Page 76 of Echoes

Which is exactly whytheywill never bein control.

Avery lets out a sharp gasp like the naïve 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 protectCirque 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 adispleasureseeing you again, Father."

As we start heading down the hallway, I hear the commotion as they try to stop us before Connor interjects. Ialmostfeel 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 ofthem 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.

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