Page 64 of Ravage

Avery: Are you okay?

Damon: You should be asleep.

I scoff quietly at the redirection, fingers quickly punching out a reply.

Avery: I'm not tired. And I asked you a question.

Damon: I'm fine. Go to sleep.

Avery: You go to sleep.

Laughing to myself, I can just imagine the look on his face. It's easier to be stubborn toward him in messages. But as the seconds tick by, no reply comes.

Shit—maybe I pushed it too far.

Just when I consider sending another message, it vibrates with a response.

Damon: Be careful, Avery. You're not as protected as you think.

I frown. What the hell does that mean?

Avery: It's a joke, Damon. Not a dick. Don't take it so hard.

After I hit send, panic surges through me. I've definitely overstepped the delicate line that the two of us hover constantly.

Before I can backtrack or pretend to fall asleep, there's a click, followed by the sound of beeping.

I gasp quietly as the door opens to my room, a tall shadowy figure appearing in the doorway.

"A dick? Really?" Damon asks, annoyed.

"Just let yourself in," I mumble sarcastically.

Damon steps forward, pushing the door closed behind him—not enough to make it latch, but closed enough that no one would be able to see in through the gap if they walked past.

"You're meant to be sleeping," he points out again.

"I know," I groan. "I can't sleep. And I'm paranoid about you standing out there alone."

He laughs, stepping closer. A patch of light from the barred window shines on his face and even though I'm in the dark against the wall, I have no doubt he can see me too.

"I think they are more frightened of me. The guards know to keep away."

"But not all the guards are on our side," I argue. "What if someone tries to take you out?"

"I hope they do," he says happily. "It would make for great entertainment."

Shaking my head, I lift my legs and cross them on the bed. "Do you at least have backup?"

Damon holds up the cell. "Another reason we have these. Grey is on my speed dial too. Stop stressing about shit and go to sleep."

"Can we just sit and talk for a little bit?" I ask quietly. It then hits me. It's not Damon that's lonely…

It's me.

For the past few months, I've grown accustomed to having these guys around. Even though nights were still spent alone, I realize now that after what happened downstairs, the silence is deafening. When I'm alone with my thoughts, monsters creep in, bringing images of electricity and ice water.

I'm afraid to be alone.

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