Page 60 of Ravage

"Not hard to do," I mutter. "Did you know him on the outside?"

Damon smiles. "No. But Arthur doesn't treat the hospitality staff well—or any staff to be honest. There's a few that worship him, but the rest just deal with it for the money. By comparison, we're the better enemies to have in your corner."

"Do the staff know about your connection to the place?" I ask hesitantly.

He shrugs. "Probably. I know Arthur likes to gloat from time to time. Otherwise, the staff just recognize the hold I have and fall into line. When you earn the respect, natural born followers will just obey."

I nod, glancing around at the empty hall. My eyes stop on the tables, a question popping to mind.

"I once asked Grey about the number system," I start. "He said I'd find out if I needed to know."

Damon crosses his arms coolly. "And this is your way of asking if it's time?"

"It can't be as big of a secret as the other things you've told me," I muse. "I'm just curious. It's been bugging me since day one."

He laughs, running a hand through his hair. I don't know why but I like seeing this side of him—it's carefree, almostnormal. When he's in these moods, he's a whole different person—like he can be himself, not the leader and protector of this hellhole. I've come to realize that much of what you see with him is a shield.

"The number system is our own personal tally. We group people by the risk we think they are to Lilydale. Group one is the most critical—likely on Arthur's hit list. Group five is the people we are least concerned about—patients like Ashwood. We know they won't be targeted."

"Oh," I mutter, lost for words. "That's why I moved up to group one."

Damon nods. "We have people stationed around the exits. Groups leave based on the system and time of day so we can monitor them—make sure they reach their next destination safely."

"I was group three when I arrived," I point out. "The middle."

"We needed time to collect more information. The board picks patients from the court system on who they think would fit in here for their benefit. But that's all on paper. Once a patient is inside, seeing the professionals, and having their behavior monitored, we then get a sense of whether they become of interest for the experiments."

Frowning, I wrap my arms around my frame protectively. "What made me stand out?"

He looks down at me, stepping closer. "It could be that you were just a really interesting individual. When you arrived, you were naturally submissive, almost willing to do what they asked—except you put up a fight too."

"Or?"

"Or maybe you were just collateral damage," he murmurs softly. "Their way of trying to get back at us. Arthur knew how important you were to us, so he turned his attention to you."

I think back to all the punishments. The times I was made to spend in his office sorting out paperwork that never needed to be sorted, or cleaning bathrooms with dangerous chemicals. "He wanted to distract you, make you angry," I point out. "But he was wrong—I wasn't important to you then."

"You were, Avery. It's just unfortunate that they recognized it before I did."

My heart pounds in my chest. Grey's text message has been playing on my mind since yesterday. It caught me off guard at first. I re-read it at least a dozen times to make sure I was understanding it correctly. It felt like he was giving me his blessing, but that couldn't be the case. I overanalyzed the message to search for hidden meanings and alternate interpretations, but I just ended up at the same conclusion.

You can do whatever you like with Damon.

The man himself seems to be acting strange—more approachable, patient… softer. The whole situation is confusing, and now his words are intensifying that skepticism.

"I'm important to you?" I ask quietly.

"Of course you are," he answers, grabbing a strand of my black hair and playing with it between his fingers. "You're also an important member of the society."

I nod, unsure of what else to say. Never in a million years did I expect to end up here.

Shifting on my feet, my head drops as I finally lose my cool. I'm scared to look him in the eye in case he sees everything that I want to hide.

I don't know how I feel about him—about us. We've been through so much, and the only thing I am sure of is that Idon'thate him like I tried to convince myself. But I don't know where to go from here.

"Come on," Damon says when I don't reply out loud, placing the strand carefully over my collarbone. "Let's go find the others."

"You did good, little killer," Grey murmurs, leaning down to my ear.

---