Page 90 of Exile

"Maybe the male dorms?" I offer, suddenly hearing the sound of footsteps as soon as the words leave my mouth.

Turning around, I expect to find the guys heading our way, but instead, we're face to face with Whittingham.

"Christopher," he snarls. "Ms. White—you are required to head back toyourroom after session."

My eyesdarken and narrow. "We're just fine without the directions, thank you."

Dr. Smith places his hand on my shoulder. "I'll escort her there now. We were just looking for her assigned guard."

Whitface cocks an eyebrow. "They are currently busy dealing with an urgent matter. I'll accompany you to the Eastwood Wing."

I don't like the sound of that, but what choice do we have?

Slowly, I pivot, walking ahead as I start to make my way to the girls' dorm. What the hell did he mean they were busy with an urgent matter? That must be why the guys aren't here.

Oh, my God. Are they hurt? Has someone done something to them?

I want to voice all my concerns out loud to Dr. Smith, to send him on the search, but with Whittingham bringing up the rear, we can't risk it. Dr. Smith is smart though—surely he'll do it anyway. Plus I'll try calling them when I'm back in the room. My cell is down my bra, concealed as best as possible. I wouldn't put it past anyone to check my pockets, so the boobs are the safest bet.

Stopping in front of my room, Whittingham opens the door when Dr. Smith makes no effort to do it for him. Holding it open, he motions for me to enter.

"Inside, Ms. White," he snaps irritably.

I chuck a quick glance at Dr. Smith over my shoulder, hoping to hell he can understand what I'm pleading with myeyes. He gives me a quick, subtle nod when Whitface isn't looking, and knowing we're on the same page, I step inside.

Facing the door, I meet the supervisor's eyes, the two of us sharing a mutual heated look of hatred. But then his lips twist into a dark smirk, unsettling my stomach.

The door slams closed in my face, and immediately I dive for the cell in my bra, ignoring the terrible boob sweat that coats the cell.

I try Damon first, pacing as I listen to the call go unanswered. When he doesn't pick up, I try Grey with the same result. Theo's cell doesn't even ring at all which scares the hell out of me.

Is he in solitary confinement? Did they fix the door that they blowtorched off?

Clutching my stomach, I think I might actually be sick. I try to gaslight myself that everything is fine—that there's a perfectly reasonable explanation for all this. But that smug bastard's smirk plays over and over in my head.

Something is happening, I just know it. There's no other possibility as to why the guys are nowhere to be seen and aren't able to answer their cells.

We promised we'd stick together in numbers. They wouldn't leave me alone.

Trying a different tactic, I breathe out a tiny sigh of relief when the feminine voice floats down the line.

"Avery?"

"Jillian," I choke out. "Do you know where Damon is? I just finished my session with Dr. Smith and I can't find anyone."

I hear shuffling noises in the background before the unmistakable sound of a laptop opening and whizzing to life.

"I'll check the cameras," she says. "I'm still stuck in my room."

"What?" I question. "Can't you just let yourself out?"

"I could," she confirms. "But Damon asked me not to. He doesn't want to alert anyone to our movements. Byrone and I have been keeping a watch on the feeds but nothing unusual has happened according to our observations."

Rubbing my forehead, I squeeze my eyes closed. "Something is happening. I just know it."

"They are in Markel's office," she announces. "The three of them, talking to him by the looks of it."

"N-no," I sputter. "That's not right. I just checked his office. It was empty…"