Chapter Fifty-Two
“What do you think The Ivory’s gonna do now?”
“Dunno…”
“Do you think he’d stay here and live with Velle and everyone else?” I whip a wire around in the air like a lasso. “That would be crazy, right?”
“Hand me that wire.” Lex snatches it out of my hand.
“But if not, that means he’d have to leave his precious mansion, which also doesn’t seem like something he’d do,” I continue speculating while Lex works. “Who do you think is gonna stay? And what do you think will happen with Russo??”
“Ren, I don’t know, okay?” Lex barks. “I’m just trying to fix this.”
“What are you, a Spectrum service technician now?” I snicker.
“Shut up,” he grumbles, and I can tell he’s tired.
Lexington gets grumpy as hell when he doesn’t get his sleep, remember?
“Babe, why don’t we take a break?” I rub his shoulders and kiss his neck. “The cell service is working.”
“Yea, but it sucks,” he grunts. “If I get this damn thing working, the island will be back on its own network.”
“Okay, but it’s not an emergency,” I hum. “Five minutes, baby boy. Go grab something to eat… see what Dascha’s doing.”
“I’m almost done,” he murmurs, up to his elbows in tech stuff I don’t understand in the slightest. “It’d be easier to work if someone wasn’t nattering in my ear…” He shoots me a glare, and I know what that means.
Give him some space before he strangles you.
I back away, hands up.
“Sorry, babe. I’ll leave you be.”
“Thank you.”
Snickering, I shake my head, twirling around and sauntering off, leaving my darling tech-baby alone before he blows a gasket. Or a motherboard, or whatever the hell, I have no fucking clue.
Lex has been working on that thing for a while now, and I can tell it’s taking him longer because he’s exhausted. But he won’t admit it, and he won’t give it a rest, stubborn thing he is.
No matter. I can find other ways to entertain myself…
Other unsuspecting people to terrorize on this island like fucking King Kong.
More like King Dong. Ha! I’m funny.
“Hmm… who to bother now?” I hum, traipsing through the garden.
It’s wild that I’m just wandering about the Ivory Mansion as a guest. Not a prisoner, or a secret spy on a rescue mission. I’m allowed to be here! Just like all of the other degenerates currently roaming around.
“Yo, Ren!”
“Sup, 48?”
I nod and wave at the prisoners greeting me when we pass each other in the halls like it’s fucking high school. Damn, I really am the Prom Queen of Alabaster Pen.
I should have a sash made. Ooh, or a tiara!
I’m not sure where I’m going, I’m just walking. All of my friends are preoccupied…
Dash and Kemper are dealing with Dash’s dad. Felix and Lem are taking a much-needed shower and a long nap. Byron and Trevel are shagging, since apparently Trevel was supposed to give the Velle trio massages, but he wound up catching them banging and it got him all randy Jackson.
I don’t blame him. Even as a monogamous as fuck reformed-skank, I can’t say I’d turn away from John Chevelle Live. Hell, I’d even watch him with Joy, despite my aversion to lady parts.
Alex and Peters are also sleeping, I think. Which leaves only… The former king and his little bird.
Sure, we’re not friends. But I like Angel, and I also happen to like the shmoopy creature he’s turned The Ivory into.
As far as I’m concerned, the past is the past. Now, The Ivory is just another dude on this island who’s railed me to tears.
And Angel is sweet. Honestly, I could see us being friends… That is, if he’s going to be around.
The incessant questions I was bugging Lex with were only a fraction of what’s in my head. I’m very curious about how all this is going to shake out.
Do we just… leave? Now that everyone is safe…
And why does that thought make me sad?
Pondering all these things while puttering around the mansion, I venture through the conservatory, admiring how pretty it all is. Just as I’m getting my snoop on, though, there’s some commotion. Footsteps and voices from somewhere. I take a second to gulp in mild anxiety.
Come on, man… I thought it was over.
Jogging back inside, I get to the foyer as Velle, Rook, and Joy are scurrying downstairs.
“What’s going on?” I gasp.
The words are barely out of my mouth when the front doors are kicked open.
“In Nomine Patris, et Fili, et Spiritus Sancti,” a man holding a Tommy gun shouts, cocking it.
“Jesus Christ, here we go.” I rub my eyes.
He’s not alone. There are at least ten guys behind him. Also armed with automatic weapons, because why wouldn’t they be??
I’m starting to think this is a regular thing around here. Living in this mansion would mean crazy dudes bursting in every other day packin’ heat, spouting random nutbag shit in Latin.
“Shepherds we shall be, for Thee, my Lord, for Thee!” The guy in the front hollers, storming inside. “Where’s Manuel fookin Blanco?!”
“Dad! Jesus…” Joy rushes down the stairs in a bathrobe. “Did you really just burst in here reciting lines from Boondock Saints? Be a little more Irish, why don’t you…”
“I am Irish, cailin,” he grumbles, grinning. “Whaddya want from me?”
Joy laughs, then squeals, jumping into his arms.
I’m gonna go out on a limb here… That’s Joy’s tax attorney.
“My baby girl,” the man—who is clearly Joy’s father—chuckles, swinging her around, and it’s pretty damn heartwarming.
Rook and Velle are joining them, grinning. It might be more endearing if they weren’t in their boxers, clearly having just porked the shit out of the armed and crazy Irish dude’s daughter.
Joy’s dad sets her down, frowning when he looks Velle and Rook up and down. “Couldn’t be bothered to put yer pants on fer company?”
They share an uneasy look, but Joy jumps in, “We were getting massages.”
“Well, good to know everyone’s taking things seriously,” he grunts.
“Finn.” Velle shakes the guy’s hand. “Good to see you. Sorry we weren’t… expecting you.”
“Really?” Joy’s dad cocks a brow, shaking Rook’s hand. “‘Cause I told the arsehole on the phone I was comin’.”
Joy is rubbing her eyes in exasperation while Velle looks confused.
“That’d be me,” Dr. Love says, he and Felix trotting down the other staircase.
Apparently, the commotion has brought everyone out of hibernation. Dash, Kemper, and Dash’s dad emerge from the back. Byron and Trevel also pop out to look over the bannister from the third floor.
“Ah. So yer the arsehole I promised meh first bullet to,” Finn Jameson says to Lemuel.
The doctor just stares.
“Dad, I can’t believe I have to say this to you again, but please put the gun down and stop threatening to shoot my friends,” Joy gripes, grabbing the Tommy gun from her father.
“What’s going on?” Dash whispers to me.
“Well, that’s Joy’s dad,” I hum. “And apparently he told Lemuel he was going to shoot him? I’m still fuzzy on the details.”
“Mr. Jameson, I apologize if I worried you.” Lem, as usual, is stoic as hell, even at gunpoint. “I was being held hostage when you called, after being tortured for a week, so it wasn’t the best time for me to be speaking to a stranger on behalf of their daughter.”
“Yer forgiven, son,” Finn says definitively. “But that brings me to the other reason for meh visit…” He holds his hand out, and the guy behind him hands him a new Tommy gun. He cocks it in the same aggressive—but still pretty badass—manner. “Bring me The Ivory!”
“Finn, look,” Velle steps forward. “We haven’t had a chance to catch up. It’s been a crazy day, but basically… it’s been sorted.”
Finn Jameson’s surprise, confusion, and rage seem to be cancelling each other out. “Sorted…?”
“Yea.” Velle is clearly trying to pacify this person, who I’m just guessing could fly off the handle rather easily. “No need to fight anymore. It’s over.”
“What’re yeh saying to me, boy??”
“Daddy, the war is over. We won!” Joy joins in, she and her partners smiling and nodding like bobbleheads.
Finn doesn’t appear placated whatsoever by this news.
He looks around at the rest of us. And now we’re all nodding.
“Yea, totally.”
“No more war…”
“We crushed it.”
“Crushed it…” Finn repeats the words as if they’re foreign to him. “Right. Well, then, where’s The Ivory?”
Velle and his partners share a nervous look.
“He’s, uh…”
“Right here,” The Ivory’s voice booms from the top of the stairs, and our faces spring.
“Oh, there he is,” I mumble awkwardly.
“Finn. It’s been a while,” The Ivory croons calmly, standing up on the third-floor landing, wearing an extremely bougie-looking white robe, clutching Angel to his side, the both of them rumpled and distinctly well-sexed. Angel’s legit wearing only his dress shirt. “It’s good to see—”
Finn fires a round above their heads.
The Ivory dives on top of Angel, the two of them vanishing from sight while my ears ring.
We all pretty much just hit the deck. I’m in a pig-pile, Kemper, Lemuel and Dash’s dad attempting to cover us.
Peters pulls his gun, I’m guessing as a reflex.
“Dad, what the hell?!” Joy’s voice comes into focus while everyone slowly picks themselves up off the floor.
“Finn, Jesus!” Velle barks. “This is my house, man!”
“Relax,” Finn grumbles. “If I wanted to hit ‘em, he’d be dead.”
The Ivory is rising to his feet, holding Angel behind him as he glares down at Joy’s father.
“That’s how it’s done, by the way, son,” Finn says pointedly to Velle. “If ye’d done that from the start, we wouldn’t be in this mess.”
“None of this is necessary,” The Ivory growls. “As you can see, your daughter is fine. And the war is over.”
“Yea yea yea, I saw yer men leaving on meh way in,” Finn mutters. “Last I checked, when a war ends, everyone doesn’t all move in together like a big happy family.”
“You clearly haven’t met our family,” I grumble, cowering a bit when he glares at me.
“Daddy, we have a lot of catching up to do,” Joy says, attempting to usher her father away from The Ivory. “Why don’t you call off your goons and we can go have a drink in the garden?”
“Fine,” Finn grumbles. “Go get dressed. We’ll make ourselves at home.” He shoots a devious smirk up at The Ivory.