Chapter Thirty-Eight #3
I’d never admit it, but neither is mine.
If I’m being honest, the fall of the guard tower could be a win for them.
Snatching the walkie from Equino, I flip to our hidden channel. “Pedroia, está bien?”
“Bueno,” he chirps over the line almost immediately. “I’m fine. A little banged up, but I’m here.”
“Where?” I grumble, walking faster.
“Front entrance.”
“I’ll be there in a minute.” My gaze narrows. “What’s the damage?”
He’s quiet for a moment. “Good or bad news first?”
“Just fucking say it,” I growl. “I know they have the armory.”
“Si. They have men at the crash site too. Every time we get close, there’s bullets flying.”
How is that possible?? It’s been like fifteen minutes since I left there.
I take a deep breath before I blow a damn gasket.
“Inmates are loose,” he goes on. “I’m not sure if it’s from the storm or that device.”
God damn Lex Luthor…
I scoff. “What else?”
“We were trying to get to gen-pop to wrangle them and we got ambushed.”
My jaw is aching. “How many?”
“Four. Diaz, Lopez, Jales and Tex. They took shelter in the control room.”
My face snaps. “The workers are still in there?”
“Yea.”
A slow smirk tugs at my mouth. “I’ll see you in a minute.” Then I switch to another one of our hidden channels. “Carlito?”
“Jefe,” Carlos sighs. “Aqui.”
“You did good, soldado,” I praise.
Our youngest, the kid is only nineteen, but he’s good. Cunning, and he’s not afraid of shit. Exactly what I need right now.
“You understand you’re in it for the long haul, si?”
He breathes audibly then grunts, “Si. What do you need me to do?”
My grin widens. “Barricade the door. No one gets in or out of that room, entiendes?”
“Yes, sir.”
“I’m almost there. I’ll touch base after I’m done.”
“Bueno… Hey, Jefe?” He sort of stammers, and I’m quiet. “What… happened? To the prison?”
My face tilts to Equino, who shakes his head. They don’t know?
No, I suppose they wouldn’t if they’ve been stuck in the control room.
And with that knowledge, an opportunity for a morale boost presents itself.
“They did this,” I grunt. Equino’s eyes widen, and I wink. “Velle and his men. They’d been weakening the structure of the guard tower so that it would fall on the prison.”
“Que?? Putos locos…”
“I know, right?” I hum, dampening my amusement and forcing a scowl for show. “On top of that, I thought they were following my orders to oversee upkeep and maintenance inside the prison, but it turns out they weren’t having it done at all. For years.”
“Wow,” Carlos sighs.
“They wanted this to happen. They’ve been praying for Alabaster Pen to fall so they could take over… But we’re not gonna let that happen, are we, soldado?”
“Hell no,” he barks, and I beam. “But I mean… How are we going to stop them? We’re trapped in a room, and they have the armory.”
“You let me worry about that, darling. You just hold it down in there… Because you’re holding the key. The servers are not completely down, so it’s muy importante that you keep them all away from everything, si? Don’t let any of them near those servers, no matter what.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good boy.” We come up to the font entrance of the prison, and I see Pedroia looking frazzled. “Speak soon.”
“Gracia, Jefe.”
I toss the walkie at Equino, who’s just shuffling silently beside me. When I peek his way, I find him gawking at me in shock, and some mild horror.
“What?” I grunt, pulling the pistol from within my belt. “Jesus, you act like you’ve never seen someone lie as easy as breathing before.”
He doesn’t say shit—wisely.
From this side of the prison, the damage to the exterior is minimal.
But it’s still there, and once we get inside, we see the true extent of what’s happened…
The result of a storm that’s still raging, and years of wear and tear on a structure that was probably never strong enough to withstand even half of it.
There are so many layers to this thing. So many reasons why this happened. And despite the bullshit I’ve fed my men just now, there’s only one person at fault for the fall of Alabaster Penitentiary… Me.
I wish I felt bad about it, but I don’t.
Maybe next time, it’ll implode into fucking dust.
Rotting fucking shithole.
Storming inside the prison, I ignore Pedroia who’s trying to tell me things.
I didn’t come here to talk.
“Jefe, wait!” They all chase after me while I stride the halls, pistol in hand and determination in my every step. “It’s not safe…”
I simply scoff and shake my head, going straight for my office. The armory is right next to it, and if I know Jonathan the way I know that I do, he’ll be setting up his base of operations in my office, as one final fuck you to yours truly.
I make it to an adjoining corridor before I’m stopped by whispers. Taking cover behind a corner, I peer around it, listening closely.
“Come closer! I dare you,” someone shouts.
I recognize the voice immediately.
“Joshua… please,” I sigh, tucking my gun into my belt. “I’m coming out. Let’s talk.”
I’m using my best Daddy loves you, baby tone. I can feel it working in his silence, until he barks, “Can’t do it, Ivory. Time for talking is over.”
“You don’t wanna talk to me?” I pout.
He hesitates again. “No.”
He’s such a cream-filled softie, I swear.
“Hmm… alright. What about Alex?” I grin wickedly picturing the look on his face. “Do you want to talk to him? Because I can make that happen… Or, I can make it so he won’t be able to talk anymore. Your choice…”
I hear him grumbling curses while someone else tries to calm him down.
I walk my fingers along the wall, around the corner. Waving to the mirror they’re using to see into this hallway from around their corner. “Just a quick chat, love. How else am I supposed to know what you all want if you don’t tell me? I’m not a mind-reader—“
“Enough!” A new voice roars. And this one straightens my spine.
A sadistic twist of my lips gives way to the wrath buzzing all over my skin.
There you are, my pet.
“We gonna talk or what, Officer Daddy?” I sneer.
I hear him snarl before he grunts, “Just you.”
Without another word, I roll around the corner, traipsing up the hall. He steps around from his, stalking up to me slowly, fists balled at his sides.
We both stop, a foot of space between us. My eyes fall to what he’s clutching, brow arching in amusement.
“You wanna use those on me… Don’t you?” I tilt my head, lashes fluttering at his angry face.
He doesn’t speak. Just keeps glowering at me.
“Remember the night we met?” I sigh dreamily.
His gaze narrows. But I know he’s seeing what I’m seeing right now…
Me, cleaning the blood off of his hands, and those same brass knuckles.
“You’re exactly everything I need…”
“That was a long time ago,” Jonathan grunts.
I purse my lips. “Is that what this is about? You have grievances, my pet?” He’s practically baring his teeth. “You’d like a raise? Or some vacation time??” The amusement falls off of my face in an instant and I square up to him, putting us nose to nose. “You are such a bad dog.”
“Surrender,” he hums. “That’s the only way out of this.”
“Not much of a discussion,” I purr, pulling my weapon.
His eyes fall to it, but he doesn’t move. I press the barrel up to his chest.
“I could kill you right now,” I hum calmly.
He leans in, his lips hovering over mine. “Do it.”
An aggressive shiver runs through me, and it stiffens my muscles with rage. Because fuck him, and fuck this.
My finger ghosts over the trigger.
“Where’s the fun in that?” I chirp, tucking the gun back into my belt. “It was lovely talking with you, Jonathan. I have missed our chats.” I boop him on the nose with my fingertip. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, my pet.”
Spinning, I saunter away slowly, feeling his deep blue gaze on my back as I go. I’m enraged, but it’s at the point where the anger is so strong, it’s replaced by an odd sense of calm. A clarity you couldn’t see before, when the red was too red.
The moment I step around the corner, I hum to my men, “They want a fucking war… They’ve got one.”
On our way out of the prison, my satellite phone goes off.
“Yea,” I grunt, pausing outside the SUV when one of my guys holds up a finger, like something is off.
“Sir…” It’s Kent. “I thought I’d let you know that I’ve found Dr. Love, Trevel Fenwick and Byron Kang in the woods. I’m bringing them back to the mansion.”
Back?
I don’t even have time to think about that word. Because there’s a sudden commotion.
Bullets are popping off from the west, walkies chirping, voices hollering.
“What now…” I growl, a severe and potent irritation growing inside me with every second that passes on this goddamn island which, just like the people on it, can’t seem to remember its fucking place.
If I believed in karma, I’m sure I’d be reading into all this.
Good thing I don’t.
“Fuck all of this,” Pedroia grunts, whipping opening the door to the SUV. “I’m getting you out of here.”
I’m knee-jerk frustrated at being treated like some useless politician. I ain’t afraid of no bullets… I’ve been getting shot at for decades.
But then I remember that I am in charge here, and this good solider is just doing his job. Well, I might add.
So I nod, and hop into the car. “Worry not. I have a plan.”
The next thirty minutes are spent on the phone, making calls. Lots of them. Calling in any and all reinforcements I can get on such short notice. But in truth, this is what they do. They live to be on call.
The cartel is coming in, full force. They’ll bring over enough heavy artillery to wipe out an island much bigger than this one.
When his back is up against the wall, Jonathan will make his choice. They always do…
And then he’ll be mine again… Or he’ll be dead.
I’m good with either.