Page 14 of Exile
"I know," Avery whispers back, shifting closer to me. Finally surrendering, she places the PCA button on the mattress next to me, giving me unspoken control back. We've been married less than twenty-four hours and she already knows me better than most. The thought of me being in pain is hurting her, but she understands what I'm asking of her—thecontrolI'm giving her. And now, she's giving me control back too.
"You and Grey need to take over in my absence," I tell her firmly. "Check on everyone. I have no idea who is injured. We need to make sure Arthur doesn't try anything while I'm stuck in here. Byrone will help too. Tell Grey to bring on Louis and Mark. He knows who they are and what to do."
Avery nods, even though it probably makes little sense to her. Silence passes between us, saying everything neither of us can speak out loud.
The idea of being away from her is far more painful than being shot. But I trust Grey, and Theo by extension. We didn't come this far to give up now and let those bastards win.
Shifting over, I tap the mattress beside me with my hand, gesturing for her to lay with me. I half expect some lectureagain, but it doesn't come. Avery just stands, carefully climbing back up onto the bed, and tucking herself into my side. There, we stay wrapped up in each other's arms, until the time we both dread comes, and Avery is taken away from me back to Lilydale.
Chapter 6
Avery
When I arrive back at Lilydale, in handcuffs of course, it's breakfast time. Except unlike the usual buzzing of patients in the hall, it's relevantlydead.
Staff I don't recognize in black coats walk past me, carrying trays of food toward the dorms. Apparently, by the looks of it, we're in a classic Whittingham timeout—though I don't think it's one of thepunishmentswe all detest. This is nothing more than a show of control, to calm the chaos and keep us silent.
A few detectives wander the halls, chatting among themselves, and barely even glance at me. They do, however, acknowledge their colleagues on either side of my frame, and when we pass Whitface's office, I dare a peek while they are distracted. To my surprise, it's empty with not a single soul in sight. Well, Whittingham doesn't have one but he's not there either.
Nausea rises into my throat when we stop at the door that leads to the patient side of the facility. It means I need to passthathallway again. Captain Asshole bangs on the doortwice, and a few seconds later, there's a beep on the other side before it swings open.
Relief floods through me at the familiar sight of Dr. Smith, who takes a couple of seconds to scan over and check my physical condition before gesturing for me to follow him.
"I've got her from here. Thank you."
The asshole in blue undoes my cuffs, unnecessarily shoving me toward Dr. Smith before leaving as if the building is on fire and he needs to evacuate. Perhaps he's terrified he'll catch thecrazinessif he lingers too long. If there was a fire in the building, I know without a doubt that he'd leave me inside.
"How are you feeling, Avery?" Dr. Smith asks as we start to walk to his office, but I can't answer him. My eyes immediately look down the corridor, inspecting it for the evidence from yesterday.
Even though I know Damon is alright and very much alive, it still terrifies me to spot the warzone where everything went to shit. Thankfully, it's been somewhat cleaned but I can still see remnants on the floor and walls. Much like other sections of Lilydale, blood is a bitch to get out of everything.
I do my best to avoid looking directly at the place where Damon had laid, letting Dr. Smith guide me into his office.
He closes the door behind me and I drop into the chair across from his desk with a shaky breath. It's been a whirlwind twenty-four hours, and without Damon's presence tosteal my focus, my mind is suddenly buzzing with flashbacks, questions, and a whole lot of anxiety.
"Here," Dr. Smith says, handing me a mug. "It should still be hot. I made it when I got word that you were on route back to Lilydale."
The smell of fresh coffee fills my nostrils, and I don't hesitate to take the mug from him. "Thank you."
Sitting across from me, he waits until I've taken a few sips before re-asking his question. This time, I finally have the ability to reply, knowing he's probably just as nervous to know what's happening outside these four walls.
"Damon is okay," I tell him. "Awake and recovering. I'm fine too."
Dr. Smith nods, relieved. "Good. Did Alexander turn up at the hospital?"
My eyes widen slightly at the question. "How did you know?"
"He made a point ofannouncinghis intention to do so."
Well, that checks out. Though, I have no idea why he would tell Dr. Smith that. Wasn't he fired?
As if sensing my own question, he smiles softly. As I study his features, I realize he has dark bags under his eyes, meaning he's had as little sleep as I've had. "My termination was temporarily rescinded pending the authorities' investigation into yesterday's events. However, I have been locked out of certain staff privileges."
"I see. Where are Grey and Theo?" I quickly shoot back, not overly interested in going into excessive detail about his employment now that I have an answer. "Are they okay?"
His eyebrows furrowing together set off alarm bells. It looks like he's gone stiff in his chair, concerned etched across his face.
"Grey is currently in solitary confinement," he answers slowly. "Only until later today. We had a bit of a…situation."
