Page 25 of Echoes

But maybe… just maybe… Mr. Whittingham handed me my 'get out of jail' card—excuse the pun.

Swallowing, I nod. "Yes, he had a conversation with me after I returned from the police station."

Damon nods, looking pleased. Grey, on the other hand, just appears downright mad.

"Well?" Damon asks impatiently.

It feels like my stomach is being clenched in tight knots. "He wants me to report back to him on things I hear around the facility."

A few people whisper among themselves, but judging by Damon's face, he already knows the extent of this. However, if I was a gambling woman, I'd wager that he doesn't know the rest of it.

"Also," I start, wondering if I'm about to sign my death sentence. "He had other stipulations too."

"Oh?" Damon answers, intrigued. "Such as?"

My eyes slowly flicker back to Grey. "I'm not allowed to socialize with any of you."

It's a broad mention, but I know Damon's smart. He knows I'm not referring to the society in general, but still, he nods slowly.

"Interesting. I wonder how he expects you to provide information then."

"It sounds like he's purposely setting me up for failure," I reply bluntly. "So that either way, he can get rid of me."

Damon sits down in his chair, tapping his chin. "I don't think you're the end goal. No—Arthur has something else up his sleeve. You're just collateral damage."

I roll my eyes. "I'm already collateral damage. Otherwise, I wouldn't have been framed for Sam's murder."

Before Damon can respond, Grey interjects angrily.

"What does that mean?" he snaps at me quietly.

I jolt slightly. "I think we know what I mean," I mutter. "You guys wanted me gone."

The table is still deathly silent, watching our interaction with bated breaths and wide eyes. Damon just laughs quietly, looking at Grey, amused.

"You don't know what the fuck you're talking about," Grey hisses through clenched teeth.

His harsh tone is a somber reminder of his new feelings toward me, the hurt returning in my chest. I look at him sadly, shrugging.

"It's okay. I don't blame you," I answer softly.

It's not how I wanted to have this conversation. I didn't want an audience to witness my confession or guilty feelings. But, I may not get another opportunity.

Damon puts his hand on Grey's shoulder, calming down the inferno building in his eyes. "Leave it," he orders Grey.

"No," he growls. "She's spitting out bullshit."

I cringe. "I'm just saying that I understand. And that I'm sorry."

It's an apology to him, even though I still maintain I haven't done anything wrong. I know I hurt him, and at the end of the day, that's what matters. His feelings are valid, and while everything we had is gone, I still want him to know that.

Damon squeezes his hold on Grey, looking around the room. "We'll adjourn the meeting temporarily. Please enjoy the food and use of the private rooms while we deal with this. Avery, keep your ass seated."

No one needs to be told twice, everyone quickly pushing off from their chairs as they grab food or head to the isolated aisles. I stay in my chair, watching as some people give me pitying looks, while others ignore me completely.

I look over at Damon and Grey, the two of them whispering heatedly to each other. Finally, Grey relaxes, letting out a sigh. I'm amazed that someone like Damon has the power to calm him, and for a weird second, I'm actually appreciative of that fact.

When everyone disappears from this end of the library, I expect to be alone with Damon, but he turns and vanishes out of sight behind a curtain.

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