sense," Avery mutters slowly, face scrunched up in thought. "It did seem odd that I was arrested, and then Alexander said it was a suicide. It happened too quickly for a thorough investigation to occur."

"Money speaks power," I answer. "They wouldn't have wanted the bad publicity."

Avery nods again, this time faster. "He said something about the facility's reputation."

"Of course he did," I laugh. "That's all they care about."

"Obviously," Avery sneers, but it's not toward me. We all know what the staff think about Lilydale—this is just a giant publicity scheme to generate money.

Grey turns to look at me, patience finally snapping. "You made a deal."

"I did," I agree.

Avery looks at me, baffled. "What deal?"

"I made a deal with my father," I tell her, before looking at Grey. "In exchange for your freedom back to Lilydale."

She gasps. "I knew you had something to do with it."

"And are you going to share those details now?" Grey asks.

"The deal was that Avery returned to the facility, Christopher's workload was reduced, and in exchange, I gave my father something he wanted."

Grey nods, apparently satisfied with that answer. It's not the full story, but it's enough to appease him for the time being. Avery, on the other hand, stares at me with a hardened expression.

"You wanted Dr. Smith's workload reduced? Why?"

My face twitches in annoyance. She shouldn't be asking questions that she has no business knowing about. But… for the sake of being nice I give her a response.

"I told you that there were secrets you weren't aware of. All you need to know is that we need to take back as much power as possible from the staff. Christopher was trying to meddle in things. After all, he gave you that fake key."

Avery grimaces at the memory. "I know. But still… I'm not sure I entirely believe that Dr. Smith is the bad guy here."

"Why do you say that, babe?" Grey asks, perplexed.

I resist the urge to roll my eyes. I have no doubt that Christopher puts on his best charming act for her. But deep down, he's an asshole who wants to see me knocked off my throne.

"In that meeting," Avery starts, looking at me. "Before Damon turned up, they were pretty harsh to him. It was almost like he was trying to defend me."

"It's his charm, Avery. Don't let it fool you," I scoff in disgust.

"He tried to argue that I shouldn't go into solitary confinement," she argues weakly.

Grey looks at me, trying to gauge my reaction. I just narrow my eyes, annoyed that the two of them can't seem to read any situation that doesn't involve each other.

"It's an act, Avery. Stop letting people pull the wool over your eyes."

Avery crosses her arms, looking away. "Doesn't matter anyway. I've been reassigned to the new psych whenever they start. They said Dr. Smith wasn't doing a good enough job to fix me."

"You don't need fixing, little killer," Grey murmurs, brushing some hair off her shoulder. "Your little deranged self is perfect."

A small smile appears on her face, but it's obvious she's still mourning the loss of Christopher. It makes me want to throw up.

"There's another reason why they were harsh to him," I say smugly. Avery looks up, eyes widening in surprise.

"Oh?"

"It's because he's my cousin, Avery. He's Alexander's nephew. So, if that doesn't convince you that people aren't who they seem, then I don't know what will."