Chapter Thirty-Six #2
“That was your biggest mistake, Jonathan,” he rumbles. “Assuming that simply chewing yourself free of your leash would make you king. You’re still my pet, and a guard dog will never be king.”
Velle is quiet for a moment, just staring down at el diablo. “After everything…” His voice has taken on a slightly vulnerable lilt before he clears it away. “Why are you doing this?”
The Ivory stands, slowly rising to his feet until their faces are a breath apart. “You did this, and you know that.”
Velle’s eyes are wide, glittering ocean blue. “You’ve never wanted me to be happy…”
“Happiness is an illusion, my pet.” He reaches out to brush long fingers through Velle’s hair, like he used to. Like I’ve watched him do so many times; late at night, cigar smoke in the air and his obedient pet at his feet.
But this time, Velle yanks away, and snarls, “If you really think that… I feel sorry for you.”
In a flash, Ivory goes dark, wrath framing his cold, razor-sharp features. “You will learn the meaning of loyalty, Jonathan. Beating it into you simply doesn’t work. So stuffing your face in your own shit it is.”
Witnessing that blasé exterior, barely concealing his menacing motives, has always been nerve-racking, especially up close. Like if the ice cream man gave you your treat, then unhinged his jaw and chomped your head off.
Velle remains squared up, unmoving as he hisses, “After what you did to my mother… that you even have the nerve to spout bullshit about loyalty to me is laughable.”
And now Diablo is visibly teeming. I think he’s actually turning red. “Don’t bring that up again. I told you I didn’t—”
“I’m done listening to your lies,” Velle grunts.
“You’re a master manipulator, Manuel. It took me a long fucking time to see the truth, but I broke free from those chains.
Tammy gave that to me. Clarity. I deserve more.
” He backs up, shaking his head. “So do your worst. But just remember… your dog’s bite is a bitch. ”
Velle turns and saunters away. I can see The Ivory simmering, and if it were anyone else on the planet—except maybe me—I’m sure he would use that knife he stole and surgically remove the obstinate mass from his domain.
But with Velle, it’s like he can’t… Something about him is inoperable.
John Chevelle is as deeply embedded in The Ivory as The Ivory is in him.
I wish I understood it. It’s been the single most vexing part of everything I’ve learned on this island. Not knowing why… If it’s just the history they share, or if it’s more than that.
“Thanks for stopping by, Jonathan,” Ivory snaps after him. “I do hope you enjoy your new position.”
The Ivory pulls something out of his pocket. I bite my lip as he whips open my father’s knife, flinching when he roars and stabs it into his desk. Leaving the blade in the wood, he storms off.
Despite the tension in the air, I grin.
Gracias, Diablo.
Coming back to the prison was necessary.
I need to understand what these new guards are like, figure out their schedules, their habits, like I did with Velle and his team.
In theory, they’re doing the same things, they’re just far more sociopathic with it. They were seemingly hand-selected for this exact purpose; to come in, replace Team Velle, and make things a thousand times worse for the prisoners.
No-talking orders instituted and heavily enforced, violence as a recreational sport, overusing solitary and the East are just a few of their practices. The doctors are still in charge of the East Wing and all that goes on there, but the new guards seem to revel in sending inmates their way.
Velle and his squad have no authority anymore. They’re still working, mostly overnight shifts in solitary and the East, bringing food to the inmates there, attempting to keep some semblance of the control they’d once had in place. But it’s tough when they’re basically grunts.
On top of it being super awkward, it’s also made coming into the prison difficult for me, being that there are now double the bodies scuttling the halls.
I’ve been keeping my distance, but today I really needed to get eyes on the situation.
My hope was to use whatever Velle had planned as a distraction, so that when I’m ready to strike, I won’t be immediately surrounded by cartel men.
Unfortunately, I may have fucked up.
The moment I set foot inside the East Wing today, something feels off.
The cameras are following me right out the gate, and I’m moving much faster than I normally would, in an attempt to dodge them.
Pushing through a door, I stalk the connecting hall toward solitary.
But when I get to the end, the door won’t open.
I’m pressing and pressing on it, but it just won’t budge.
Shit…
Turning around, I head back. But now the door I just came through won’t open either. My heart is galloping in an instant, sweat breaking out across my forehead.
I’m trapped.
Fuck.
Fuck fuck fuck.
All I can do is wait behind the door for it to whip open, then hopefully escape whoever comes through and make a run for it. But I startle when the door at the other end of the hall opens, and a cartel officer strides through. Lips sloped into a wicked smirk, he comes right for me.
“What do we have here?” He growls, crowding me into the corner.
Peering up at the camera, aimed directly at me, I can almost feel an apology coming through it, from whoever has been helping me until now.
It’s okay… it’s not your fault.
I knew this would happen, eventually.
The large guard towers over me, taking my chin in his fingers. “Hm? A stray kitten?”
I’m shaking, jaw clamped as I glance at the name tag on his uniform.
Officer Zaza.
Subtly, my fingers slink between us to toy with his belt. “Don’t be mad, Officer… I’m sure we can work something out.”
I bite my lip, fluttering my lashes up at his face while my hand sinks lower, and the other reaches for the knife I have tucked into the waist of my panties.
His smirk widens, and for a shining moment, I think I’ve got him. This weak man won’t be able to resist a pretty girl touching his dick… And then I’ll stab the fuck out of him and bounce.
Go straight for The Ivory, like I probably should have done from the jump.
But then Officer fuckin Zaza leans over my face and hums, “Nice try, princess.”
And before I can react, I’m blanketed in a sudden zap of searing tingles. Blinding pain sizzling throughout my body from the taser he has pressed into my side.
My knees buckle, every muscle seizing while I slump between him and the wall. The only thing I can hear is him chuckling while my pulse pounds in my skull and he hoists me over his shoulder. Carrying me through the door that opens instantly for him.
The pain is completely overpowering, but I push past it enough to fight as best I can, squirming against his hold. And just like I didn’t see him reaching for his taser, I don’t see him pulling a syringe from his holster until it’s too late.
And it’s being stuck into my ass cheek.
“N-no… wait,” I try to speak as darkness steals me. “You d-don’t… understand. I’m…”
Angel.
But the words don’t make it.
I’m Angel Alvarez.