Chapter Fifty #3
Sucking in a deep breath, I focus on regaining my composure, because I really feel like getting all worked up is only proving his point further. And he’s already looking exceedingly smug right now.
“Oh my God, he’s crushin’ hard!” Hancock cackles.
“For real,” Jasper gasps, grinning. “Turns out there is a person in there… and he’s got I heart Velle tattooed on his ass.”
“Right next to your mom’s name,” I grumble under my breath.
“I have to say, this is satisfying as fuck,” Jonathan sighs, looking me up and down. “You know, you could’ve just bought me flowers instead of, you know, making my life miserable.”
I know he’s teasing, for the most part, but there’s some truth to that last bit, and it stirs up remorse, and guilt, with the already flaring frustration.
I growl, “Oh, trust me, I could’ve done a lot worse—”
Jonathan leans in closer to my face, effectively cutting off my threat.
I can’t help how my eyes widen. It just happens. I’m caught off-guard by his proximity for the first time in weeks.
“Heel, your highness,” he hums with a wicked curve to his lips.
And because I’m being cajoled into submission by my true love, I grit my teeth and back down.
“Sorry,” I grunt petulantly.
A few whoops and oh snap’s from the audience have me wincing.
Jonathan stares at me for a moment, losing a bit of the arrogance to his apparent fascination. Interesting, considering that I feel like from the outside, it was super obvious.
“Were you jealous of me and Joy?” He asks curiously.
“Yes,” I grumble.
“Is that why you wanted me to stop dating her?”
“Yes.”
“Is that why the parties started?”
“Yes…”
“Because I was easier to control that way?”
“Not just you…”
“Did you feel something when I kissed you?”
“Jonathan,” I teem, a warning croak before I fucking explode and strangle him to death.
He pouts. “Last one, I promise…”
“You look demented when you make that face,” I deadpan, and he grins, arching his studded brow. I sigh, exaggerated for effect. “Yea, I guess.”
He straightens and booms, “Boo-yah! Uh! Suck it!”
And now he’s dancing. Lovely.
“Ooh, fuck yea, I call that a win, Daddy!” He cheers for himself, doing a circle around the room, high-fiving everyone like he just got called up to play The Price Is Right, while they all laugh and applaud like fucking morons.
And I’m just standing here, forcing away the part of me that wants to grin, because it’s cute, and I do feel slightly better having admitted this to him.
But I’ll murder anyone who asks me about it.
Angel is giggling. When his eyes meet mine, I wink and he bites his lip.
I’m doing this for you, pajarito.
I hope this just goes to show how much I’m willing to endure for him. Because while everything I’ve said is true, I know that those feelings for my protégé were a light drizzle in comparison to the category five hurricane that is my love for Angel Alvarez.
Jonathan finally calms down, and I give him a look, one that not long ago would have snapped him into submission. But now, he just blinks at me, grin smoothing out in some appreciation that I’m not sure I fully understand.
By all accounts, he should still hate me. I was purely awful to him over the years, because beating him like a disobedient dog was how I dealt with my feelings, and there are just… so many more acceptable options for doing that.
Unless… he liked it too?
I think I know the answer, but this isn’t about me getting closure. This is for him.
“You know, I remember things,” Jonathan breathes. My head cocks. “I have so many stories, from times when you were normal. When we’d sit around your office, or walk through the garden and just talk. If these people knew that side of you, it’d probably be easier for them to forgive you…”
“Well, you were my first, Jonathan,” I tell him deliberately. “You were the start, and if there’s one thing I can say in my defense…” I glance at the rest of them. “It was never supposed to come to this…”
I clear my throat. “So, in that spirit… Who else has grievances?” I clap, rubbing my hands together in preparation for what will undoubtedly be a long and grueling process. “Let’s do this. Speak now or forever hold your peace.”
They all look around at one another, as if they didn’t expect to get a turn. Some commotion outside distracts us, and all heads turn when Alexander Reznikov comes trudging through the doorway.
“Oh, wonderful,” I mumble. “Perfect timing… Kellan and Dascha, I think this is a sign. You’re up.”
Kemper doesn’t appear as angry as he was a moment ago. Now, he’s more focused on rubbing his partner’s back, clinging to him in a way that tells me our darling bank robber might not be feeling too well.
“Dascha,” Alexander breathes ragged, stalking over to his son. “Are you alright?”
Dash’s lips part, eyes wide, yet tired. He looks like he’s been through the wringer, and I feel bad.
I actually do! How about that…
“Um… I’m… f-fine,” he sniffs.
Alexander produces a pill bottle from within his pocket. “I found these…” He gives them to his son. “I thought you might… need them.”
Dash peers up at his father, appearing so young in this moment. “Thank you.”
He instantly pops two, his eager partner snatching the nearest bottle of water for him.
Kellan glares from Alexander to me. “We don’t have to do this now…”
“Okay, well, just know that the thing with Byron was an… isolated occurrence.” I swallow, peeking at Byron. “For both of your benefit. Not mine.”
Byron is gawking at me. “How on earth do you figure that was for me?”
“Michelangelo,” I hum pointedly, and realization dawns visibly. “And your Officer Kemper,” I say to Dash, whose lashes flutter.
“Hang on, so exactly how much have you meddled in all of our relationships?” Ren chimes in.
“There’s no way for me to quantify that,” I grumble.
“Ballpark,” Lexington hisses.
“A lot, okay?” I breathe.
“Why?” Simon squints at me.
“Because it was fun,” I grunt. “Imagine a video game, or like a live-action movie playing out in front of your face that you can control, like one of those Choose Your Own Adventure books. It was entertaining as hell.”
“But these are our lives you’re playing with,” Trevel says, with a hand on Byron’s back. “It’s not a bloody game.”
“Yes, I realize that, but look at it this way… Without banding together to defeat a common enemy, would you all have teamed up? Squashed your beef, and become this team I’m seeing right now?
” I look between Felix and Lemuel, and Byron and Trevel specifically.
“The same way that I brought you all together, I brought you back together. And everything I did, every test, every trial and tribulation, it brought you to right here, and right fucking now. And right fucking now looks pretty awesome… Does it not?”
They’re all quiet for a few heavy seconds, and I can see them piecing it together. Searching for an instance of dispute, but coming up empty.
“For the times when things got out of hand… I apologize.” Turning to Lemuel, I gulp. “You have to know that I didn’t authorize Templeton’s actions.” My eyes fall to Felix. “I never would have signed off on something so egregious.”
“But you knew he was a sick fuck,” Lemuel barks. “You knew who he was—”
“As I’ve known who you all are.” I nod. “And the prisoners out there. None of you are good… Some worse than others, but that’s true of humanity as a whole. I would have dealt with Dr. Templeton if you hadn’t, and Johansson and Hassan were pawns. You need them to play… But they’re disposable.”
I look around the group. “You here in this room are the ones who win. The knights, the queens, the rooks…” I look from Joy, to Harley, to Jonathan.
“The king. You’re fighters, survivors. Once enemies, but now…
a family. And so, I can’t feel too bad about what I’ve done.
Some of it, but not all. Because out of the evil, you found good…
” I peek at Angel. “As I have. There is light to be found in even the darkest places. Each of you is evidence of that.”
Turning to my former second in command, I hum, “You are the real king of Alabaster Isle, Jonathan. You always have been.”
Reaching into my pocket, I pull out the skeleton key. His eyes round, all humor dissolving into shock and awe. It has me smirking as I place the key in his hand.
“The kingdom is yours now, Velle. Take care of her.”
“Holy fuck…” Joy gasps, and I chuckle.
“Oh my God, it’s like when Willy Wonka gives Charlie the chocolate factory!” Ren squeals.
“If this island is a chocolate factory to you, then I think we need to take you to, like, the M&M store, or Hershey’s or something,” Dascha murmurs.
Luthor and Felix laugh, crowding around him, hugging their friend, who seems to be feeling better already.
His gaze at me is still narrowed, bouncing to his father. I can tell he’s not quite sold on either of us, or the connection between us. But it’s fine. I don’t need any of them to love, or even like me. I just want them to understand how significant they are to the story of this island.
The history of Alabaster Isle is still being written, and it will continue on… thanks to them.
But my part in it has come to an end. And the sense of relief in that is palpable.
Taking Angel by the waist, I pull him into me, holding him close and kissing the silken strands of his hair. He peers up at me, smiling.
“It’s you and me now, pajarito.” I pluck his chin between my fingers. “I hope you’re ready…”
He beams. “I was born ready, Diablo.”
The group is chattering, laughing and marveling at King Jonathan, the victor, and his spoils. It would be a perfect time to slip away with my little bird, to discuss what’s next and deal with cartel business.
Oh, and hump each other lifeless. Of course, that’ll be what I’m driving toward.
Angel and I stride to the door, hand in hand, but Jonathan’s voice stops me.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hang on there, Ivory.”
I spin to give him an innocent look. No, I wasn’t just trying to sneak off and get laid.