Chapter 5 'You better start talking,' I growl quietly at Christopher, taking in his frazzled expression. Ha-some psychiatrist he is. Aren't they supposed to be calm and composed in an emergency? I guess, bloodied knuckles aside, maybe I could have a career as a doctor. Likes blood-check. Remains somewhat calm in an emergency-check. Able to remove limbs-double check. At least he had the foresight to hold the Westwood main door open with a stack of books before the power went out. But then again, the real question is, 'How did you get into the male dorms without power?' He pauses in front of the main hall doors, glancing over at me. 'I triggered the emergency switch.' 'Right,' I drawl out slowly. 'And why is this not an option for our rooms?' Christopher raises an eyebrow, silently answering the question. 'Of course. There's no emergency exit for the prison cells,' I mutter, unsurprised. A few detectives come round the corner from the staff room corridor, pausing as they spot us. The good doctor raises his hand casually, gesturing toward me. 'This patient is with me.' Somehow, they buy his bullshit excuse, continuing on their merry way, but not before sneaking a few disapproving glances at my hands. They don't stop to ask questions, and when they are out of earshot, I narrow my eyes at Christopher. 'Weren't you fired?' 'Temporarily on hold,' he responds dryly. 'Right. Next question: Where are they?' I ask sternly, getting straight to the point. I need to know where those assholes are so I can get them to the point as well-the sharp pointed end of my trusty shiv, that is. Rounding on me with lightning speed, Christopher draws to full height. 'Listen to me, Grey. This is serious. You can't go barreling into Arthur's office and start murdering him and Alexander. Not only will the cops shoot you before you lay a hand on them, but you'll implicate the rest of us too. The place is swarming with first responders.' My eyebrow twitches at the use of us, but I only say, 'I'm pretty quick, you know.' An exhausted look crosses his face as his sudden burst of energy depletes. 'Damon has been taken to hospital. Avery too.' 'Are they okay?' I ask quickly, momentarily putting a pause in my plans to rip Arthur and Alexander apart limb from limb and count all their organs by hand. His face scrunches up with devastation, and for a brief second, true colors begin to reveal themselves. He cares about his cousin-that's an interesting development. But I shouldn't be shocked really. After all, he's a pain in our ass but he's an enemy of Arthur's, which means he's an ally of ours. The thought is almost laughable, but at this point, we need all the help we can get. 'I don't know,' he mutters quietly. 'Damon's in pretty bad shape. Avery is fine but I told the paramedics she needed to be properly assessed off the premises by hospital staff.' 'Smart man.' Christopher looks taken aback by the mild compliment. Hopefully he latches onto it in his mind because I doubt there will be more where that came from. Getting Avery away from this mess is both a blessing and a necessity. While Alexander and Arthur are here, dealing with the fallout, she's safe. And with Damon. It's a slight comfort knowing he's getting proper medical attention but... not everyone can be saved. I can't think like that though. It's Damon-you can't kill evil that easily. Alexander has proved that theory and Damon is twice the man-and force of nature-that he'll ever be. They share the same blood. We're all cut from the same cloth-our modus operandi is just different. 'I was in the corridor being questioned by detectives when the paramedics took him. His condition isn't good, Grey. I think you need to be prepared.' My face remains expressionless as I nod. 'He'll be fine,' I say blankly. 'Plus he has Avery with him.' 'I understand that. But she's not a doctor-' 'No, but she's his everything, Christopher. She's his reason to live, to fight. Just like she's mine. He has to be okay. There's no other option here.' More officers walk past and he motions toward the library with a dip of his head, indicating privacy. Slipping through the doors, it's empty and I try not to let sweet memories drown me. I might be relieved that Avery is away from this damn forsaken place, but she's also away from me. I can't protect her from here. And the only two people in this world that can keep me calm are not with me. It's a double-edged sword. 'Alexander will go after her,' Christopher finally murmurs with a sigh, leaning his palms on the table's edge. 'This isn't over.' 'All the more reason to let me end his miserable existence now,' I muse. 'I know Damon made me promise that he could do it, but I think under the circumstances, he'll forgive me.' Everything is still shrouded in darkness. Surely, Arthur will have to relent and put the power back on soon. The officers will be getting suspicious, but not only that, Dorothea's body is probably thawing out downstairs. She already resembled the living dead in her alive state, so I wouldn't rule out the possibility that she comes back for revenge on the old cunt. What a plot twist that would be. Christopher paces away from the table, leaning against the nearest bookshelf as his leg bounces nervously. 'We need to anticipate their next move. And we should do it now, while authorities are on site. It will give us time to prepare.' 'How the hell do we prepare when we can't communicate with each other? They took our cells and I doubt Byrone and Jillian have access to their systems without the power being on.' He nods. 'I'll work on getting the power restored. From what I've overheard, they are currently using the morgue to house the deceased until the coroners are able to transport everyone. It's running on a separate back-up generator.' Gotta keep those bodies frozen. 'How many dead?' I ask. 'At least half a dozen-mostly guards.' 'Mostly?' I ask cautiously, not enjoying the turn this conversation has taken. Christopher purses his lips into a tight smile, as if the simple action might keep me from losing my shit. That's how I know it's bad-we've lost someone. 'Leighton Pierce. I believe he was a friend of yours.' A deep sigh of regret leaves me, chest tightening for a moment. 'How?' I demand, rubbing my temple. He clears his throat, probably catching on that no facial gesture or calming words will soften the incoming blow. 'One of the guards pinned him down too hard. We'll have to wait for the official autopsy results but I'd say blunt force trauma-possible asphyxiation.' 'Those fucking cunts,' I snap, shoving him into the bookcase as I storm past toward the library doors. There's no stopping me this time though. All Christopher can do is hastily catch up before I reach the door that leads to the foyer outside Arthur's office. It's propped open with heavy weights, and the usual guards are nowhere in sight. Officers are standing around the foyer, giving me suspicious, narrowed glances as I rush toward the man in his office. Christopher manages to catch me just before I barrel through the doors, gripping my arm tightly as he gives the officers a firm look. 'He's with me,' he says again sternly, flashing his staff card. On the other side of the door, Arthur hears the commotion, lifting his head. He pauses his conversation with a scowl, glancing around at the detectives in his office and fucking Alexander Dale. 'Hawthorne,' he snarls, eyes darting between me and Christopher with anger. 'What are you doing here?' I'm just about to launch myself into the room and across his wooden desk-which I notice has been replaced since my little late night adventure with Avery in here-when Christopher shoves me behind him. 'We need to begin psych appointments immediately,' he states urgently, trying to take control of the situation-of me. 'Patients are upset about the events.' Alexander huffs with an air of sarcasm from his leather chair pressed against the wall. 'Upset? Those delinquents started this whole mess.' 'Is that the bullshit story you're going with?' I laugh darkly, bringing myself to Christopher's left-hand side. 'What's wrong? Scared the authorities will find out the cold truth and realize you're the real criminals? No,' I pause thoughtfully. 'You're scared that the press outside may end up getting wind of the facts and tarnish your pretty little reputation.' 'Grey, shut up,' Christopher hisses quietly. 'Let me handle this.' 'Nah,' I say lazily, patting his shoulder patronizingly. 'I've got this, Doctor. Besides, I want to speak to Whittingham one-on-one.' My eyebrow lifts with a challenge, knowing full well Arthur won't accept it. He's nothing but a coward, hiding behind his web of lies. Arthur's jawline twitches at my test, eyes softening as he turns to the detectives and laughs calmly. 'Patients,' he starts. 'They keep us busy.' 'Leighton Pierce is dead,' I loudly announce to the room. 'Killed by one of your guards. I. Want. A. Name.' Hands creep toward concealed guns as detectives watch me carefully, sensing the danger reaching its peak in the room. But my issue isn't with them unless they make themselves a problem. I just want them here as witnesses. Arthur stands from his desk, the color of the shiny new mahogany oak very similar to the blood I spilled over the old one. Maybe I'm an influencer now. 'The guards are currently receiving professional help for their traumatic ordeal. I'll give you one chance to return to your room, otherwise, I'll have these nice detectives take you on a trip downtown.' Oh-so the old cunt wants to play that game? Next to me, Christopher is as stiff as a board, probably in a psychological state of panic. But he's stuck in his silence, unable to speak or walk away from the train derailment taking place in front of him. 'Where is Leighton?' I ask casually. 'Is he in the morgue downstairs next to your dead receptionist-slash-lover? I am intrigued to find out how she died. After all, she's been there a few days now I assume. Always makes me curious when healthy people just drop dead.' Arthur's jaw clenches, eyes narrowing on me. To my left, Alexander doesn't appear shocked by this revelation. And why would he? I have no doubt he's involved somehow. But unlike Arthur, he's watching the exchange with disinterest, completely unfazed and not at all caring that I'm spilling their secrets. After all, who would believe me? It's just a shame the press can't hear us. I'd love to see the headlines since they rarely care about truth and justice. 'My beloved Dorothea suffered a cardiac event while at work. The coroner has already been called and she has been kept safe until such time as they are available. She'll be taken from the premises and reunited with her family later today,' Arthur manages to spit out calmly. Of course he'd use today's events to cover up his own dirty work. It's almost as if he anticipated some type of event to occur today. Slimy bastard. The look on his face says it all. They knew that shit would go down. I now realize that this was all planned-exactly as they had hoped. Another ploy to set us up, to make us look like criminals to cover their own dirty tracks and strike us down. The only thing they didn't see coming was the marriage certificate. But if Alexander's calm demeanor is anything to go by, he already has a plan. As my attention turns to him, he clears his throat, standing and buttoning up his business jacket. Facing me, he steps forward, a cunning stare on his smug face. 'I need to go check on my son in the hospital-make sure he's alive,' he pauses, lip curling slightly with the idea of Damon's death. 'From what I've been told...' He lingers off, switching his gaze to Christopher. 'Other patients are also at the hospital, including my daughter-in-law. I'll be sure to check on her too.' My body moves in an instant, lunging forward as tight arms reach around my upper torso to try to contain me. The room erupts into chaos as Christopher struggles to hold me back, while detectives swarm toward us, drawing their guns on me. 'I'll escort him to his room after an immediate emergency psych session,' Christopher yells desperately, digging his fingers into me. 'It's fine. I'll sort it out.' Without breaking my stare with Alexander, I hiss at Christopher through clenched teeth, 'Let me go or so help me God I'll throw you through the fucking window, Christopher.' Alexander laughs quietly, a dark undertone lacing the sound as he steps past me. Lowering his voice so only we can hear, he sneers at me. 'I'll be sure to give Avery your best, Grey. I have use for her-for now. But as for Damon... I hope you said your goodbyes already.' An animalistic sound tears from me and I fling Christopher into the nearby wall, not giving a shit if he's hurt or not. Spinning around, I find Alexander stepping into the foyer, not bothering to glance back at the mess he's left in his path. I manage to take two steps toward the door, ready to rip his intestines out through his stomach with my bare hands when electricity suddenly jolts through my body. Spasming, my body stiffens involuntarily, legs buckling out as I smash into the floor, a taser probe lodged into my lower back. Those damn motherfuckers tasered me. Again. The pain doesn't bother me, although the voltage makes everything burn like I'm on fucking fire. But it's the inability to stop twitching and lack of bodily functions that angers and frustrates me. I can't speak, and I'm helpless as I watch Alexander disappear from sight. All I can think of is Avery. And how there's a monster heading her way and nothing I can do to stop it.