Page 36 of Echoes

"I know you do."

My chest aches, but deep down, there's that niggling feeling. I'm not sure if it's hope or delusion, but surely, he still loves me too.

"Do you love Damon?" I ask suddenly, throwing him off-guard.

"What?"

"In any way, shape or form."

He pauses, unsure where this is going. "Of course I do. He's like a brother to me."

I nod, our foreheads grazing against each other. "Say for argument's sake, you love me too. We're all messed up here, right? We're the unhinged… the lost souls. But despite all that, you love more than one person. Because we're not bad people. Love isn't an emotion that bad people can process. We've been fucked over. Don't we deserve love?"

I'm rambling, already forgetting my main point. I think I'm trying to make it clear that I'm so beyond fucked up that I don't know how to love properly. Years and years of neglect in a loveless life have left me craving it. It makes sense I'm trying to overcompensate now—like how men with tiny dicks buy really expensive, massive cars.

"You deserve love, Avery," he answers. "Which is why I allowed him to live."

"But I want you too," I breathe out, grabbing his face in my hands. "You might not be mine, but I'm still yours."

Grey pushes off from the bed quickly, leaving me to scramble up.

"I have to go," he says, heading to the door. "If Arthur gives you any more trouble, let Damon know."

"Wait—"

It's too late. He's already gone, the door locking shut behind him. I run over, tugging on it with all my strength, but nothing happens.

I was so close. I know it in my soul.

The invisible string tightened again for the briefest moment, and I'm positive he felt it too.

I'm going to chase you, Grey. I'm not letting you go that easily.

Chapter 13

Damon

"Well?" I ask, looking up as Grey enters my room. "How did it go?"

I know where he's been. He didn't ask for permission—though even if he had and I said no, I know he still would have done it anyway.

"Arthur was sniffing around," he grunts.

My eyes narrow at his worked-up physique. She's gotten to him—again.

"Don't make me regret this," I warn him, folding my arms. "I told you it was best not to be involved directly."

Grey straightens up, looking at me with a blank expression. "It's under control."

"Is it?" I ask, amused. "Because every time you speak to her, you're a fucking mess."

Anger flashes across his face but you know what they say—when you find where it hurts, you keep pushing.

I lift an eyebrow, noticing his silence. "I told her that she would have no contact with you. Still, I let you both speak privately because I knew it was what you wanted. I trusted thatyou would remain in control. However, I'm starting to see I've made a mistake."

He shakes his head. "Right now, she is a direct link to Arthur. As a pivotal member ofCirque des Morts, I need to be able to interact with everyone."

I laugh. "Grey, be real for a second. This has nothing to do with the society. You just don't wantmeto be Avery's point of contact."

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