Page 80 of Ravage

My eyebrows furrow as I reach my hand out, placing it against the cold, metal door. I hate that I can't do anything for him. If I was kept away from Avery, I'd end up breaking every bone in my hands trying to claw this door open. But on the flipside, Theo knows he can trust us. We'll keep her safe—and at the very least, we know he's somewhat safe too.

The thing about solitary confinement is they barely come down to check on you. That's part of the torture—only bringing the occasional food, leaving the patients in literal darkness.And given Theo's aggressive nature toward guards and staff members, no one is keen to try to go inside with him. That would be the equivalent of getting in a cage with a hungry, blood-thirsty lion.

"If you get enough signal, send her a message," I say, stepping back from the door. "I don't know what the charge is like on the cells, but hopefully it lasts a few days."

"It's currently at fifty-eight percent," he replies. "I'll move around and find a spot. The pipes probably don't help with the signal. But when you see her, tell Avery I love her."

I knock on the door twice with my knuckles. "Will do, asshole."

"Thanks, fuckwit."

Chapter 28

Damon

"God-fucking-dammit!" I snap, irritable at myself.

My control slipped—again. I've rarely lost it at all the past few years, and now, it's happening more frequently. And there's one common denominator in all of it.

Avery.

Just hearing her say my name like that is more intoxicating than the expensive bottle of whiskey that's now forgotten about on the floor. I don't even remember placing it down. One minute I was fine, then the next it's as if my invisible cord snapped. My mouth was on hers, breathing her in like my life depended on it.

When I look up, I notice her watching me closely, forehead wrinkled with tension. I can see the worry in her eyes—the panic and fear that I regret what just happened.

I don't.

It just happened so suddenly. I'm mad at myself for losing control.

Mad at myself for hating how much I place my own value in her.

Mad for hating the way she makes me believe I'm not as bad of a monster as I think I am.

I hate that she sees good in me when I know there's none. But furious that sometimes I let myself indulge in that thought, believing it briefly.

Everything is so different in her eyes. She's too trusting, too quick to search for good. That's what's landed her in trouble before.

I don't want her to be so complacent.She needs to hate me.

I need her to hate me.

It would all be much easier.

But at the same time, the thought of her hating me makes it feel like my body is being torn apart from the inside out.

I've grown to like how she looks at me. While everyone watches me with fear, she gazes at me like the sun shines out of my fucking asshole. And I know that's how she feels… because that's how she looks at Grey too.

Despite everything that has happened in Lilydale, she always smiles at me. But she should hate me. The bad things that happen to her are because of me. And now because of my actions, she'll never leave Lilydale. By giving away that two percent, I've signed everyone's death warrants.

Arthur wants people to believe they leave this place once they arerehabilitated.But the truth is most people vanish downstairs. The rare exception when people do leave is because Arthur entices them with presents—blackmail in a pretty bow. He gets them on his side, doing a favor for their release—but there's always a catch. Even on the outside, you're never free of this place. You're still under his control, tied to him for life.

The ultimate goal was to get Lilydale shut down. If we overwhelmed the system, the courts would have no choice but to reevaluate everyone's sentences. One person trying to leave—easy for the federal prison system to handle. But trying to find spots for one hundred patients? Impossible.

By losing the contract, we would have forced Lilydale's financial hand. But it didn't dawn on me that signing away that two percent would be a mistake. It saved Avery initially—but at what cost?

I've just sentenced her to a lifetime of pain and suffering here. If that court order succeeds, there's enough funds in the trust to sustain the facility for the foreseeable future. They could easily replace the equipment, securing the continuance of the contract.

We will be overpowered, and eventually, it will just be a matter of time before they resume their activities. We can protect everyone, but not indefinitely. They will corner us somehow, starting with low-risk patients. Our focus will shift, and they will attack.

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