Chapter Thirty-Two #2
All the while, as they’re getting me unchained, bandaging up my wounds and bringing me food, and clothing to change into, I’m just watching them. Feeling such a profound sense of pride on behalf of one of the most troubled people I’ve ever met.
After everything he’s been through, that Trevel Fenwick could find the courage to continue seeking unconditional love is nothing shy of incredible.
I’d like to take some minor credit for helping him, but this isn’t mine.
If anything, I further contributed to his abandonment issues.
I hurt him, and I do feel bad about that.
I’m just glad he could find something worthwhile here, as I have. A purpose.
For days after Trevel saves me, I’m still trapped. And trapped in a dark, cement tomb with the dead bodies of the men I’d hated, no less. So… that’s fun.
At least now I have some supplies; a first-aid kit, food and water, a lantern, and a space heater that works on battery power.
I find an alcove at the other end of the tombs where I decide to stay, so I don’t have to smell the gross funk of death, which was already down here before the two assholes, which leads me to believe that they weren’t the first unfortunate pricks to meet their miserable end in this dungeon.
I’m just grateful it was them and not me. Because I want to see Felix. I’m desperate for it. Every time the noise dies down above my head, I creep towards the stairs and consider attempting an escape.
Unfortunately, it’s just too risky. The stairs in a place with very little cover. Plus, I feel a sudden sense of allegiance to Byron and Trevel. It’d be a dick move to leave before I’m certain that they can get out too. I’m sure that’s why Felix hasn’t shown up yet…
As torturous as it is, we need to be smart, and patient. I will not give up hope, and I will not be entertaining the idea that he’s hurt. I believe in him above all else, and I can’t help thinking that whatever he’s been doing is more important to the greater good than risking it all to save me.
Just because he’s a monster, that doesn’t mean he doesn’t care. On the contrary, he cares almost too hard sometimes. It’s one of the things I love most about him. His unwavering devotion.
God, my sweet, sick Need.
I miss you so much it hurts.
Taking out the cellphone Trevel gave me, I take another shot at calling random numbers from Joy’s contacts list, to see if anyone picks up.
So far, no one has. Everyone I try is either out of service, or it goes straight to voicemail.
The thing’s at fifteen percent battery, and the roaming is draining it fast, so I can’t be fucking around here.
Not to mention that her father calls and texts incessantly every second it’s powered on. I feel kind of awful. He seems really worried.
And that gets me thinking…
Not that I want to lure anyone to impending danger, but based on what I know about Joy’s father, something tells me he’d be alright with it. According to their texts, Joy told him not to come. But since he hasn’t heard from her in a while, he’s threatening to disobey her wishes.
To show up and behead that Colombian fucking prick, his exact words.
Maybe I should respond… Just to update him. What’s the harm in that?
Typing out a text, I hit send. Feeling satisfied with my message. Until the phone immediately starts ringing in my hand.
Shit… I’m not sure why I didn’t anticipate this.
Contemplating what to do for way too long, I ultimately swipe to answer.
“Hello?”
“Alright, listen up, preck. I don’t know who yeh are, but yeh better tell me where the fook my daughter is, or I’ll rain hellfire down on your miserable existence—everyone shut up!” He barks at someone in the background in between barking at me, and I have to grin.
I learned about Joy’s dad when I first got here, while reading up on the guards and their histories. Finn Jameson was one of the most ruthless enforcers for the Irish Mob in Boston. Old-school Boondock Saints type guy.
I’d love to meet him.
“My name is Dr. Lemuel Love. I work with your daughter… sort of,” I croak. “Unfortunately, I can’t tell you for certain where she is, but I’d like to think she’s alright. Since, you know… she’s your daughter.”
Cringing, I shake my head. Even ten percent more compassionate would have probably worked. Jesus.
“Doctor… you sound like a right fookin arsehole. When I get to that island, I’m shooting you first.”
Then he hangs up.
Uh… oops.
I might have made things worse.
Well, shit. Now I really need to get out of here so I can find Joy before her dad shows up and potentially interferes with whatever they’re doing.
I decide to try one number again. The only one I think could have even a prayer of picking up. It was going straight to voicemail before, but it wasn’t disconnected like the rest. Most likely because this person isn’t here on the island.
But he could help. Maybe.
It’s a long shot, but all I have are long shots right now. I have to do something. Waiting for Trevel, and standing by the gate to see if anyone I know comes by isn’t working for me anymore.
Placing the call, I lean up against the wall, praying for an answer. And to my utter shock, this time, someone does.
“Hello…?”
“Uh… is this Kellan Kemper?” I ask, hopefulness underlining my question.
“Yes, it—”
“Baby?!” A familiar voice gasps from the background of the call, and my chest seizes. “Baby, oh my God, is that you??”
A startled smile crosses my face.
I knew it.
Thirty minutes later, I’m pacing by the gate.
Joy told me to meet them here fifteen minutes ago, and not that I thought them getting over here would be easy, but I’m worried about what could be taking them so long.
I really hate that Felix wanted to use himself as bait to get me out. I would rather stay down here indefinitely than have him hurt trying to rescue me.
The gunfire today has been minimal, which isn’t necessarily a comfort. When it’s quiet, that usually means something is happening behind the scenes. I just want to reconvene with Velle and his squad; find out what’s been going on, if we’re any closer to a resolution to this thing.
But most importantly, I want to see Felix. I just want to look at him, to verify for myself that he’s okay. Even just hearing his voice on the phone felt like my heart was ballooning in my chest. I never knew I could feel such unhinged things for another person…
The desire to smash this place to rubble for him has been more of a torment than anything those assholes did to me.
I need to hold him again. I think I’d do just about anything to make that happen. Anything but risk our safety. Not when we’re this close.
I won’t be the thing that keeps us apart permanently.
Sudden footsteps approach, clomping but light, which means it’s probably them. Still, I stay hidden in the shadows just in case, until I hear a whistle, and finally, I allow myself to breathe. And smile.
“Officer Jameson,” I sigh rushing up to the gate as Joy swings up to the bars.
“Glad to know you’re still with us.” She grins.
She looks exhausted, but nowhere near as bad as I probably look, based on the sympathetic shine in her eyes.
Officer Samuels is with her, rifling through a bag on the ground. I glance behind them, but I don’t see…
“Felix?” My tone is bordering on manic.
“He’s waiting nearby with Kemper,” Joy tells me while Rook takes a blowtorch and a hatchet out of the bag. “It’s not safe for him to be just standing around out here. They really have it out for him…”
I nod in agreement, jittering where I stand. “But he’s… okay? Like, he’s not hurt or anything?”
“I wouldn’t even be able to tell, honestly,” she huffs.
“Neither would he,” Rook rumbles, smirking. “I never thought I’d say this, but The Carver is my hero right now.”
I have to chuckle, slapping my hand over my heart. I’m overjoyed to hear that Felix is okay. That he hasn’t been captured or suffered any severe injuries.
“Alright, stand back,” Rook directs, and we both move away from the gate.
He uses an acetylene torch on the lock, heating it until it’s glowing. Then Joy gives it one good whack with the hatchet, breaking it right off.
She and Rook share relieved breaths and grins, pushing the rusty old door open with a creak. Rather than my running out, they grab their stuff and shuffle inside, Joy whistling as they do.
It takes barely fifteen seconds for Felix to come barreling over the small hill.
If I’m dreaming right now, I’m going to be furious.
“Thank fuck you’re okay.” He lunges at me.
“Baby…” Is all I can whimper as I catch him, squeezing onto him for dear life.
I’m holding his body so hard I might break him. But I think he’s proven that he’s unbreakable at this point. He’s a million times stronger than I ever gave him credit for, and for that, I feel like a total asshole.
That I ever thought his emotions could make him weak is absurd. I can see now how wrong I was.
He’s not just a beautiful psycho who lacks impulse control. He’s not a fascinating creature that deserves to be trapped under glass and studied. Simply observing him in a cage means you’d never get to watch him in action.
He doesn’t need to be protected. Circumstance had nothing to do with Felix Darcey’s ability to fuck shit up.
“Shh… it’s okay, baby.” I rock him gently while he sniffles. I can feel him allowing himself to break down, likely for the first time in weeks. “I’m here. You came back for me, just like I knew you would.”
Pressure is building inside my face, and I can’t help it. This was the closest I’ve come to giving up since I was fourteen, and I awoke in the dark with rope around my neck and wrists.
In many ways, this was worse. I’m a grown-ass man now, and I couldn’t get myself out of it.
But none of that matters right now. Because I’m back with my Carver, holding his perfectly solid body to mine while he presses soft, trembling kisses on my neck.
“I’m so s-sorry, Lemuel,” he whines, raspy with emotion. “That I didn’t get to you sooner…”