Page 63 of Ravage

"Just because we're in hell, Avery, doesn't mean we aren't in charge. It's all an illusion. But illusions shatter. Besides, this is my own hell—you shouldn't have to suffer in here."

"I deserve it though," I murmur, meaning every single word. "But to be honest, being in here is the most freedom I have ever felt. It's fucked up, isn't it? I earned my place here but it also saved me."

Damon frowns. "No one deserves to be here. We're the products of a broken system that's controlled by wealth."

"That's what I mean though. Maybe I was always meant to end up here—not as a punishment, but as a way to find my place."

"I disagree."

Reaching over, I grab the glass of whiskey from his hand, taking a sip. "That's foul," I cough, passing it back. "But look how far we've all come. The whole reason we ended up in here is because of shit things that happened to us. In the outside world, that broke us. But in here, we've overcome it. There's no judgment, no need to pretend."

It's clear by the look on his face that he still doesn't agree with me, but he just nods once, staying quiet.

Humming to myself, I turn my attention back to Theo and Grey, noting that their discussions have finally stopped. Both of them are looking over at us, and realizing it's safe to go back to the table since the pineapple discussion has stopped, I grab a piece of pizza and sit back down between them.

"Pineapple?" I offer sweetly to Theo.

He looks at it in disgust. "Don't you start."

"Or what?" I ask with a smile.

The look of resentment for the pizza vanishes, replaced by a challenging stare. "Do you really want to find out?"

I shrug, acting unfazed, even though my heart is starting to pick up pace. "I've eaten a fair bit of pineapple."

Grey cackles loudly, putting his hand on my thigh. "Okay, better alternative. We see if Avery tastes better with pineapple."

"I doubt she can get any sweeter," Theo replies. "But I'm willing to give it a go. How about free time tomorrow?"

My thighs snap together, Grey's fingers getting caught in between them. He squeezes my leg tightly, leaning down to my ear.

"I hope that's all you can think about between now and then."

Raising an eyebrow, I smile at him. "I hope you do as well."

I'm too wired after the meeting to sleep. Even though it's nearly midnight, I'm unable to get my mind to stop spinning.

It's a spider web of thoughts, all coming back to a central point. I don't know how to make it stop.

On one side of the web, my body is spiraling, thinking about Theo and Grey tomorrow. On the other, I get lost in the fear that Whittingham is going to make a move at any second.

My mind flashes with images of Dr. West, still in disbelief that he's dead. It makes me wonder if his sidekick, Dr. Cromwell, is still around. Will they replace him?

And then there's Damon. His whole life is tangled around Lilydale, a constant reminder of his mother. It's a sick andtwisted level of torture that far outperforms anything I've been subjected to.

Of course, the moment I let myself fall down that rabbit hole of thoughts, another question arises—what is happening between us?

He's outside at the moment, standing guard. I have no idea where they watch from or whether the guards know. It's dark and cold, and the idea of standing in a deserted corridor for seven hours sounds like torture.

I wonder if he's lonely…

Pulling out my new cell from under my thin pillow, I flick open the message screen. It's been a while since I sent a text, but it's nice knowing I can again. It brings me a sense of security, a connection to life outside of this shoebox.

Avery: Are you still out there?

Damon: Yes. Why?

Sitting up, I swing my legs over the side of the bed, foot tapping on the floor.

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