Chapter Eighteen #2
Seriously, I can’t right now. Where the hell are Rook and Velle??
I’m worried.
Okay, fine. Maybe I’m scared shitless.
I really don’t want to know what The Ivory will do to us if he doesn’t feel like he needs us anymore. Because let’s be real, that’s the whole reason we’re here in the first place. He built this army, trained us to be the perfect soldiers for him.
Velle betrayed him by going AWOL. Of course, we don’t see it that way, because we know the truth. But The Ivory has always had a delusional worldview. Call it a symptom of growing up heartless in the business of murder, money, and power.
And when it comes to his pet, he’s beyond delulu.
Taking my phone out of my pocket, I turn my back to the guys, refusing to let them see that my hands are shaking as I pull up a text to someone who could help.
Someone I purposely refused to call on until right fucking now, because I know involving him in this mess could mean danger for even more people I care about.
But I just don’t see any other way out.
We need fucking help.
Me: Dad… I need you
Barely sixty seconds pass.
Daddy: I’ll load up
I’m chewing on my bottom lip as a distinct whistle comes from outside. Rushing to the door, I open it, ushering Rook inside.
“Where’s Velle?” I ask nervously, peering behind him.
“Not with me,” Harley is pacing now, fingers sifting through his golden hair. “I think he went to talk to him… He must still be there.”
My stomach is making a climb up my esophagus.
Part of me doesn’t want to tell him what I just did, because he might be mad. Mouth hanging agape, I’m just about to say it when the same whistle on the other side of the door. Before either of us can open it, Velle smashes his way through.
Kicking it shut behind him, he presses his back to the wood, leaning his body weight against it. His eyes slam shut, chin dipping as he scrubs his palms over his face, growling into them. The entire room has gone silent, just gawking at him, awaiting whatever he’s about to say.
Finally, his face lifts. “I will burn this place to the fucking ground.”
“What’s going on?” Hancock murmurs anxiously. “What is this?”
Velle is wound up tight. I can see it. “It’s exactly what we always knew would happen.”
“Yea, we bruised his fucking ego, and now he’s serving us an extra helping of shit casserole,” Jasper grunts.
“So? We’re just gonna let him get away with it?” Rook protests. “Are we gonna stand around complaining like babies?? Or are we going to fix it?”
Everyone’s eyes spring to Velle.
He and Harley are locked. Sharing a wordless conversation I can hear like they’re speaking it.
“Over my dead fucking body,” Velle whispers. He glances around the room at our men, all of whom are allegiant, anticipating his instruction. “But the thing is, if we want to win the long game… we’re gonna have to keep playing.”
Hours later, we finally bite the bullet and drag our asses home.
I don’t know how to feel about this plan, because it doesn’t feel like much of one. We’re used to being on the offensive. Since the whole thing with Velle’s mom, we’ve been in control, despite what The Ivory thinks.
This move has really shaken things up. And now we’re stuck playing defense while he gets to waltz around like he isn’t Satan in a bougie fucking suit.
None of us know what to expect from these new guards—God, even thinking about it makes me want to throw up in my mouth. I never wanted to be a correctional officer in a shithole prison, but the last thing I want is to be replaced as a correctional officer in a shithole prison.
It’s all fucked. Everything. Just a big fat pile of what the fucking shit.
So yea, we have a plan. But at the moment, the plan sort of revolves around playing things by ear, which I know Velle hates even more than the rest of us.
Laying low, feeling these assholes out, while working on regaining control.
“It’s probably gonna get worse before it gets better,” Velle had said to the team as we were gearing up to head back into the mouth of the beast. “Just sayin.”
And now here we are. Walking into what could only be described as a waking nightmare.
As soon as we step inside the mansion, the rest of the guys are racing up to our floor, I’m assuming to make sure their shit is still there.
But Rook, Velle and I don’t bother. We know it is, because if it weren’t, this would become a much bigger issue.
And as fucked up as he is, it’s not the Warden’s style to throw all of his cards on the table at once.
No, he’s gonna make us sweat this one out.
I’m sure it’s no coincidence that right as we’re walking in, two of the new guards are coming downstairs—down his stairs—right alongside the prick of the hour himself.
Manuel fuckin Blanco.
They’re chatting in Spanish, conversing about their bedrooms—on the second floor of his side of the mansion, apparently—the food, and the gym. The Ivory is acting rather chummy with these fools, and I can practically hear Velle’s blood boiling at my side.
Oh boy. There he goes…
“What are they doing here??” Velle barks, stomping right up to them in the foyer.
That was fast.
The Ivory cocks his head to the side, smirking like he’s pleased that he has Velle all riled up, which surprises no one. But he doesn’t speak. He lets his goons do it for him.
“We didn’t get a chance to meet officially,” the guy on the right says. “I’m Christian. Equino.”
He holds out his hand to Velle, who isn’t even looking at him. He’s just glaring at The Ivory.
“Not enough space in the staff house?” Velle mutters with the arch of his brow.
The Ivory just keeps staring. Smirking.
“You’re lucky we didn’t take your rooms,” the dude on the left hums, shit-eating grin on his face.
Velle’s eyes pry away from The Ivory, and Rook and I are immediately stalking over because we can read every inch of that expression.
He’s, like, a breath away from feeding that dude his own teeth.
And yet the guy is still somehow stupid enough to get even closer to Velle’s face. “Something tells me you’ve got the nicest one. Es verdad, amigo?”
“Turn around,” Velle hisses, barely an inch from the dude’s face. “Or the next word outta your mouth will be your last.”
The prick isn’t backing down, but before Rook can step between them, The Ivory places his hand on the guy’s shoulder, humming by his ear, “Calmate, Hector. There’ll be plenty of time for all that later.”
The Ivory slides his dark gaze to Velle’s once more as he pats the dude on the back, which seems to activate him or something, because he backs up. Not without first winking at Velle.
He and his pal saunter off, calling us assholes in Spanish—either they assume we don’t speak it, or they don’t care. Probably the latter.
“What the fuck…” Velle snarls at the Warden, who could not possibly appear more unaffected. “The prison is one thing… But this is our home. You made it that way.”
“Yes, and now it’s theirs too,” he sighs blithely. “Buck up and deal with it, Jonathan. You chose this path—”
“I didn’t choose this…”
“Whining and bellyaching for months about being short-staffed…” The Ivory goes on, ignoring Velle’s seething. “I go out of my way to give you what you want and you have the nerve to be ungrateful—”
“I didn’t ask for this!” He roars in The Ivory’s face. My heart lurches up into my gut fast, limbs shaking with adrenaline. “I don’t want them here! I sure as shit don’t want them in my home…”
“Your home??” Manuel Blanco scoffs, showing the first inkling of a human reaction.
Black eyes hardened, sharpened, like daggers.
But he covers it up quick, straightening.
Lips quirking once more. “I thought you’d be happy, Jonathan.
You’ve been overworked for so long. Now you can finally get some rest.” He pats Velle on the chest. “Put your feet up… Relax. My men are here now, in my home.” His sinister grin widens. “Like one big happy family.”
He shoots Rook and me a glance before sauntering away. “I’m off to the den for a nightcap.” He peeks at Velle one last time over his shoulder. “You’re welcome to join me. Oh, but I will require you on your knees.”
“I’m going to kill you—”
“Alright,” Rook breathes, grabbing Velle’s arm before he lunges. “Enough.”
The Warden chuckles, shaking his head. “Sleep tight, Officers.”
The three of us watch him go, vibrating wrath, and some fear. As strange as it sounds, I feared The Ivory a lot less when I first started working for him. But over the years, I’ve realized what he can do. I’ve learned who he is… And believe it or not, I think he’s gotten worse.
He’s not the kind of monster that growls and roars and thrashes. You won’t see the pain he inflicts coming. He’s unpredictable, and smart, with a legion of loyalty behind him.
He barely has to lift a finger to hurt us, but it’s damn near impossible to get to him. You can’t kill what he loves, because he loves nothing, and that makes him so much more dangerous than I ever anticipated.
Money and power are his only true loves, but we can’t seem to make a dent in it.
“I hope you got enough rest the last three months,” Velle grunts, heading for our stairs. “Looks like we won’t be sleeping for a while.”
“Fuck everything about my life right now,” I sigh, nodding for Rook to follow me.
The three of us head upstairs to our bedroom, where we strip down and get ready to put the longest, shittiest day we’ve had in a while behind us. We get into the shower together, but Rook and I end up getting out and giving Velle some space.
He hasn’t said a word. Just standing beneath the flow of water, eyes closed, like he’s trying to let it wash him clean, but is already too deeply infected.
In bed, Rook and I lie down, leaving distance between us for our third piece. And it takes him a while, but eventually he shuffles over to the bed, in the dark, and climbs in.
Rook is on him in an instant.
“Baby, it’s gonna be alright,” he whispers, brushing tender fingers through Velle’s hair, kissing his shoulder. “We’ll figure this out.”
“Maybe,” Velle mumbles. “Maybe not…”
“I called my dad,” I whisper, because I can’t hold it in any longer.
I’m not sure how Velle is going to react to this. He might be fucking pissed…
Sure enough, he freezes, face whipping in my direction. “You did what?”
Gulp. “I, um… Well, technically I texted him. But… yea. I reached out.” Velle is quiet. Just gaping at me. “I’m sorry, but I didn’t know what else to do. We need help.”
“And you think The Ivory is gonna let your father anywhere near this island?” He rasps. “Especially now??”
“Velle, it’s my dad.” I roll my eyes. “He’s not an idiot. He can find a way—”
“No. Absolutely not.” He sits up fast, rubbing his eyes.
“Why not—”
“I will not put your family in danger!” He barks, quietly, but still. There’s enough bite that I shut right up. “Either of you.” He looks to both of us. “You got that?? Neither of your families are getting involved, because that’s just more leverage, and he already has enough on me.”
Rook and I share a look. He swallows visibly.
He means us.
He’s weaker… because he loves us. And The Ivory knows that.
“Okay.” I nod, rubbing his arm. “I’ll tell him not to come.”
Velle nods, exhaling hard. “I’m sorry, Cherry, I just…
can’t. I’m already on edge thinking about him using you two to hurt me.
I won’t have him using your families too.
In fact, I think we need to start arranging some security.
Or maybe… your parents might need to leave town,” he says to Rook. “At least until we figure out how to—”
Rook stops his words with his lips. I have to bury my face in Velle’s side because I’m afraid I’ll break down.
I hate this. I hate… feelings. So many of them, all tied to this. Love.
Velle has every right to be afraid now, just like I am, just like Harley is. Because it’s not just us alone anymore…
We’re in love with each other. And love does make you weak.
It’s just a fact.
“I love you,” Rook hums, reaching over Velle’s abs to take my hand in his. “Both of you.”
Velle’s dark blue eyes flick to mine, and I can see it, shining brighter than the moon reflecting off the ocean.
He loves us too. And because of that, for the first time in over ten years, he’s fucking terrified.