Chapter 15 My fist slams into the guard's nose, enjoying the sickening crunch that vibrates under my knuckles. Doubling over, the miserable sad sack of existence makes a choking sound, blood guzzling into his mouth as he fights for air. 'What the fuck do you mean she's in solitary confinement?' Grey mutters darkly. He's calm. Well, as calm as he can be. And by that, I mean the type of eerily quiet calm that radiates danger. The guard knows this, whimpering as he holds his hands up and waves the proverbial white flag. 'I don't know! Jonathon didn't say much. Just that she attacked Mr. Whittingham in his office and he was told to take her down to the holding cell.' The words are a jumbled mess. I'm surprised he isn't stuttering, though I suppose he's had time to get his story straight. After all, it was that guard-Connor, or whatever his name is-that warned Grey of the situation. That soon to be dead cunt Whittingham went on a power trip while under our noses. All we know so far is that Avery was escorted to his office after free time and when we noticed her absence at dinner, Grey made it his personal mission to track her down before I could say anything. My idea was to just decapitate everyone until we found her. His was to go to the guard they have in their pocket to ask for intel. Both effective methods if you ask me, but mine is a little more fun. Connor was already on his way to us when we located him. Word gets around fast. It sounds like the new hires can't keep their mouths shut. Since I'm unable to slice anyone's head off, I've decided the next best thing is to put them all in jaw wires to make sure they don't speak. After all, we need to set an example. These pathetic pieces of shit think it's a bragging right-to claim victory over their treatment of the patients. I'm well aware that this particular guard was not the one to take Aves to solitary confinement. But he seemed a little too happy at first, reciting the events when we cornered him. 'And where is Jonathon now?' Grey asks, his voice as dangerous and threatening as mine right now. 'I'd hurry up and answer while you can still speak,' I warn. He cowers again, physically trembling before us. If he pisses himself, I'm going to rub his damn face in it. I'm losing my patience very quickly, and it's apparent Grey isn't far behind. 'His shift finished at mealtime,' he offers weakly, hands shaking as he points to the exit door for good measure. 'Back tomorrow.' Grey and I share a quick look, silently seething at the discovery we can't go straight to the source. This is a waste of time. We're not going to get any more information from this motherfucker, so I put him out of his misery, delivering my promise. I hit his jaw with precision, another crack and crunch ringing out, followed by a throaty, pained groan. He spills to the floor clutching his jaw, eyes rolling back in agony while I step over his discarded figure. 'Christopher,' Grey murmurs, unfazed by the guard. He steps over him too, but a sudden high-pitched squeal indicates that Grey gave no fucks and squashed his hand as he passed. The two of us head directly to Smith's office. Everyone is locked away in their rooms, the last of the shower groups just returning from the bathrooms. I don't bother to voice the question to Grey as to whether or not Smith is still on the premises, the answer presenting to me when we reach his door. It's open, revealing the man inside. He's hunched over his desk, reading something, and when our footsteps announce our presence, he looks up with a devastated face. 'You heard,' is all he says, eyes darting between us. 'What the fuck happened?' Grey asks sternly, kicking over the trash can by the desk. Smith looks at me, slouching back before focusing on my hallway companion. 'I'm not entirely sure. Arthur ordered Avery to be taken to solitary confinement, and promptly left Lilydale. I assume there was an altercation of sorts. She had blood on her face.' 'Wait, you saw her?' I snap. 'And you didn't do anything?' Grey nods furiously at my words. 'I swear Christopher, I'm this close to losing my shit with you.' Unlike the guard that turned into a fumbling mess, Smith just shrugs with a frown. 'I couldn't,' he starts, attempting to sound apologetic. 'It happened very quickly and by the time I investigated, she was already locked up and Arthur was gone.' 'Fix it,' Grey orders, emphasizing each word. 'Before I send you on a first class express ticket to the morgue.' 'And what would you have me do?' Smith argues back. 'Break down the damn door myself? Arthur has both key cards and he's not here.' I walk over to the desk, slamming both hands down as I force the psychiatrist to look at me. 'Figure out a solution,' I advise him. 'Don't be fucking stupid. There would have to be another way to get in. You expect us to believe that only two particular cards are able to unlock it?' Smith's eyes widen slightly before peering over my shoulder to Grey. 'I can't,' he answers, not directly addressing me. And it pisses me off. Swiftly moving around the desk, I grab him by the collar, yanking him from the chair. His feet dangle off the ground slightly as I hold him by the scruff of his suit. 'You can and you will.' Grey mutters a curse, dragging my attention away from the man in my fist. 'What?' I snap at him. His cell is out, resting in his palm. 'It's not ringing.' 'Lack of service,' I reply, remembering I experienced the same thing last time I was in there. 'If she moves around, she might be able to find a small bit of reception.' Grey nods. 'Take us down there,' he orders Smith sternly. Dropping the man, he lands on his feet, huffing quietly as he adjusts his lapels. 'Fine,' he concedes, snatching his staff card from the desk. 'But don't touch me again, Theo.' 'I'll break your fingers one by one,' I promise, the two of us following as he takes off into the hallway. Both Grey and I know the path well, only pausing to let Smith open the doors to the dark stairwell. When we finish descending, Grey shoves Smith out of the way, tapping softly on the door. 'Little killer?' '... Grey?' I position myself next to him, listening as I hear Avery shuffle around inside. Her muffled voice becomes clearer when she's by the door, a hint of relief in her tone. 'Grey?' she says again. 'Is that really you?' 'It's me,' he confirms. 'And Theo.' Even through the metal door, I hear her sharp intake of breath at the news. A rare smile, only reserved for her, falls onto my face. 'Are you okay, Aves?' 'Yes,' she murmurs, but there's an air of uncertainty. I don't voice my concern. Solitary confinement is a fucked-up place to be-we already know that. From the start, I knew she'd never be able to deal with it as well as I can-or Grey. But sending her into a panic and being flustered is not going to help any of us. Grey's façade cracks a little, his guard finally lowering. His eyebrows furrow together, his hand resting on the door as if he can feel her through the metal. 'We're not going anywhere,' he says confidently. 'One of us will stay here the entire night.' 'You don't have to do that,' she murmurs sadly. 'You'll get caught.' 'She's right-' Smith cuts in but I hastily snap my head toward him. 'Shut. The. Fuck. Up.' Avery clears her throat, surprised. 'Is that Dr. Smith?' 'Unfortunately,' I confirm to her, still locking eyes with the psychiatrist. 'He won't be staying though.' Grey squats down, running his finger along the gap at the bottom of the door. 'What happened, little killer?' I wait for some kind of recall, but when Aves starts cackling on the other side, Grey and I share a look. It's a chilling laugh, one full of sarcasm and disbelief. Still, I can't stop the smirk that appears on my face and neither can Grey. 'Whitface tried to bribe me,' she finally reveals. 'My freedom from Lilydale in exchange for an annulment.' 'What?' Grey growls, turning to face Smith. 'Did you know about this?' 'Of course I didn't,' he huffs. Avery, obviously listening, hums thoughtfully. 'It's Whitface and Alexander coded. Be nice to Dr. Smith.' I sneer at the psychiatrist, wanting nothing more than to cave his skull in. 'No.' Grey sits on the ground, making himself comfortable. Pressing his back against the metal door, he rests his hands on his curled-up knees. 'You didn't sign it,' he answers matter-of-factly. 'Of course not,' Aves replies, clearly holding in a laugh again. 'But I did stab him through the hand with the pen.' All of our eyebrows forget gravity exists. A small chuckle breaks free from me, while Grey stares ahead, impressed. 'Well, that explains the blood,' Smith murmurs to himself. 'Why are you still here?' I snap at him. 'Beat it.' Smith takes a step toward the door, and for a moment, I can't help but get excited that perhaps we're about to square-off. But instead, he raises his voice so Avery can hear. 'Are you okay, Avery? You'll be in there overnight. You weren't harmed, were you?' Fine. He can live-for now, reluctantly. But I narrow my eyes at him, a warning not to tempt me. There's no doubt about it that he cares about our girl, but he's far from innocent and kind. It was his delusions that caused Avery to be arrested in the first place. The ripple effect trickled down until she was fully on Damon's father's radar. Then, the more he's involved himself with the situation, the more harm he's brought her. He should have left the protection detail to us. We can handle it. While he may have his own reasons for wanting to protect her-call it good doctorhood or whatever-he has no idea how to deal with this. And I'm getting a little fed up with him being in our faces. Grey seems to share the same sentiments. He stays quiet though, waiting for Avery to answer the question. 'No,' she says, and we all breathe a sigh of relief. 'Other than being a little banged up from the guard dragging me here.' 'We'll deal with him,' I comment, Grey giving a firm nod of agreement. Standing, Grey steps toward Smith, cracking his neck as he moves. 'We're staying down here. Go see if you can figure out a way to get this door open.' Much to my annoyance, Smith nods, listening to Grey. Asshole. After he leaves, the two of us adjust our positions, backs pressed against the door as we stand guard for the night. Avery fills us in on a little more detail, specifically Whittingham's words and how she's using the torch on her cell to see around the dark room. To my astonishment, we're not interrupted the entire night. I suspect Smith has redirected the guards in Whittingham's absence, ensuring we're not disturbed. There's no fooling anyone though. We can all agree that it's for the guards' benefits-not ours. This cold floor will be their last resting place if they dare step foot down here. Avery manages to catch some sleep, but Grey and I stay awake the whole night, listening to the faint, soft sounds of her deep breathing. And when morning comes, we've mapped out a plan, promising Avery that she'll be out of that cold box really soon. If that means slaughtering every person in this place, then so be it.