Chapter Fifty-One #2
They’re heading for Dash’s dad, who’s been sort of lingering around impatiently this whole time.
You can tell the guy is desperate to get out of here because this isn’t his scene—from what I understand, he’s more of a money-mover for the Russians in Las Vegas.
At the same time, he’s even more eager to speak to his son.
Regardless, I have my own shit to lock down right now. Like getting our wounded men the medical attention they need, narrowing down just how many casualties we have, and taking care of our dead.
Then figuring out what happens next… Big picture stuff.
There’s no crystal ball in the vicinity.
I’m having trouble seeing into the future right now, but at the very least, I’d like to know what The Ivory expects to do next, what we’re doing with the mansion…
Who’s staying and who’s going. If anyone’s coming for the goddamn Governor of New York who’s lying dead on the beach right now.
One of Ivory’s men rushes up with his satellite phone.
“Gracias, soldado,” he tells him. “Now, do me a favor and go load up the crates of beer and drive them down here.”
He winks at me while our team hoots and cheers at the prospect of some celebration. Finally.
“Where are they?” The guy asks.
“I’m pretty sure Kent left them on the ferry.” His face shifts into visible melancholy as the guy scurries off in the direction of the ferry docks.
Ivory swallows, clutching Angel to him, who’s frowning, brushing fingers through the tousled strands of his white hair.
“What happened?” Angel asks softly, though he seems as if he could guess.
“Kent’s gone.” Ivory clears his throat, looking to me. “Did you see what happened?”
Truth is, I didn’t see much. I was just trying not to get shot while riding my motorcycle through hostile terrain.
“He saved us,” Byron answers for me. “Russo’s men were shooting at us and he… he protected us. When he probably wasn’t supposed to…”
“No, he wasn’t,” Ivory huffs, chin dipped. “That was just him. He was a good man. He didn’t deserve to…” His voice trails, and he shakes himself out of it.
“Lo siento, baby,” Angel whispers.
Ivory looks down at him, eased just by his presence. It’s wild to witness.
This man I could’ve sworn had no heart, being… human. Feeling things, like empathy, sadness… love.
Never thought I’d see the day.
I turn in search of my two, reminded of how I just want, more than anything, to lie down with them, in our bed, for the first time in too long.
But Ivory’s voice catches me once more. “I have a lot of work to do…” He stares at me, brows raised expectantly. He’s almost pouting.
I scoff, shaking my head. “Shit, you’re like a dog with a bone.” He smirks while I sigh. “Alright, boys.” I clap, addressing my men. “Cartel clean-up crew is on duty, which means we get to kick back and relax for a bit. Beer’s on its way. Let’s get rowdy, you crazy motherfuckers.”
I laugh while everyone hoots and hollers, winking at The Ivory. “Parting gift. For being such a gracious loser.”
His grin goes wide and wicked. Angel looks worried.
“Yo, Linetti,” I call, snickering. “Remember that whole Quiet Night thing you guys thought I didn’t know about…?”
Linetti looks nervous, eyes following Byron Kang, who’s bouncing on his feet, throwing practice-jabs at Fenwick’s hands.
“Um…” Linetti croaks, peeking at me. Then Ivory, and his little bird.
I honestly don’t think he recognized Angel as Ari until right fucking now. But he’s piecing it together. And clearly, he’s more than worried.
“Alabaster Fight Club is about to commence!” I shout. “We’ve got our first bet on Byron “The Shadowman” Kang to take Camden “The Fucked” Linetti for two-handed-fifty K!”
“Wait, what the fuck?!” Linetti gasps.
Angel tugs on Ivory’s sleeve. “After him, can we do Carlos Zaza?”
He peeks at Carson, who beams with thrill.
“Oh, hell yea!” Peters cheers. “I’ll get in on that action!”
“How much are you putting down?” Ivory chuckles. “I’ll match it.”
“Nah…” Peters cracks his knuckles, mean-mugging Zaza, who’s been intentionally keeping his distance since they were released from where we’d been holding them in the prison for safekeeping. “I’m not betting. I’m fighting.”
Hancock and Jasper cheer. “Fuck yea! Major Josh Peters for the win!”
“Sounds good to me,” Ivory hums. “I’ll put another two-fifty on Peters to beat Carlito into the ground.”
“And what about you?” Linetti grunts at Ivory. “You’re pitting us against each other when you’re the one who should be taking a beating! This is all your fault!”
Ivory doesn’t appear amused, or concerned. “The only person I will allow to fuck me up is Jonathan. Or this one.” He smirks down at Angel. “I’m sure he’ll get me in a vulnerable position later.” Angel bites his lip, flushing. “But if Jonathan wants, he’s more than welcome.”
I’m sort of just gawking at him while he grins.
“Whaddya say, my pet,” he hums teasingly. “One free shot to the face?”
Angel steps out of the way. My mouth hangs open.
“Ooh!” Joy stomps over. “Tag me in!”
Rook joins her. “Me too.”
Seeing my man cracking his knuckles, fury etching his features, is supremely hot.
I had no intention of bringing Ivory any physical harm. I had my chance to kill him, but I don’t think it would’ve solved anything as much as forgiving him and moving forward has.
That said, if my partners want to kick his ass for me… Who am I to stand in their way?
Now Ivory looks worried. “No, I said Jonathan.”
“Proxy!” Trevel shouts, and everyone cheers.
“Yes! Oh my God, that’s amazing!” Dash is so excited he literally hops.
“Hell yea!” Byron claps.
Ivory frowns.
“What say you, Mr. Blanco?” Joy sneers. “You ready for a beating from Velle’s proxies?”
His mouth opens, but Rook swings before he has a chance to speak.
“That was rhetorical,” Joy sighs. “We don’t need your permission.”
And then she launches the butt of her hand at his nose, while he’s still hunched and disoriented from Rook’s right-cross.
The Ivory grunts, head flinging back as a collective “Oh shit!” Rings out from the crowd.
Rook grabs him by the hair, holding him in place for Joy to spin-kick his head.
Angel whimpers, eyes wide, mouth covered with his hands. But of course, he’s not interfering. He knows his man deserves this.
It’s entertaining as hell, I won’t lie. And cathartic for Joy, and Rook, and pretty much everyone watching. Even Angel, who seems to be enjoying this on some level he’d probably never admit to us.
That said, for me, it’s just that. Strictly entertainment. I don’t need to fuck him up to feel better. All I needed was that recognition he finally gave me, after a decade of hiding it on purpose, pulling it away any time I got close to uncovering it.
My catharsis happened the moment he surrendered.
Only a few minutes later, Rook and Joy let up, panting and grinning triumphantly at El Diablo bleeding on the ground. They high-five, and I have to bite my fucking lip, because damn… they’re hot as fuck.
I have to look away before I get hard over this.
“That was so sexy,” I purr to them.
Joy winks, and Rook slips his arms around my waist, subtly feeling up my ass. “All for you, Officer.” He presses a soft kiss on my lips.
“I can’t wait to get you both naked,” I growl.
“Soon,” Joy breathes, jutting a hand out for The Ivory.
He looks shocked by it, but he accepts it, allowing her to pull him to his feet.
“Gracias. She hits harder than you, by the way,” he says to Rook, spitting blood on the ground.
“Tell me something I don’t know,” he chuckles, pecking me once more before, sauntering toward the Attic. “Let me grab you an icepack, Jefe.”
“Much obliged,” Ivory grunts.
I can tell he’s not pleased—who would be after getting their ass handed to them? But Angel is fawning over his bleeding nose and lip, and he’s grinning.
Barely fazed.
“My turn!” Byron stalks after Linetti, who’s literally running away. It’s hilarious. “Where you goin, sonyeon…”
“Kang! Stop…”
We’re all laughing as two cartel men come dragging a large crate.
“Beer’s here!”
Linetti stops, distracted by booze, just long enough for Kang to tackle him to the ground.
Fuckin’ savagery, man.
Even after the parties ended, we still found ways to let loose. It’s who we are.
It wasn’t about getting fucked up and numbing ourselves to the reality of our situation anymore. We were on a mission, training and keeping ourselves sharp was imperative.
“You realize that’s where you fucked up, right?” I murmur to Ivory while he watches with glee as Byron Kang beats the ever-loving shit out of Linetti. His eyes flit to mine. “The lockdown… you stopped feeding us vices right when it mattered most. We were at our strongest and we only got stronger.”
He purses down a smirk.
“And then when you brought in your team to replace us, you left us alone and unoccupied, but you kept us together,” I sneer. “I thought you were supposed to be smart.”
Ivory takes a deep inhale. “If someone didn’t know better, they might think I’d been sabotaging the integrity of this island from day one…” He sighs. “But I would never do that.”
He winks, patting me on the shoulder.
I’m just staring at him. This vicious, brilliant fucking sociopath…
My mentor.
It’s insane, but on some level I still see him that way. Because I can’t erase thirteen years of learning from this madman. In many ways, he made me who I am today. Like a father-figure—as creepy or fucked up as that sounds, all things considered.
He was the only male figure in my life to look up to. So he became that… My surrogate dad. And like many fathers, he was also an abusive piece of shit. But you don’t stop loving them because of that. You can’t. It’s tattooed onto your insides.
The point is that there is good in Manuel Blanco. I’ve seen it firsthand. And while we may have gone off-course in our conquering of this island, which I blame fully on the Pen, together we still made Alabaster Isle ours.
I’ll toast to that, motherfuckers.