Page 10 of Exile (Dance with My Demons #4)

They continue talking, dropping more names I can't be bothered to learn. As I continue my initial observation of patients, someone grabs my attention.

That new patient keeps glancing over at us. I didn't take much notice at first—everyone was doing the same. But as the hype has worn off with people going back to their conversations, he's continuing to sneak glimpses .

I lower my head so as to not make it obvious that I'm watching him, and when he lifts his head again for another peek, I check to see who he's looking at.

Well, it appears Rian Thatcher has a kink for pain. Because I'm going to cave his face in and rip out his eyes since he's so fixated on my girlfriend.

Aves has temporarily forgotten about her leadership role, engrossed entirely in a sandwich that's as big as her head. To my surprise, there are no pizzas at all tonight, let alone a single piece of pineapple. Instead, Avery has opted to arrange sandwiches and finger foods for the circus gathering.

I linger close by to her, sending Damon's minions in the other direction if they attempt to approach while she's eating. They can wait. Avery didn't eat lunch and I wouldn't put it past Whittingham to resort back to old tactics of starvation if he can find his balls.

Without warning, said sandwich is thrust into my face, Avery grinning at me. "Try it. It's good."

I shake my head, amused. Her eyebrows pull together in frustration, stepping closer until she's got me caged in against the wall.

"Eat, Theo Ashwood," she demands .

Snorting, I hold her locked gaze, leaning down to take a bite. She looks satisfied, ready to step away when I grab her waist and pull her against me.

In my peripheral vision, I spot Grey watching our exchange, grinning while chatting to the one who's permanently attached to a laptop—Byrone, I believe—and as I focus, I catch little snippets of their discussion.

From what I can make out, someone died during the hallway ordeal. He's briefing the guy quickly and quietly, probably while Avery is distracted with her desire to shove the sandwich down my throat like we're on a cute couple's picnic during a random Tuesday afternoon.

That's good though. Avery doesn't handle death on her conscience well. Grey probably wants to sort out a plan before he updates her so that she doesn't have to do anything in regards to it.

When she starts to glance around, likely searching him out, I grip her chin and face her toward me.

"How are you feeling?" I ask.

I know she's handling things exceptionally well. I'm proud of her for that. But the exhaustion and stress is still present in her eyes as well as a lingering longing and sadness. It's clear who it belongs to—the one person who should be here, dealing with this.

I never thought I'd see the day where I cared, let alone, acknowledged, Damon's welfare. But he's grown on me as well. It's evident he loves Avery and will protect her with his life, and despite my desire to remain away from people, I believe in morals.

Damon is a loyal man, and he treats people well—most of the time.

He's looked out for me despite our differences, and I respect that.

This dynamic was never going to be easy for everyone, but we've all made it work, and by bringing me into his circle, I've given my loyalty to Damon.

As long as he treats Aves well and doesn't hurt her, it will stay like that.

I appreciate the fact he took a bullet for her. We'd have all done the same, but we're here with her—he's not. He's paying a price that we'd all struggle with, while still ensuring that she's protected and loved.

Madison deserved that. And she paid the ultimate price for people's selfishness.

While I never saw eye to eye with Damon and Grey, we can all agree on one thing: Avery is the priority.

She has brought us together. What was it that Grey called us? Brothers-in-law? I guess that rings true now that Avery is a married woman.

It did cross my mind to warn Avery of the plan.

The three of us discussed it in great detail.

Ultimately, we all agreed that we needed things to be as authentic as possible with as few people involved.

A dick move for sure from Avery's point of view, but we couldn't risk someone hurting her.

We needed to move fast, and Avery likes to weigh up all the pros and cons .

I believed her when she said she would have agreed. There was never any doubt in my mind. But she would have dwelled on the details and guilt, sending her mind into a spiral, and time was of the essence.

When she asked how we felt about it, I was completely honest with my answer. A piece of paper means nothing to me. I'd already given thought about polyamorous marital situations with Madison—long landing on the point that love doesn't always need to go by the societal book and normal standards.

Avery is mine, in every way, shape and form that's important.

Her being legally wed to someone else doesn't take away from what we have.

What we have is unique, consensual, and customized to suit our individual relationships with her.

She wears my ink and marks on her skin, I wear her on my dick.

And she has my little black bleeding heart in her hands. That's all that matters.

I keep my arm tucked around her waist as she ponders my question.

"I'm okay," she answers honestly. "Just worried about everything."

"And about Damon," I point out.

She nods. "I know Alexander won't stop. He made that clear when he cornered me at the hospital."

After she filled us in, detailing all the events from her departure from Lilydale to her return, I can't say I'm surprised.

Alexander Dale is a sly bastard, completely self-absorbed and obsessed.

He's dangerous, and I won't hesitate to subject him to the same fate that led me here if he comes near Avery again.

"We won't let him," I promise her, meaning every fucking word. "Or that pathetic excuse for a shit stain that sticks to him."

"Whitface will already be planning something. He's spiraling. Did you see his face at lunch?"

I nod, watching as Grey finishes his conversation and heads in our direction. He comes up behind her, Avery shooting him a smile as she kisses his cheek.

"I think I know a way for us to find out," Grey says, clearly having heard the last part of our exchange.

"Oh?" Avery perks up. "How?"

Grey gestures toward Byrone and the tech girl. "Jillian still has access to the cameras we placed around, including the one in his office. As long as the servers and connection stay online, we can monitor his conversations."

"I asked Dr. Smith to purchase some new cells for us as well," Avery responds. "That way we can communicate with each other. Whittingham hopefully won't take notice since he confiscated the other ones and likely won't be expecting us to have new ones so soon."

He grins at her proudly, planting a kiss on her forehead before taking a huge bite out of the sandwich still in her hand. Whether he knows my mouth was on it before or not, he doesn't seem to care .

Fucking brothers-in-law.

Madison would have liked him. She would have lectured me to like him. The two of them would have fed off each other's energy. He's almost the male version of her—if Madison was a homicidal maniac with a weird kink for blood.

Swallowing the food, I notice his change in demeanor immediately. He gives me a tight smile, before spinning Avery around to face him.

"Alright, little killer. I have some news."

Avery stiffens, nodding for him to continue as she braces herself for whatever's coming.

Grey cups her cheek, stroking it with his thumb. "Leighton was killed in the fight. One of the guards injured him."

She doesn't react, the only telling sign she's affected by the news are her eyes which become a little glassy. Still, she holds herself together, lowering her head.

"Shit," she mutters. "But that's not all, is it?"

Grey shakes his head slowly, grimacing. "We've completed a headcount on all the patients, checking to make sure no one else was injured."

"And?" I ask when Avery stays silent, her face suddenly full of dread.

His eyes dart over to me, gaze reflecting the severity of his next words.

"Four patients are missing. They weren't involved in the hallway incident. But they did sign Elsher's bullshit consent form for voluntary treatment ."