Chapter Forty-Five
Lately, I’ve been doing something I never do. Something I’m not sure I’ve ever done, over the course of my entire life.
I’m wondering about the future. Thinking about what a future for someone like me might look like. What it even could look like.
I’ve always lived life day by day. Focused expressly on each moment, driven toward an ultimate goal. But I never actually thought about what life would be like after I achieved that goal.
I guess that’s a sign of emotional immaturity. Or it speaks to my upbringing, having no stable home life, and no adult or authority figures guiding me.
I should have been considering what would happen after I killed The Ivory…
I used to tell myself it didn’t matter. That killing him would likely get me killed, so the future was irrelevant, since I might not even have one; like a suicide mission, in a way.
But that one-track mind, obsession over the revenge and nothing more, was an excuse. Because I think the reason I never thought about my future after killing The Ivory is that, on some level, I knew I was never going to do it.
Envisioning a future for me was acknowledging that I’d been lying to myself… And without Manuel Blanco, I had no fucking clue who I was.
Angel Alvarez is like a tulpa, brought into existence by the intense anguish of that little boy on the floor of the closet, and the hatred that spawned from the following years, when he was forced to grow up alone. All because of one man…
Without him, I don’t exist.
And it’s still true, even now. Even after the way things have changed so detrimentally between us.
How can I picture a future without The Ivory when there is no me without him?
So instead, I’m imagining a future… with him.
It’s fucking crazy, I know that. There are no misconceptions about how pathetic I’d probably seem to people on the outside. But the thing is that I see a side of The Ivory that no one else does.
Sure, he’s still an evil narcissist, and despite his vast understanding of the human mind, he can’t seem to figure out how to be a person. But in between the self-centered and avaricious behavior, the cruelty bordering on sociopathy, with me and me alone, there have been glimpses of someone real.
Raw human emotions, and dare I say, vulnerabilities, hidden within the composition of this atrocious man.
It’s like panning for gold… You don’t just stumble upon a big bar of it out in nature.
You have to sit there, hunched over and scouring through water and sand and dirt just to find a teeny tiny speck.
But that speck is highly valuable. Hell, if you find even a few, you’re rich.
That’s how it feels to be me, falling into this unexpected, ill-advised relationship with Manuel Blanco.
But I can’t deny that I feel special… Being the only person in the world who’s gotten this far.
Who has been prosperous in gathering up those tiny flakes of shiny gold emotions; the glittering unrefined reality of this Daedalian man.
But then, I think about Velle… The only other person who’s gotten as close as this.
I’ve seen them interact when no one else was around. I’ve witnessed the connection firsthand. But unlike with me, Ivory has always been in pure possession mode with Velle. There has to be a reason…
Why the animosity? And if the situations really are the same, then what has stopped him from treating me the way he’s treated Velle?
What makes me so special?
And is it strong enough to bring us out of this cage?
I have no choice but to hope for it. Because I officially have nothing left.
My twin sister is dead. It’s still slaughtering me days later. I’m sure it’ll hurt for the rest of my life, but right now, I’m having a hard time wrapping my head around having no immediate family left.
On some level, I’ve felt for years that reuniting with Avianna was a lost cause. I knew it, but I still held out hope. I held onto the idea that someday I’d find her, and we would be back together again.
The harsh truth is that over the years, Avianna has become an abstract concept to me. I haven’t known her since we were three years old. That’s a long damn time… We’re not the same people we were when we were kids, not even close.
And yet, I know in my heart it wouldn’t have mattered. She’s my twin sister. We can go our entire lives without knowing each other, but that fact will never change.
Except that now she’s gone. And the flicker of hope in my chest has been snuffed out.
Even so, whether she’s gone or not, I can still feel her. I can’t explain it, but there’s always been this sensation inside of me, like a second beat to my heart… That’s Avianna.
I still feel it. It’s not gone… She’s not.
Maybe it’s because she’s been more dream than reality for so long. Maybe it’s because so long as I’m still breathing, she’ll live on through me.
“Or maybe it’s because of you,” I whisper to Avianna the sparrow.
Grinning, I watch her pecking at the pieces of croissant in my hand. She started coming inside my cell about a week ago, and in no time at all, she was landing on my fingers.
It’s kind of amazing. I’ve never had any pets, nor do I have any sort of training with birds. And the others don’t seem to care much about me. Although when Avianna started flying into my cell to get food, a few of them followed along.
Still, she’s the only one who comes to me more than the food. She’ll fly over and land on my shoulder while I’m reading, or sit on the nightstand and chirp at me in the morning.
It’s fucking weird, but also pretty cool. I can’t help feeling like a Disney princess. Snow White, Cinderella, or maybe Belle. Held captive and locked away. Alone all day and night, a slave to the evil King, or beast. No one but the animals to keep me company.
Making this comparison pleases me more than I want to admit.
Avianna the bird is literally my only friend. And as weird as it sounds, I like it. With her, I’m myself. Just like with Ivory… I don’t have to worry that they only like the version of me I’m portraying. The part I’m playing…
In this cage, I’m more myself than I’ve ever been before. Still, I can’t help wondering how much longer I’ll be stuck in here. And what life would look like outside of the cage.
“Do I even want to leave…?” I ask my sister sparrow. “I mean, what is there for me out there, anyway?”
She gives me a look, and my chin dips with my self-deprecating huff.
“I know, right? Hello, Stockholm Syndrome, nice to meet you.” I chuckle, observing her while she eats.
It reminds me of the symbol… The bird wrapped in barbed wire.
Ivory’s great aunt made that. That story he told me the other day hasn’t left my head—just like I haven’t taken the necklace of since. It was very damaging for my family, and it certainly scarred my memory of them…
Not that I ever even knew my abuelo. He died before Avia and I turned one. Still, something tells me my father knew about it. He knew about a lot of things that prove him not to have been the best guy.
And yet, here I am, harboring all of these crazy feelings for someone who’s just as bad.
The Ivory is no hero. He was right the other day; his putting an end to the child trafficking business wasn’t done expressly out of the kindness of his heart. He’s just an egotist, and his reputation is everything to him.
Unfortunately, I can’t help that part of me respects how unapologetic he is.
I wish I wasn’t attracted to so many things about him, the negatives and the positives, but I can’t help it.
I find it sexy the way he doesn’t give a single fuck how diabolical, maniacal, and downright malicious he is.
It makes his sweet, squishy moments even more endearing.
And the fact that he only shows his soft underbelly to me…?
Ugh, swoon.
“Maybe I am a fuckin THOT,” I sigh. “I just wish I knew what he was thinking… He’s impossible to read.”
Eyes following Avianna as she flutters over to the bars, they land on a shadowed frame, at the entrance of the alcove. My head tilts, and I stand slowly. I can’t make out who it is, but it’s definitely a person. They’re kind of just standing over there. Watching me.
“Ivory…?” I call.
He doesn’t answer. The figure takes a step forward, a stream of moonlight coming in from the skylight, illuminating the side of his face. A person I’ve never seen before…
Tall, pale complexion and black hair. He’s gets within about ten feet, and I catch the shimmer of violet eyes…
But sudden distinct footsteps in the garden spook him, and he scurries between the trees.
The clacking of dress shoes brings the familiar buzz of zeal I get every time he returns. My gut twists and flips in excitement, and I’m instantly shivering with anticipation.
I can’t fathom it, this reaction I’ve always had to him. I still feel stupid for being drawn to him in such a visceral way. But after the last few weeks, after everything we’ve done together, I don’t think either of us can deny this any longer.
We’re in a relationship. The nature of it is still up in the air, but it’s there.
I think The Ivory is my… boyfriend.
?Dios, qué me pasa?
Ivory doesn’t stop. He unlocks the cell and strides inside without a word, rushed and a bit jittery. As soon as he’s within a few feet, I can see that he’s exhausted. Visibly stressed, white hair all tousled, tie loosened, five o’clock shadow overgrown by a couple of days.
It’s so interesting how he apparently grows this dirty blonde facial hair. Not dark, but still much darker than his hair and eyebrows. He also has these long, dark eyelashes, and it has me reeling from the idiosyncrasy of this person.
He’s a true rarity. One in a Million.
No greetings or explanations. He’s just on me. Fast and greedier than usual, he kisses me, gripping my jaw to hold me in place. And I’m just clutching fistfuls of his shirt at his sides, hanging on for dear life while this rocket ship blasts off before I’m even strapped in.