Chapter Twenty-Five
For a while, I wasn’t sure it would happen.
It certainly took long enough to get the approval.
Months and months of waiting, all the while perfecting my cover. My new identity.
As it would seem, I’ve resumed my training. And finally, I feel alive again, for the first time in years.
Honestly, I feel foolish for giving in so easily. For giving up. One stupid mistake and I throw away fifteen years of drive? My parents… Avianna would be ashamed.
That’s not me. I’m no quitter.
As sparse as my research was, I found everything I need to know… That this mysterious island called Alabaster Isle houses a facility, guarded by a small squad of officers who, like the prisoners themselves, aren’t allowed to leave. And the whole thing is reigned over by the ivory king himself.
The man who killed my parents… The man who has destroyed my life ten times over at this point.
El Diablo.
So, come hell or high water, I will get to that island. I will infiltrate that mansion…
And I will kill The Ivory.
To ensure my acceptance as a recruit, I needed to work on my disguise. I couldn’t just roll up as myself, not now. Not after what happened at The Edge.
Simply changing my hair and wearing contacts wouldn’t be enough. He’d see me coming a mile away.
A few weeks back, I was at Josie’s place.
By the end of the night, the party had faded off, and it was just our little crew.
And as usual, we were all blasted out of our minds.
Will and Derek were flirting excessively while Liv was doing this strip tease of sorts, removing items of her clothing and whipping them at us.
I asked her if I could put them on, for funzies, because I like the way I look in pretty clothes. And the next thing I knew, she and Josie were dressing me up like a human doll.
It was all in fun. I was high as fuck, and I looked hot. Still, standing in front of the mirror in a satin dress and heels, it was more than just sexual. I didn’t just like the way I looked; I liked the way I felt.
It was oddly comforting. I didn’t feel like a boy dressed as a girl. I just felt like me.
That was when it clicked. The answer slipped over me like a perfect fit.
Avianna.
I could be Avianna, my sister.
Of course I couldn’t use her actual name, but I could dress up like her, like a woman. That way, The Ivory wouldn’t recognize me. He wouldn’t even suspect it was me. He’s had his goons out looking for a boy…
So I would be a girl. Simple as that.
I’ve spent the last few months practicing.
Doing my hair and makeup, coming up with outfits, walking in heels.
Tucking and stuffing. Liv helped me a lot, though I feel bad because I couldn’t tell her why I was really doing this.
Instead, I just told her I was considering doing drag.
She didn’t exactly seem like she believed me, but she didn’t push it, and I have to appreciate that.
In fact, none of my friends have batted an eye at me changing up my look.
It’s good. The plan hinges on me becoming Arianna, aka Ari, though the identification I gave their recruiter said Elias Young.
But I’m sure they won’t press the matter if I show up as Ari the female instead.
If they do, I’ll clap back at them for being insensitive.
It’ll work, I’m sure of it. But most of all, I want it to work. I need it to.
I need a reason to get up in the morning again. Something to chase. Not only the thrill of the hunt, but the purpose of it.
Underneath it all, I know I’m still Angel Alvarez. And I am nervous about various aspects of this thing. But I can’t deny that something about becoming Arianna is deeply settling to a part of me that has never truly felt quite right.
Anyway, all the waiting has finally paid off. Yesterday, I got the call, from a man named Kent. The recruiter. He let me know I’d been approved.
I’m going to the Ivory Mansion.
After getting my welcome packet, which consists of a burner phone, directions on when and where to meet, a schedule for my first visit, and a hundred bucks cash per diem to be spent on whatever I want, I finally feel like this is real. It’s actually happening…
“You know I’ve been waiting for you too, pajarito…”
I can barely sleep the night before I leave, going over everything in my head again and again.
I’m dressed and ready hours before the car is set to pick me up, pacing around my apartment in my dress and platform wedges.
Makeup and hair flawless, Ari voice practiced to death and as perfected as I’m going to get it.
I look good, I feel… like I might throw up, but still. Ready.
And when my phone pings that the driver is downstairs to pick me up, I take one last long inhale and close my eyes.
This is it.
I’m coming back for you, Diablo.
It’s been two months since my first visit to Alabaster Isle, and by all accounts, it is truly a fascinating place.
I’m mesmerized by it in many ways, despite it being ominous and bustling with obvious despair. The guards are deeply wounded people. That much has become clear over my eight or so visits; the eight or so weekends I’ve spent partying with them, getting high with them… Letting them fuck me raw.
As it turns out, Ari is just as much of a slut as Angel has been over the last four years. Who knew?
The difference is that Angel was fucking to feel something, while Ari is fucking with purpose. And that purpose is getting these guards to drop their guard and open up. It’s working too.
Officer Soto is partial to fucking in the library for some reason, which gives me more access to the downstairs.
The occasional blowjob for Nestor—one of The Ivory’s personal security team—and now I’m allowed to wander pretty much wherever I want, so long as I don’t cross the threshold to the right side.
That’s one thing I still can’t get out of them.
But no matter. I’ll get over there, eventually. In the meantime, I’m more interested in what else is on this island…
Last weekend, I let an officer named Cam Linetti fuck me in his bed.
After he came, he got sort of clingy and wanted me to stay for a bit, which I did.
And while he was dozing, and I was stroking his hair and asking him completely innocent questions, he told me that the prison, called Alabaster Pen, has one-hundred and one inmates.
Apparently, they’d just taken in number 101 a couple weeks ago.
And according to Cam, the kid’s a big pain in the ass.
“We’re not allowed to touch him for some reason,” he yawned. “Joy’s orders. Which is bullshit because usually the inmates are fair game. Especially in solitary.”
My mind was running through this new information.
The guards fuck the inmates?
Solitary??
“It’s even crazier because the kid has all kinds of contraband. So if no one’s fucking him… where’s he getting all his stuff, ya know?”
I was dying to ask questions, but I didn’t want him to feel like I was grilling him or anything. So I just whispered, “What’d this kid do? To get locked up?”
“He’s a bank robber. Killed the Governor’s niece during a shootout with police…” He slung a large arm over my waist. “Or so they say…”
“You don’t think he did it?” I kept my tone as casual as possible, lulling him into a trance with my hair-fingering.
“All I know is there were a lotta bullets flying around that day,” he mumbled like he was half asleep. “Friend’a mine’s a cop in Crown Heights. He was on duty that day… Commissioner made ‘em all delete their body cam footage…”
And then, he was snoring, while I was reeling.
So the prison housed inmates who’d done horrible things… But maybe some who hadn’t.
I felt like a bloodhound on the scent. I needed to know more about the prison. Who was in there, what it was like.
What Diablo was doing to them in there.
It’s gotten to the point where every moment spent in the city, I’m wishing I was back there.
I’m having a hard time concentrating on anything else.
Fortunately, I could quit my job thanks to the money I’m making as a party favor.
I even met up with some of the guards one night in Manhattan while they were on their monthly trip off-island, which they call a purge.
Fitting, really.
Yes, they behave like wild animals on the island. But when they’re set free, it’s like twenty-four hours of nonstop mayhem. The Ivory’s connections must be working overtime to clean up their messes.
Regardless of how messed up it is, I feel like I can breathe again when I step off the ferry. Maybe it’s because I’m not trapped here like they are, but I wouldn’t want to leave this place.
I don’t. Not yet.
I’m having too much fun.
Tonight is a particularly rowdy one in the Ivory Mansion.
A few of the guys decided they would drink an entire bottle of tequila, chase it with an eight ball, then have a slap fight.
Literally, they’re just smacking the shit out of each other to see who can stay standing the longest. The loser gets fucked by everyone in the room, one after another.
Slap train, they’re calling it.
I’m warm and fuzzy, from the liquor and a healthy combination of mushrooms and Adderall. Surrounded by hot people doing hot things. It’s enticing, I can’t lie.
But more than anything, I’m still on alert and attempting to contain my fidgets from simply being in The Ivory’s home. I haven’t gotten used to it yet… It affects me viscerally, that he actually lives under this roof, where I am.
I’ve only glimpsed him from afar three times. Understandably, I have to keep my distance until I’m ready to strike. Still, I can’t help wondering what he’s doing right now…
What does he do while all of this is going on? Is he partaking in his own nighttime routine?
This girl, Kelsey, who’s apparently a regular, like Soren, is grinding on Reyes’s lap in nothing but a G-string, while he wraps her ponytail around his fist and kisses her neck. Barely thirty seconds later, he’s pulling her underwear to the side and sliding her down on his impressive erection.