Echoes (Dance With My Demons, #2)

by Steph Macca

Theo did kill Sam. As he steps forward with the cuffs, I move towards Theo before I can stop myself, wanting to protect him.

As I stare at my own reflection, mesmerized by my pathetic appearance, I can't help but wonder what my viewers think of me too. I feel like a circus

animal, chained and put out for show. Come one, come all. Hear the echoes of my hauntings.

"I'm serious, Deadman. Five minutes and I'm out of here. I don't care. I'll paint the hallways red and string Christmas lights up made of intestines."

"I'm aware of your… relationship." It's directed at me, a murderous glint in his eye. Oh, please try me. Please, please… push me over the edge. I'm begging you.

Out of sight, out of mind they say. But that's just bullshit. Now that I know she's in the same building as me again, the tether between us pulls. And I'm going to take that tether and wrap it around her soft body—whether that's to fuck her or kill her, I don't know yet.

He laughs quietly, the sound sending a chill through my bones. "Since what, Avery? Since I framed you for murder?"

If anyone lays a single finger on her, bruising her perfect skin, I'll soak them in gasoline and make a bonfire.

The sound of our skin hitting together echoes around the library, Avery's body sliding further and further up the carpet. My hand whips out and grabs hold of the bookshelf, while my other grips on to her.

"You're not going to avoid me any longer, Avery. I don't care the reason why. Whatever it is, I promise that I'm the bigger threat."

"At present, we have reason to believe that those two have been aptly sorted. However, it is our understanding that Arthur is attempting to gain leverage from the patients. We believe that he has asked Avery to report back to him on inside information."

"It sounds like he's purposely setting me up for failure," I reply bluntly. "So that either way, he can get rid of me."

Damon sits down in his chair, tapping his chin. "I don't think you're the end goal. No—Arthur has something else up his sleeve. You're just collateral damage."

"Grey," I murmur softly. "You mean everything to me. Since day one, you saw something in me. It was the first time in my

life that someone really cared enough to fight for me. And that means so much to me.

With Theo… it was t...

"You both treated me like I meant something. I'm not used to that. And with us, you and me, it's—was—so special. But I didn't know it was just meant to be us. This is all new to me. And I'm learning to survive here. I fucked up, I know I did. And I can't forgive myself for hurting y...

"I'm sorry," I say sincerely. "I know what we had is over. But I just want you to know that I'm not going to tell Whittingham anything. And I'll do what Damon needs if it's what you want. You can ignore me if that's what you need. Now...

It seems fitting anyway, since she already has my heart. She might as well take my body and soul

too. At least then I'd find some type of peace. Sure, it would probably be hell too, but if she sends me there, I would have a nice family reunion no doubt.

And worst of all—I know she's right. We were never officially together. But despite that, I thought it was obvious she was mine. I told her that.

When Avery's involved, I want everything. Life. Death. Torture. Pleasure. Pain. Every-fucking-thing she can offer me.

"Say for argument's sake, you love me too. We're all messed up here, right? We're the unhinged… the lost souls. But despite all that, you love more than one person. Because we're not bad people. Love isn't an emotion that bad

people can process. We've been fucked over. Don't we deserve love?"

"You deserve love, Avery," he answers. "Which is why I allowed him to live."

"But I want you too," I breathe out, grabbing his face in my

hands. "You might not be mine, but I'm...

"Who do you think killed Hallman, little killer? He didn't take his own life. No—I ended it. I ended that sad, pathetic excuse of a man because he touched you. He tried to hurt what's mine."

I can't help but smile at him. Perhaps I'm insane after all. Normal people get confessions of love. I get confessions of murder.

Pressing the blade into my skin, a burning pain crashes through me. It's almost exactly like how it was with Theo—a bearable pain, extinguishing the emotional turmoil that haunts me. And like the tattoo… this means something.

Grey runs his fingers over my skin, mixing the red together. Leaning back, he smiles down at his work of art. Curiosity gets the better of me, and I hunch forward, looking down to see. MINE.

"You're fucking mine, Avery," he growls into my mouth. "This lifetime and the next one too."

"This is what you do to me," I breathe out, growling as her finger presses into my flesh harder. "You tear me apart from the inside out in the best fucking ways possible. You make me kill for you, you make me want to die for you. I'll burn this whole place down to ashes and paint you with them like the muse you are."

A tear slips down her cheek, but the faint smile on her face indicates that it's not pain causing it. "I love you so much," she whispers.

"I'm yours," I reply. "And you're mine too." He nods, resting his forehead against mine. "When you go to heaven one day, I'll drag you back down to hell to join me. Because I'm never leaving you, Avery."

"Oh, that's the part you are focusing on," I scold playfully. "Here's the finger of your enemy… it's in a rose though." "I'm nothing if not unique," he smiles.

"I'm serious, Avery. Imagine how I felt when I told you that

you wouldn't avoid me any longer, just to have you disappear again." "That was outside of my control," I whisper sadly. "It's been killing me not being able to see you lately. I was so worried that you'd hate me."

guess not. But, put yourself in my shoes. My father abused me. He had his friends rape me, he used me like currency. I have scars all over my body, inside and out because of

him. He did the same thing… he forced my mother to leave this place, making her take her own life. Did he deserve it?"

"Yes," I growl back. "He deserved to fucking die." She nods. "So I'm ...

"Things got really bad after my fifteenth birthday. He stabbed me, and it was shortly after that when I was raped multiple times. It was so bad."

"When the doctors at the hospital said I'd never be able to have children because

of the injuries, it ruined all my plans for the future. They took the only hope I had. So, I tried to buy a gun from this little store in town. I was going to wait until my father was too drunk to notice his surroundings and pull the trigger."

Lilydale might be a fucking prison full of unhinged psychopaths, but we all have one thing in common—trauma. And bonding over trauma is a natural instinct for most. Not

me though—there's no trauma, only regret. I regret not making them suffer more.

A person shouldn't know what brain matter feels like smashed under your knees. A person shouldn't have to call their parents on vacation to tell them that their daughter is dead—her lilac walls splattered in blood.

He grins at me, lowering his voice. "What's wrong, little killer? Scared of the two big bad men?"

"I have read all the files, Ms. White—yours included. Admitted here due to murder charges pertaining to your father. Your mother committed suicide when you were a teenager. You've suffered

several different types of abuse and have been formally diagnosed with post-traumatic stress disorder and borderline personality disorder. However, despite taking up a place in this facility, which as you pointed out serves as a rehabilitation center, you have no desire to actually change."