Chapter Twenty
There was a moment…
I remember it exactly, down to the subtlest of sensations. The blown pupils and tense muscles. The lack of words that even needed to be spoken. It was a look; one shared look between the three of us, and we knew.
There was a moment when we decided we were going to take this island back. And believe it or not, it was long before The Ivory started doing everything in his power to break us, and phase us out.
It was after Tammy’s funeral, after Velle laid his mother to rest, and took as much closure from that experience as he could for the moment.
We’d acknowledged that we needed to go back, and for all the uncertainty and jealousy I felt in knowing I was willingly delivering the man I love to the man who’d abused and manipulated him for well over a decade, I was onboard with whatever Jonathan Chevelle wanted to do.
Because not only was I fully in love with him, but I trusted him with my life. And he was in charge.
He was. Not The Ivory.
I was standing beside the true king of Alabaster Isle.
And I would be by his side no matter what.
No matter what kinds of danger we faced, or how dirty our hands had to get…
He decided right then and there, with me on his one side, and Joy on his other, that we were going to fight, and fight, and fight some more.
And it wouldn’t be easy. Far from it… But we wouldn’t stop until The Ivory reign was officially toppled.
There were more than a few moments of doubt. Of course there were. After all, we were just a ragtag band of morally corrupt makeshift officers. There were twenty of us. And ninety-two active inmates. That was it.
He had the entire cartel—and connections from mob families all over the world.
He had dirty cops in just about every police force in all the boroughs, government officials in his pocket.
Manuel Blanco had spent two decades building himself a global empire.
His power seemed limitless, and in considering how we could even go about defeating that, we had to consider that a physical fight likely wouldn’t end well for us.
But we did have one advantage. It was something that made me sick with rage to think about, but couldn’t be ignored as something—a weakness for us to play on.
Manuel Blanco wanted Velle back. He was desperate to hold on to his pet, which was the only reason we kept the peace, and kept working. It was just a different shade of gray until we could figure out how to defeat him.
We needed the prisoners.
It was a gamble for sure, but in order for this plan to work, we would have to free the animals from their cages and hope like hell they didn’t turn on us. And even then… would it be enough?
For months, we trained in secret, stocking supplies in Oscar’s Attic. That was the code name…
Get it? Oscar’s Attic… O.A. Old armory.
Yea, pretty basic, but I thought it was cute.
Joy is exceptionally talented, at many things, but she has a real skill for sneaking around, and stealing. Subtly, like pilfering small amounts of things here and there until she has a whole stockpile of provisions.
Still, we needed more weapons—a lot more—and Oscar’s Attic was no longer the place where such things were kept. They were in the new armory, located inside the prison. More specifically, in the West Wing, right around the corner from the Warden’s office. This was not done by happenstance.
And so, we came up with a plan to hijack the armory, which would coincide with Dr. Love’s plan to imprison the East Wing doctors. And we were all set to move forward with our hostile takeover… When The Ivory beat us to the punch.
Cartel capos, dressed as uniformed officers—dressed like us, only distinctly different—swarmed the halls of Alabaster Penitentiary. It was immediately clear why they were there; to cause intentional mayhem. And to replace us.
I hate to give the asshole credit for anything, but it was a smart move. While I’m sure he’d been planning it since we left, he waited for the perfect moment to throw us a curveball.
One thing I’ve learned about Velle, however, throughout this whole thing, is how adaptable he is. How willing he is to take his licks, and allow them to fuel his rage, and his perseverance.
In that moment, he vowed that if The Ivory could be patient, and wait for his moment… so could we.
Except that when we struck, the hit would be critical.
And so here we are. Our plan is officially in effect. We’ve been laying in wait for months, and it’s finally time to make our move.
Interestingly enough, we’re still waiting.
As soon as the lights in the cellblock went out, we were locked and loaded. Pieces in place, and ready to make our move. That prick Pedroia had some kind of meeting—we’re not sure of the specifics, but chances are it had something to do with us.
No matter, though. As soon as the coast was clear, and we were sure The Ivory was preoccupied, Velle and I slipped upstairs and took the armory.
It was actually a lot easier than it should have been. We drilled into the lock, and once we were inside, we began creating barricades, stacking furniture to hide behind in the event we get bogged down and have to start shooting.
We’ve emptied the entire weapons cache, filled bag after bag with as many guns as we could fit.
And now we wait.
Velle and I are going to hole up in here until Peters, Soto and Reyes can take the night crew hostage. After that, we take the control rooms, get guns to the prisoners, and once we have the numbers… We take the prison.
That’s the plan, anyway. And it’s a solid one. Sure, a million things could go wrong, but I have faith in us.
I have faith in him, more than anything else.
Seated on the floor behind an overturned desk, we have a few moments of silence before all hell surely breaks loose.
I witness my partner taking a breath, holding it with eyes closed, back pressed against the oak.
I’m not sure if he’s giving himself a moment to panic, to worry, obsess, doubt. But if he is, you’d have no idea.
He’s a rock. As sturdy as the concrete that surrounds us. Maybe more.
“There’s one thing still bothering me,” he rumbles.
I cock my head. “You still worried about the meeting?”
“Nah,” he grunts. “Even if he’s planning something, he’s too late.”
I nod. “Realistically, he had to know evicting us would prompt retaliation.”
“I’m sure he thinks he knows what we’re gonna do…” He smirks.
I bite my lip, and his eyes fall to it. Then he bites his own, settling some heat in my gut that reminds me of how long it’s been since I had his ankles in the air.
Not very long at all in the grand scheme of amounts of time, but still… We went from nonstop fucking over the summer, to dedicating a majority of our time to mutiny preparations. It’s been a lot of added stress and long hours.
Not to mention as of last night we’re officially homeless…
I miss being able to sink into him any time he gives me one of those hungry Velle looks. Cock of a pierced eyebrow, tug of a plump lip between his teeth, and I’d have his pants around his thighs, and my cock in my fist, being guided into him slowly…
Listening to the way he always purrs a rough, choked welcoming sound at that first deep thrust…
“Still no sign of Bird Bird,” Brenner’s voice comes over the walkie, startling us both out of our lustful thoughts.
The way Velle’s chest is heaving tells me he was seeing the same sort of thing I was. Which has me wanting to make it happen all the more.
“Ten-four,” Velle croaks to Brenner. “All good in the Attic?”
“Yea, Joy’s with Bert and Ernie,” he replies, and Velle chuckles. “This storm is pretty bad, man. The lightning’s no joke. I almost got struck just trying to get to the bunker.”
Something serious flashes over Velle’s face. “Get the hell away from that guard tower. I mean it…”
“Yea, yea. No worries,” Brenner mutters.
Velle sighs, shaking his head as he checks his watch. “Just keep an eye out.”
“Ten-four.”
The cop in me can’t help but scrutinize him. He’s not always the easiest dude to get a read on, but I’ve gotten better at picking up his cues.
There’s something he’s not saying.
“What’s on your mind?” I brush my fingers along his jaw. He blinks at me. “You said there was something still bothering you.”
He relaxes a bit, leaning into me. “The girl.”
Ah… I see.
“I really wish we’d found out for sure if that’s her in that cell,” he adds.
“You think it’d make that big a difference?” My brow arches.
“Only fuck yes,” he says with surety that brings a chuckle out of me. “Once we get the control room, I could find a way to get her out. There’s supposed to be a manual override…”
I get where he’s coming from. The intel he got from Ren months back about a mystery girl in the prison wound up being verified when we learned of the existence of a girl from The Ivory’s past named Avianna Alvarez.
It’s unclear whether Avianna is the person locked in the secret cell off the East…
None of us knows who this person is or where she came from, and we don’t have access to the cell. Not anymore.
But if it is this Avianna girl, and The Ivory is holding her for a reason, she’d make a pretty excellent piece of leverage.
“Well, it won’t hurt to at least check her out, once we have the control room,” I offer some optimism to ease his mind. “Hopefully, my dad will come through with more details.”
He nods, but his expression tells me he’s unsure of whether this will happen, or if it would even matter if it did.
Taking his face in my hands, I touch his lips with mine, gently. A barely-kiss, more surviving on his breaths than greedy devouring.
His hands appear on my chest, digging in just enough that I can tell he’s on the same ride I am right now. Climbing just as high, click click clicking up to the very top; the steepest point before the drop.
“You’re like a roller coaster, baby. Scary as fuck, but just the best shot of adrenaline.”