Chapter Fifty #4
“You can’t just slink away in the middle of the night,” he grunts. “We have logistics to discuss…”
My brow arches. “Logistics?”
“Well, for one, you’ve been paying us all these years.” He crosses his arms. “We’ve grown accustomed to a certain standard of living.”
“Oh, Jonathan… You really are my protégé, aren’t you?
” I chuckle, shaking my head. “Yes, I will keep paying for everything. Whatever you need. The bank of Ivory is officially open.” I gesture to the rest of them.
“Anyone else need anything while we’re at it?
Dascha, a new street bike? Warren? Some new jockstraps, or something… Name your price.”
At first, I’m sure they think I’m joking. But when I continue to stare expectantly, they share collective looks with their partners.
“We already have rich friends who have been throwing money at us,” Luthor huffs.
“Shhh!” Ren scolds. “You can never have too many rich people offering to buy you stuff. I want a boat.”
“You can have the yacht.” I shrug.
We won’t be needing it where we’re going.
“Hell no, he can’t,” Jonathan snaps. “The yacht stays here.”
“I want my own boat,” Ren says. “In California, where we currently live.”
They made it to California on a tender?!
Wait, no. That doesn’t make any sense.
Luthor pulls a queasy face. “Babe, I don’t know about boats… I already wasn’t crazy about them before we almost died on one.”
“I will say that lesson one is don’t get on one during a storm without lifejackets or oars,” I sneer.
Ren squints at me. “Fine, no boat. I’ll take a Lambo. Lime green, with suicide doors.”
I shake my head. “Tell you what, when you get your driver’s license, I’ll buy you a car.”
He beams. “Thanks, Mask Daddy.”
I gesture a salutation while Luthor frowns, and the others appear confused and disturbed.
“I’m wondering if there’s anyone on this island you haven’t fooled around with,” Velle admonishes the firestarter.
A few of them raise their hands. But it isn’t many at all.
Angel tugs my shirt. “When did you sleep with Ren?”
“Proxy, baby,” I whisper to him, and he nods.
“Ah. Right.”
“Excuse me!” Ren snaps. “You can’t have that. It’s mine.”
“Oh, please, child. Sit down, the grown-ups are talking.” I give him a pointed look. “I’ve been proxying since before you burned down my club.”
Ren gasps, pointing at Angel. “That’s where I know you from!”
Angel shifts.
“Um, babe… why didn’t you raise your hand?” Dash asks Kellan, suspicion on his face.
Kellan is squirming, guilt in his shifty eyes. “I mean, we never hooked up…” He peeks at Ren. “But he cornered me once, before I knew you. And kinda… touched it.” Dash gasps. “For like a split second! Then I freaked out and bolted.”
“You whore,” Dash chides Ren.
“You’re one to talk! You made out with my fiancé!” Ren exclaims.
Luthor covers his face. “It wasn’t like that, and we really don’t need to talk about this right now.”
“I was in psychosis… I would’ve made out with a cactus,” Dash grunts.
“Thanks, bestie,” Luthor deadpans.
Dash frowns over a smirk. “Sorry.”
“This is highly entertaining,” I chuckle.
They all glare at me.
“Oh… is it? Entertaining, hm?” Ren pops his hip out.
Angel stiffens at my side.
“Please… Ren,” Dascha whines. “This is super awkward. My dad is here…”
Alexander just appears lost.
“No, I want him to know,” Ren snaps. “The Ivory, not your dad. Papa Reznikov, cover your ears.”
Alexander’s mouth falls open, but he still looks like he doesn’t understand a word anyone’s saying.
Byron jumps in, glaring at me, “Yea… Since he thinks dosing people with psychedelics and making them eat their friends’ asses out is fun.”
“Jesus fucking Christ…” Kemper bends at the waist while Dash simply fists Kemper’s shirt, face flushing crimson.
“I’m sorry, Byron,” I grumble. “But you weren’t drugged when you were under my desk with your mouth full of dick, were you?”
“That was you?!” Jonathan barks.
“Slut!” Ren appears positively thrilled.
Byron is steaming. “Dash fucked Angel!”
My heart stops.
It goes dead for a full second of shock that turns to devastation that turns to… our old pal, smoldering rage.
Yanking away from Angel, I glare down at him while he covers his face with his hands.
“Angelito… is this true?” I’m dizzy.
He nods.
So dizzy, I might collapse.
And now my scorching gaze is on Dascha Reznikov.
He looks miserable—not the way I’d expect someone to look if they were gloating, which clearly he isn’t.
I am furious, gutted, my mind running wild with questions, whipping up the craziest, most sordid assumptions, without having the facts.
Still, I know this wasn’t something Dascha did out of some rapacious desire for my Angel.
Seems more like another My Officer situation.
So, against my every reflex, I fight past the blinding jealousy and take a breath.
“Your Officer… I presume?” I growl at Dascha through clenched teeth.
He blinks wide hazel eyes at me, nodding fast.
I peer at Angel once more. “And what’s your excuse?”
Apprehensively, he peeks through his fingers and mumbles, “My bad?”
Jonathan cackles out loud, joined by Joy, and Rook, and Ren… Most of them are laughing at my expense again. Even Lemuel is giggling as if he’s loving this.
Angel purses his lips to expel the smirk while I shake my head.
“Oh my God, I love Angelito!” Ren preens.
“Hang on, so are you really saying you hooked up with every single one of your friends??” Kemper groans, blinking at his pink-haired playboy of a partner, rubbing his eyes.
“Baby, I thought it was you,” Dascha whines, hugging onto his waist.
“I love that excuse,” Ren chuckles.
“Yea, at least when he says it, it’s true,” Luthor grumbles.
“The unintentional proxy.” I nod. “That’s a tricky one. But still, rather effective in the art of distraction.”
“Um… you didn’t hook up with me,” Felix Darcey finally joins the chat.
He’s pouting, the poor thing. It’s as adorable as it is sad.
“Aw, man… I’m sorry, love,” Dash finally breaks a chuckle, pouting over it while he hugs Felix. “We were only in the same room once in the Pen. I promise that’s why. Otherwise, I would’ve been all over you.”
“Dascha,” Kemper snaps, and he flinches.
“Sorry. Unintentional proxy, babe.” He bats his lashes at Kellan’s face.
“I knew I should’ve trademarked that shit,” Ren mutters.
“You didn’t invent it,” I grumble at him again.
“Don’t worry. It was totally circumstantial,” Byron says to Felix.
“Yea, and Dash was in solitary nailing Angel while we were having our threesome,” Ren sneers. “So he was left out of that one. Although I’d say he got his fill.” The arsonist smirks wickedly at me. “Alex, darling, can we pull up that footage?”
“Please leave me out of this,” Carson mumbles, likely noting that the vein in my forehead is about to pop.
“Uh… I am going to wait outside,” Alexander says, tone dripping with discomfort. “Dascha, can we please talk when all of this is over?”
“Yea, sure, fine. Just please…” Dash waves him off. “You’ve already heard way too much.”
Alexander grunts a noise of agreement, hightailing it back out into the woods.
“There aren’t really… recordings,” Angel asks me on a horrified gulp. “Of inside the cells… are there?”
“Not in solitary or gen-pop,” Jonathan answers for me. “So all of you sluts are good. But anything you did in the East… that’s another story.”
I fake a cough to cover up the word, “Ultrasound.” Sneering at Felix and Lemuel.
Felix immediately turns red while Lemuel glares at me.
“Is it weird that I like Uncle Ivory contributing to our slutty madness?” Ren sighs dreamily, grinning at me.
I think I’m just delirious, but I’m having fun teasing with them, too.
Or maybe it’s just distracting from the jealous rage.
Dash peeks at me. “I have a lot to discuss with my father, I guess. But for right now…” He pouts at his friends. “You guys had a threesome without me??”
Luthor’s mouth hangs agape as he looks between Ren and Byron, shrugging.
“Well, we’re all here now,” Ren croons, wiggling his brows.
Kemper shields Dash with his body.
“Okay, we’ve gotten way the hell off-track here.” Jonathan rubs his eyes. “We were supposed to be talking island logistics and fucking money, not swapping whore stories.”
Hancock cackles. “Yo, that was good!”
Jonathan winks. “Thanks.”
“There will be time for all of that, King Velle,” I tell him with a sigh. “I still live in the mansion. The cartel is here. We’re not just going to take off in the middle of the night.”
He blinks, offering me a nod, shoulders dropping a bit as he visibly relaxes, maybe for the first time in weeks. And I feel it myself.
It’s finally over.
“You’re right,” he says with a grin. “We won the war. It’s time to celebrate.”
The guards whoop and cheer, many of the others joining in. They haven’t gotten rowdy in a while. I’d say they’re due for one last purge. On-island this time.
Breathing out of relief myself, I glance down at my little bird, lifting a brow.
“You are so lucky I’m trying to be a better person right now, pajarito,” I seethe, though I’m too happy to be fully enraged; a baffling concept.
“Gracias,” he murmurs sweetly, playing with my hair and kissing my jaw. “It was an accident, I swear.”
“Right, just remember those body parts I brought you,” I grumble, peeking at Dascha. “And I happen to believe that for him it was an accident.”
“Totally was,” Dash breathes.
“But I also believe… that Cam Linetti is still out there,” I grunt.
Angel’s face drops. A few of the others who overheard look confused.
“He’s the last on my list…” I smirk. “Since I’m turning over a new leaf, I won’t kill him.”
Angel exhales, relieved.
“That said… If you’re interested in one last Quiet Night,” I call to Byron, whose eyes light up. “I’d like to place a bet. Two-hundred and fifty thousand on Byron Kang to beat Cam Linetti.”
“Whoa, really??” Trevel gasps.
I nod animatedly. Byron’s lips quirk.
Stepping over, I drop a hand onto his shoulder. “You’re not dead, Byron. There was never an arrest on you, so there was never any need for a report. You’re still alive, Shadowman. Get out and live. You deserve it.”
He pins me with an appreciative look.
“You all do,” I address the lot of them. “So anything you need from me, you can have, under one condition.” They stare back at me. “You never take your freedom for granted.”
They’re all smiles, and nods, and murmuring cheers of acceptance. But most importantly, victory.
Sighing out one last breath, I grin at my little bird. “Alright, then. I’ll go get Cam.”
Laughter booms as Byron cracks his neck.