Page 23 of Ravage

She nods as we head into the Westwood corridor. "He didn't do this," she mutters quietly. "It was Elsher and Whittingham."

I clench my jaw. "I know, Avery. And believe me, they will all pay for it."

When we reach my room, I'm surprised to find it empty. The thought worries me a little, but I remind myself that Grey and Ashwood can handle themselves. Besides, we probably dealt with the majority of the danger. I have no doubt that there's more guards lurking around downstairs, but Grey is stealthy. He would have seen them coming long before they found him.

"Sit," I order Avery, motioning to the bed.

She sits on the edge of the mattress as I open my drawers, pulling out some snacks. When I turn around to hold it out for her, she stares at the candy, not reaching for it.

"Eat something," I near-snap. "Please."

Her eyes shoot up to mine in surprise at my unusual begging. "Please?" she repeats.

I roll my eyes. "Don't make this into a big deal. Just take the food."

Slowly, she reaches for the chocolate, resting it in her lap.

Removing the mask from the top of my head, I set it down on the bed next to her, running my hand through my hair. Avery glances at the mask before looking up at me, an eerie numbed expression on her face.

"How long was I down there for?" she asks.

"Seventeen hours," I reply, trying to read her body language. "Why?"

She looks away, alarm bells ringing in my head at her sudden change of behavior. "Do you know of a woman here? Blonde hair, green eyes?"

I raise an eyebrow. "Capello?"

"No, not Vivian," she murmurs quietly. "Another woman—someone known to Grey."

Both eyebrows raise now as the pieces start to fall into place. "We know everyone here, Avery. What exactly are you trying to ask?"

Avery falls quiet, head dropping forward. "Was he with anyone while I was gone?"

"No," I answer sharply. "Unless you count Christopher."

She gazes up, eyes desperately searching for hope. "No beautiful women in the library?"

Ahh. Those motherfuckers. I'm not surprised they brought that up. I don't know how but it's obvious something was used to torture Avery.

"She's dead, Avery."

I don't bother to sugar-coat it. Not that it needs to be. I watch as her expression changes rapidly—sadness, surprise, relief… then disgust at her own solace.

"How do you know?" she asks hesitantly.

"Because I can only assume that whoever you saw was Leah. She's the only other person Grey has ever shown interest in. And she's been dead for six months."

Chapter 9

Avery

Dead.

It was all just a joke to them—exactly like the rational part of my brain had tried to argue.

Still, it had hurt. I can't be mad at something that happened before I even came to Lilydale. But the thought of Grey loving someone else instead of me was a torture Dr. West knew I couldn't fight.

It's sickening, beyond anything I thought they were capable of. I knew they were monsters, but to exploit our biggest weaknesses—feeding into our fears and traumas. What kind of sociopath does that?

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