Chapter Forty-Eight #2
“Stop lying!” I bellow, pointing the gun at his head. “You and I both know you did it! You passed down the orders to sell her shit with extra fentanyl, because you wanted me all to yourself! You wanted to hurt me, because it’s what you fucking do! Admit it!”
“No,” he quakes when I aim the gun back at Angel. “I didn’t! I won’t admit that, Jonathan, because I didn’t do it. I can prove it!”
“Yea, right,” I croak, shaking myself, with an infinitely potent wrath that’s covering up searing pain.
Pain I haven’t been able to fully deal with since my mother died. Because of him.
Because he won’t just admit it, and every breath he takes, living, is another knife in my back from someone who, despite everything, I never thought would hurt me that devastatingly.
That’s how na?ve I was… That no matter how badly he hurt me, I thought there had to be a line he wouldn’t cross. But it was just another manipulation.
“You played on my weaknesses,” I sniff, using every ounce of strength I have to keep from falling apart while thinking about how badly I failed my mother. “And the second you sensed me pulling away again, you hit me where you knew it would cripple me…”
“No…” He chokes, bending at the waist, eyes stuck on my finger on the trigger.
“Yes. But you fucked up, Manuel. Because Tammy’s death woke me up…
I only wish—” My voice cuts out in a tremor of emotion that I clear away.
“I only wish she hadn’t had to die for me to see the truth.
That you are just like that crumbled building over there.
Filled with so much misery. Torturing people for the fun of it…
But as menacing as you seem, all it takes is the right storm to reduce you to fucking rubble. ”
“I didn’t,” he gasps, dropping onto his knees in the dirt. “You have to believe me.”
My eyes go round at the sight of him, kneeling at my feet.
And maybe he’s kneeling for the kid, which I still don’t fucking understand. But it doesn’t matter, because the power is mine.
This is what I’ve been waiting over a decade for…
The Ivory, on his knees, begging for my fucking mercy.
It’s so heady it actually makes me dizzy for a moment. I’m suddenly so overwhelmed by what’s happening, I feel like I could pass out.
The weight of this situation is crushing me from the inside out. Cracking my ribs, making it hard to breathe.
Deep in the corners of my heart, there are still traces of his thorns. I hate it, loathe it with everything I have, but it’s a poison that never leaves your body, no matter how much you purge it from your veins with an antidote.
I want so badly to believe he wouldn’t have had Tammy killed… But I can’t.
I can’t trust him. He’s too skilled a liar, and still too good at manipulating me.
The only way to end this for good… is to kill him.
He has to die. It’s the only way we move on from here.
For the last time, I aim my rifle at his forehead. Finger ghosting over the trigger, I sniff, “Any last words?”
He sucks in a breath, letting it out slowly. He closes his eyes.
Then he presses his forehead harder into the barrel, speaking, “I’m sorry, Jonathan.
For every terrible thing I ever did to you, to everyone here…
I fully deserve to die by any of your hands.
But none more than you, and Angelito.” His eyes creep open to meet mine.
“I won’t admit to killing Tammy, because I didn’t, not directly…
” He pauses to take another shivery breath. “And yet, she is dead because of me.”
My jaw tics, finger tapping the trigger.
“I stopped my men from selling to her. Not right away. In fact, not until after you bothered me about it. I didn’t feel that it would…
solve anything. And I know you knew that too, deep down.
” He blinks while I simmer. “But I still did it for you. Because I have always, and will always, care deeply for you, Jonathan. I am evil, and selfish, but your mother’s death served no purpose for me, and you know that.
Because as you can see… it only drew you further away from me. ”
I don’t think my heart is even beating right now. I’m completely frozen in time.
“When I stopped selling to her, she bought from a rival dealer… Mexican cartel outcasts, looking to punish me. They were responsible for her death. So I killed them.”
Neither of us are blinking, gazes of blown pupils magnetized.
“I tracked down each and every one of them, and killed them slowly for what they’d done.
For… the permanent wedge they’d built between us.
That is what comes… Sangre por sangre…” His chin dips, and he shakes his head.
“It changed nothing. Tammy will always be gone, and it will always be my fault. So I am sorry, Jonathan… I’m sorry that my…
” He gulps over the word, “feelings for you got her killed. But I did not have her killed intentionally, and I just needed you to know that.”
I’m shaking so hard, I take my finger away from the trigger. Just long enough to breathe and attempt to compose myself.
But I can’t. Everything hurts. I’m aching everywhere. All I want to do is fall to the ground, but I refuse to let him do that to me.
Never again will I fall apart for him.
Peering at Angel, I find him staring between us, brows sewn together as if he’s also in pain. I’m sure he is… If he feels anywhere near what I’m feeling, I’m sure he’s in the same agony. Brought forth by the man on his knees.
Sniffing again, I blink through the pressure in my skull, aiming a glare laced with traces of my fury down at him. Daring myself to do it…
Just pull the fucking trigger and end this.
Kill him. Because he deserves to die, and you know that.
Taking the power back, being the one to do it would feel so good.
But the problem is that I’m afraid. Not of him… I don’t believe I ever was. It wasn’t about that.
I’m petrified that killing him won’t feel good. That it’ll feel bad; awful, pointless, and demoralizing. And then I’ll hate myself even more.
“Ugh!” I bellow, whipping the rifle away from him.
Panting, heaving for breath, I rub my eyes with my fingers. “Fuck you. Just… fuck you.”
The fact that I’m unable to just fucking do it is making me feel stupid, pathetic, and so goddamn weak. But I can’t help it.
I just can’t fucking do it. My body won’t respond.
“You deserve this!” I seethe, shaking my head. “And you know you do…”
He swallows, nodding.
“Blood for blood,” I growl.
And with those words, something sticks out in my brain.
Stuffing my hand into my pocket, I pull out the knife… The one I took from Angel.
Little bird…
Staring at it, a shower of calm cascades over me. I can feel weight lifting off my shoulders… The responsibility I’ve been carrying for all of this shit since Tammy died, setting off this chain of destruction.
“It’s not meant for me,” I whisper. My eyes meet obsidian irises. “You didn’t have my mother killed…?”
He shakes his head, and as much as I despise it… I can tell he isn’t lying.
Still, it changes nothing about where we are, as a result of who he is.
A giant, foreboding monstrosity of despair that needs to be fucking demolished before it can hurt anyone else.
“Well, you did kill his parents,” I rumble, nodding in Angel’s direction. “So vengeance… is his.”
Handing the knife to Angel, I hum, “I believe this belongs to you.”
His eyes stay hold mine briefly before falling to the weapon. He takes it slowly, looking it over. Running his thumb over the ivory handle, the initials AA, and the carving of the bird surrounded by barbed wire.
I don’t know what that symbolizes, but something tells me it’s significant… to both of them.
“May his death satisfy you,” I breathe to Angel Alvarez, stepping aside.
Giving my wrath, my revenge, my chaos and contempt… Just giving it over.
A breath of relief leaves me, with hundreds of pounds and so many years of suffering. Not just mine, but all of ours. The burden I’ve borne, the chains I’ve worn for every lost soul on this island… It’s all gone.
Reduced to rubble, we are free.
It’s over.
I fucking won.
The life and death of The Ivory now rests in the hands of the only one who truly deserves to hold it…
His little bird in barbed wire.