Chapter Forty-Five #4
See? I can’t even tell if we’re about to strangle each other or make out! It’s too convoluted.
“Well, for starters you could stop being such a giant gaping asshole…” I sigh.
He snorts, covering it up quick. “Not an option. What else you got?”
Taking a breath, I step closer. “Listen, you’re going to have to get over that stuff… What I did when I first got here.”
I gulp down the remorse, and the mild fear, from how he’s looking at me.
Like he’s so angry he could tear this entire cage apart with his bare hands.
But also hurt, and jealous. And I think the anger is just a mask to cover up those things.
It’s camouflage. He’s never allowed himself to be vulnerable. If he even knows how.
“Oh, do I?” He seethes, gaze narrowed. “Do I have to get over it, pajarito?”
“If you want this to work… then yes,” I say firmly.
“What makes you think I want this to work?” He snaps, petulantly.
I give him a wounded look and regret flashes in his eyes. It pisses me off more than anything. Because clearly he knows how to feel… The other night, he was almost a completely different person.
This Dr. Jekyll, Mr. Hyde shit is gonna drive me off the edge.
“Admit that I’m not just a pet,” I growl.
He rolls his eyes. “Dios, I’ve already said it before, and I hate repeating myself.”
“No, you haven—”
“I still haven’t heard a fucking apology from your lips, by the way,” he grunts. “That’d be a start, at least—”
“I’m not going to apologize because I’m not sorry,” I mutter.
Okay, he looks like he’s about to explode…
“I’m sorry you’re upset, but I didn’t belong to you, Diablo.
” His eye is twitching, so I quickly add, “Not then. And I mean, you were going to let me stab you to death… How is that acceptable, but having meaningless sex before we even started hooking up isn’t? ”
He glares even harder, teeming, “You have always been mine, Angel.”
I scoff and rub my eyes.
Jesus, he’s exhausting. It’s like arguing science with an Evangelical Christian.
“So you’re saying you’ve never slept with anyone who isn’t me?” I laugh incredulously. “Come on, Ivory. You can’t possibly be that hypocritical…”
“Ha!” He barks. “Who do you think you’re talking to, chico?? I think the real question is why do you keep expecting me to be anything other than a total fucking nightmare??”
I blink at him, mouth agape.
Well, he’s got me there.
“What the fuck do you want me to say, then?? Fuck, I’m sorry I screwed a whole slew of random people, Diablo.” My tone is dripping with sarcasm. “Being slutty is fun when you have nothing but revenge to live for…”
Something about that softens his features just a tad.
I fold my arms over my chest. “Now you can apologize for fucking your assistant, and Ren, and Soren… and Velle.”
His eyes widen, as if I just spoke into existence he who shall not be named. It’s almost comical. I’m trying hard not to laugh, since that’ll probably send him tumbling right over the edge into full-blown madness.
“That’s it.” He turns, leaving the cage with a slam of the bars, and storms away.
Did he really just leave?? Who ends an argument by walking away?!
I can’t help but notice that he didn’t lock the door. But I’m too pissed off and frustrated and dejected to even think about escaping.
Because I don’t want to escape right now… All I wanted was to cuddle with him, the big raging jerk-face! Why doesn’t he understand that??
Pacing in circles for minutes is doing nothing to calm me down. I can’t understand why he would just leave like that. And why he wouldn’t lock the door… Is it some kind of test?
After ten minutes of fuming, I creep to the door, peering through the bars. Maybe he wants me to go find him? Seems immature as hell, but also not beyond the realm of his manipulative mind games.
I’m about to open the door when I hear him stomping his grouchy psycho ass back. An idiotic wave of relief rushes over me, until he comes into view. He looks just as angry as before, but even more menacing, if that’s possible. And he’s carrying something…
My eyes widen, practically bulging out of their sockets. I back up as he whips open the door and tosses it at me.
A human head.
He just threw a human fucking head at me.
What the bitch??!
It lands on the floor by my feet with a thud and rolls a few inches. I’m just gaping at it in severe shock and morbid bewilderment.
Gaze slowly lifting to his face, I find him huffing and puffing, like he just ran somewhere to get that. I mean, it’s obviously far from fresh…
It smells like utter shit and is completely unrecognizable as any person I’ve ever met.
I have to gulp. That’s not… Velle. Is it?
The hair isn’t quite right, I don’t think…
“Who, um…” I croak, stepping away from it before I vomit. “Whose head is that, Diablo?”
A blasé expression rests on his face as he chirps, “Nestor.”
Um… Come again for lil bird??
I feel like I’ve been paused. Everything about me is just blank.
“Oh, and these…” He reaches into his pocket, pulling out some more items I have a feeling are going to disgust me further, tossing them onto the floor by the head, “belong to Soto and Reyes.”
Against my better judgment, I glance down. Two fingers, and an eyeball.
Lindo.
“Dios mio, I’m gonna be sick,” I gag, stumbling away. “Why would you bring them here?!”
“Gifts, pajarito,” he says pleasantly, smirking like the true psychopath he is. “Para ti.”
“And why would I want these?” I frown, trying real hard not to look at them.
“Because I need you to understand that I’m not just bullshitting here, Angelito. I will kill anyone who touches you, and in case you thought I was exaggerating, here are the pieces of their rotting flesh to prove it.”
I’m staring at him, just gawking at the raving madman I’ve been sleeping with.
Somehow I manage to mumble, “I didn’t think you were exaggerating…”
“Now, this rule went into effect the moment you set foot on this island,” he goes on, ignoring me.
“Only because I don’t have time to track down every puta who’s ever put his dick near you…
At least, not right now. But understand that I have my sights on Cam Linetti to complete this body part collage.
Which piece of him do you want to show how serious I am?
Nose? Tongue? Maybe his little pickled polla? ?”
Da fuq??!
A squeak flees my lips. But that’s about it. I wouldn’t know how to respond to that if I had years to prepare a statement.
Stepping over the head, he strides up to me, gaze sharp. “Entiendes, pajarito? I need you to fully comprehend the magnitude of this… How mine you are.”
My brain is congested. I’m running through faces, people I hooked up with here, as Ari. Nestor was a bad idea, sure. But he was invaluable in getting me into the prison.
Lo siento, dude…
Soto and Reyes, I barely remember by name. I’m guessing they were the guards who spit-roasted me in the library when I was still pretty new.
Yea, that was fun. Sorry not sorry.
But now he’s telling me he’s out for Linetti’s blood next, and I feel bad.
Jesus…
Oh fuck, does he know about Dash?!
No. He couldn’t.
No one knows about that.
Thank God Dash isn’t here. Hopefully, he stays far away.
It’s insanely frustrating how hypocritical he’s being about this. I mean, does he expect me to run around decapitating the people he’s slept with? Honestly, I just don’t care enough. The way I see it, we need to actually admit what the fuck we are before I start behaving like a jealous maniac.
That said, I do have this yucky feeling in my stomach when I think about him being with anyone else now. I suppose he feels like that, only a million times stronger.
Still, that’s no excuse to slut-shame me by slaughtering people I slept with, making me feel like my holes are cursed.
More than anything, though, I thoroughly despise how some twisted part of me is charmed by it. Making goddamn excuses for his horrendous behavior.
All like Ed Gein was just misunderstood! Really, his mother was the problem.
That bitches sending pictures of their titties to Richard Ramirez in prison type shit.
Jesus, it’s the cage decor all over again.
Things that should repulse and enrage me are making me warm and fuzzy inside, and it’s psychotic.
I feel like he’s turning me into a deranged fucking weirdo.
“Diablo…” I gulp, shaking my head. “You’re being crazy.”
His brow cocks. “Uh-huh.”
“Please…” I attempt to compose myself, pulling an AT&T customer service voice out of my ass. “I’m going to insist that you remove these body parts from my room immediately. They smell like shit.”
He blinks, appearing a bit taken aback. As if he thought I was going to keep fighting him on this. His lips part, then they snap shut, and he clears his throat.
“Okay. Can do,” he rumbles.
“Good,” I breathe. “Thank you.”
“I’m, um… sorry.” It comes out like a question, and I all but melt into a pathetic puddle of delinquent slut juice.
Ugh, what is wrong with me? Why do I find it so cute when he does this demon attempting to behave like a person thing??
“I’m really tired,” I hum. “If you’ll recall, this whole fight started because I wanted you to spend the night… But if you’re gonna keep throwing body parts at me, then feel free to sleep in your own bed.”
A fully adorable growling giggle comes out of him, and I’m all but twirling my hair and batting my lashes.
Please, don’t kill me, Mr. Ghostface. I wanna be in the sequel!
“Well, maybe I can… stay,” he mumbles. “Just this time.”
A swarm of deranged butterflies awaken in my gut, and I want to punch them all to death, or swallow a can of Raid, or something.
Although… my reacting with patience, treating him like a child throwing a temper tantrum, did end up tipping that argument in my favor. Good to know.
That’ll be helpful for whatever future we might potentially maybe possibly someday have…
“Sure…” I reach up, brushing my fingers through his hair. “What are you gonna do with the… desecrated human remains?”
I bite my lip to hold back the grin, because it’s completely inappropriate.
Those are someone’s children… Dios perdóname.
But Ivory obviously isn’t affected by such things, because he snickers. “I’ll go throw them off the embankment behind the house.”
I sigh. “Fine.”
Leaning in, he ghosts his lips over mine. Deliberately keeping his hands at his sides, which has me grinning as I meet him in the middle. And we kiss, softly and sans biohazard fingers, drawing a hum from within his chest.
“I’ll be back in a minute,” he purrs on my mouth.
“Please wash your hands,” I whisper, and he chuckles. “And throw those pants away. Just toss the whole outfit, actually. It’s severely contaminated.”
“I didn’t take you for a germaphobe, baby bird.” He smirks.
“Uh, I’m not.” I give him a look, and he cackles.
Ivory spins away, collecting the head, and the fingers, and the eye, leaving to throw them away, smiling all the while. Like he is smitten, despite how much he keeps fighting it. And I can’t stop shaking my head, and biting my lip… Because I think it’s abundantly clear that I am too.
Was that a villain’s love declaration… or have I just been trapped in this cage for way too long?