Chapter Thirty-One #2
Trevel shifts beside me, and I glance up to find him watching Dr. Love, who’s practically snarling at the old guy.
Pure wrath is coming off of him in waves.
But even if it wasn’t already palpable in the air, it’d sure as shit be visible in the flames of raw hatred Love is shooting at the other doctor in the room.
The Ivory snorts. “Not very pleased with this turn of events, are we, Lemuel?”
Dr. Love is vibrating.
I’m gonna go out on a limb and say those two aren’t besties.
The Ivory sighs. “Being that I’m allowing you three to stay here, in my home, I’ll need to utilize some…
extra security.” I peer at him in between watching the doctor, who steps over to us.
“My men have their hands full right now, I’m afraid.
As do I, meaning we won’t be able to keep an eye on you at all times, surveillance or not.
” He gestures to the man, who sets his case down on a nearby table and opens it.
“Dr. Johansson here has something that will put my mind at ease.”
The guy—Johansson—removes a device from inside the case, bringing it over to me first. A black circle, maybe plastic or rubber. But when he unfastens and opens it, I realize what it is and back up.
“Wait, what the fuck??” I grunt.
“Hold still, please,” Johansson instructs me, voice meek, with a discernible accent, maybe German or Norwegian.
Doesn’t seem like the type of dude who’d be attempting to fucking collar me. But I guess that’s the point.
“No way.” I shake my head. “You’re not putting that on me.”
“Oh yes, he is,” The Ivory says sternly. “You see, I would love to trust you, Byron, but the fact is that I don’t feel I can trust anyone these days…” His voice trails, eyes hardening when they drift from us to Dr. Love. “You give an inch, but they need fucking miles .”
“You know what you did…” Dr. Love growls at him.
The Ivory stalks over until they’re chest to chest. “And you know what you did. After everything I allowed… Everything I let slide . Selfishly and thoughtlessly siding with yet another ungrateful puto who could’ve had it all.” His tone is frighteningly low as he spits his words like venom.
I’m not afraid to admit it… The Warden has always been a purely terrifying dude, despite his prim and proper attire and mannerisms. But right now, in this dimly lit room, with gunfire and mayhem in the distance, his composure is slipping.
Beat up and bloody, with that manic look in his charcoal eyes…
He’s giving off the vibes of someone who has very little to lose, and that makes him a thousand times more frightening, and dangerous, than before.
Johansson uses the fact that we’re distracted to fasten the collar around my neck.
“Fuck you!” I choke, grabbing at my throat. “What the hell even is this thing??”
“ That is a prototype of an invention we’d been working on,” The Ivory says, still glaring at Dr. Love, lips curving into a sinister smirk. “I’m quite proud of it. A collar with the ability to immobilize a subject, should they leave the designated area. In your case, that would be the mansion.”
Johansson moves to Trevel next, fastening a collar on him. His eyes drift to mine, etched in frightful discomfort.
“When you say immobilize …” Trevel mumbles, touching the device curled tightly around his throat.
The Ivory’s eyes shift to Johansson.
“The inner band of the collar consists of a sensor and a series of needles, which are laced with a paralytic sedative,” Johansson explains. “If the sensor leaves the programmed safe space , or if it is tampered with, the needles are deployed.”
What… in the actual… fuck??
I can feel the shock on my face, mirroring that on Trevel’s. Both of our hands drop away from the collars fast, and The Ivory chuckles.
“Yea, I would not try to remove them.” He grins wickedly.
“It’s like when you try to remove one of those security tags they put on clothes in department stores…
Only the ink that ruins the clothing is an extremely powerful tranquilizer that will cause immediate muscular paralysis lasting about twelve hours.
And the pretty little garment being destroyed is you . ” He turns a wink on Dr. Love.
My mouth is filling with saliva, pulse jumping aggressively in my neck. I swallow slowly and fearfully, suddenly very aware of my Adam’s apple sliding beneath this deadly device.
“How do we know it won’t, like… go off by accident?” I ask, resisting the urge to fidget in place.
The Ivory shrugs apathetically. “We don’t, really.”
Tentatively, Johansson steps closer to Dr. Love, dripping with unease. He honestly looks like he’s about to shit himself based on the angry glare Love is shooting at him. He’s shaking in his lab coat.
The Ivory thrusts out his hand impatiently, and Johansson hands him the collar. The Ivory leans in, grinning as he grazes his index finger over Dr. Love’s throat.
“You wanna end up like the last asshole who put something around my neck?” Love hisses a quiet threat.
“Oh, please, Lemuel. I’m not going to scar you like Uncle Stephen did,” The Ivory hums, wrapping the collar around Dr. Love’s throat.
“No, no. The plans I have for you are much more permanent .” Once the collar is secured in place, The Ivory whispers, “You should’ve killed me when you had the chance. ”
Moving back, he pats Love on the cheek. “Bring him to the tombs. Lemuel’s had enough luxury in this mansion for one lifetime.”
Kent storms over, grabbing Dr. Love.
“You boys can sleep anywhere you like tonight,” he says to Trevel and me. “There are plenty of empty rooms now, but that will change very soon. Feel free to roam, but remember, one step outside and it’s lights out.”
Striding away from us, he pulls the walkie off of his belt again, holding it up to his face.
“Whoever brings me Felix Darcey gets an extra million. Still breathing is the only stipulation.” He peeks over his shoulder at Dr. Love.
“Oh, and make sure he has both of his hands… I want to take one myself. Call it a gift for someone special.”
He sneers in Love’s direction while he’s being dragged out of the room, hollering and cursing The Ivory’s name. But The Ivory is already gone, presumably off to go threaten another room full of people.
Jesus, what the fuck am I doing here??
Deadly collars, threats, gunshots, missing people, a dark mansion… revenge.
It’s all too much.
Once The Ivory is gone, Johansson awkwardly scuttles off, followed by the young guy, who gives us a sympathetic smile and wave on his way out. “Goodnight, Trevel. Goodnight, Byron.”
He’s gone before I can even react. Not that I can process anything right now. I’m too busy stressing over being potentially paralyzed at any moment.
“Who… who’s that?” I ask, stunned and jittery, distracting myself from the urge to fuss with the collar.
“Yari,” Trevel says, waiting a beat before creeping to the doorway. “Ivory’s assistant.” He peeks around the corner, then motions for me. “Come on.”
“Where are we going?” I follow him reluctantly, because part of me doesn’t want to move.
I just want to sit in this room, maybe stare at the fire for a few hours in silence while I contemplate my bleak existence.
“We have to go check on Darcey,” he whispers. “Clearly, they haven’t found him yet…”
Oh, shit. He’s right.
The Ivory’s looking for him…
Together, we head for the stairs. It’s good… I need to keep moving. I feel like if I stop, even for a second, I might fall apart.
I hate relying on people, because people suck and they can’t be trusted. But in this moment, I’m desperate for some solace from the chaos. I’m craving some fucking peace , even if it’s fleeting.
I think… I just need his arms around me again.
On the second floor, we head to the end of the wing. To Dr. Love’s former bedroom. We race through the door and come to a full stop.
Fuck… My stomach drops.
“Well… That’s not good.” Trevel sighs, wandering up to the bed where I left Felix Darcey tied up, now empty.
Nothing but a belt and some rope left behind.
He’s gone.
“Fucking little rat chewed himself free,” Trevel scoffs, picking up the belt before tossing it down.
“Great.” I rub my eyes. “Fucking perfect.”
“He’s The Ivory’s problem now.” Trevel steps up to me, resting his hands on my shoulders. “Truth be told, I wasn’t sure what to do with him, anyway.”
“No shit,” I grumble, and he frowns.
“Are you upset with me?” His head slants in this almost innocently bemused way that makes me want to laugh.
But I’m far too restless right now to find his lunacy adorable.
“ Yes , Trevel, I am upset with you.” I puff out the words on an exhausted breath. “If you’ll recall, I was upset with you before we even left the prison! And now, everything is all fucked up… I mean, Jesus , how much chaos can happen in one night??”
I make a weak attempt at pulling away from him, but it doesn’t take. He holds me in place while rubbing my shoulders gently, yet firm enough that it’s easing some stress in them almost instantly. My eyes flutter shut.
God, the way he works those fucking hands…
I’m still pissed, and worried, stressed and anxious, and exhausted, and scared. But the massage is helping, too much to attempt fighting it.
“Shh… I know, baby,” he croons, pressing on some spot at the base of my skull that instantly alleviates the tension headache throbbing my temples. “Things have gotten a bit wonky, and I’m sorry for the part I’ve played in it.”
“Watch the collar…” I mumble. He breathes a soft chuckle, and my eyes open slowly, latching onto his purple gaze.
Exhaling, I drop my forehead onto his. “Whether I want it to or not, my life revolves around this stupid island. And now it’s all been turned upside down.
In the span of one night, everything has changed. ”
I gulp when I think about Luthor and Ren, and what the Warden said. About them leaving…
This situation feels insurmountable.
“I know it seems like that, love, but trust me, things have been changing for a while,” Trevel says calmly. “Maybe you can’t see it, because it’s been built around you for so long…”
I think he might be right, but I don’t want to accept it. I loathe the idea that I’m so easy to break now.
Alabaster Pen tore me down.
I’m not a fighter anymore… I’m weak.
I’m nothing but… a prisoner.
Lifting my face, I blink at him, remembering how we stood in this exact spot only a few hours ago. Partners in crime, working together to exact our revenge . That’s how it seemed, anyway.
I remember how he kissed me in front of Darcey and Dr. Love…
It felt real in the moment. But how can I be sure it was? How can I be sure I’m not just another part of his plan?
A pawn in his game…
“Was this what you wanted?” I ask quietly. His forehead lines. “Turning Dr. Love over to The Ivory… Like he did to you?”
He stares at me for a moment before murmuring, “Karma is a bitch…”
“Right… And now we’re on his side,” I breathe. “For better or worse.”
Our eyes remain locked, those words hanging in the air.
“Well… you are my prison wife.” His lips twitch.
I huff, then shake my head. “Trevel, this is serious.”
“I know, baby…” He pouts, continuing with his massaging that feels intentionally distracting.
“What happened?” I mumble. “With Love… when you were out in the woods?”
“We were almost to the prison when the tower fell,” he answers. “It was bonkers how loud it was. Felt like a bloody bomb had been dropped.”
“I mean before that,” I rasp, trying to force the vulnerability out of my tone. “What did you two… do?” I clear my throat. “Did you talk to him about anything?”
Trevel gapes at me, as if he’s momentarily stunned by my question. It’s as endearing as it is infuriating, because I can’t fathom that he still isn’t processing how one-sided this whole thing is.
I’m not Bonnie Parker… He is. I’m Clyde Barrow… And that’s not a good thing. Clyde was a doormat for Bonnie, doing anything and everything to please her. And she just kept stringing him along, giving him just enough to keep him on the hook.
Joke or not, the metaphor stands. I never noticed how much of a fucking follower I am… How much my existence relies on the people who use me.
I am a fucking sidekick… A desperate fucking groupie.
Trevel’s eyes glisten with something I wish like hell I could read. But then he glances left and frowns, blinking himself out of it. It’s strange, but he just started doing that tonight, after we fucked in the woods. Almost like he’s talking himself out of something.
He brushes my hair back with his fingers. “I think it’s quite sexy how jealous you are, my sweet fury.”
I frown, but he kisses it off my lips.
“I don’t want you to worry, baby. Our plan worked. The Ivory has Dr. Love, and soon, he’ll have Felix. They’ll get what’s coming to them, and we’ll be safe here.”
My shoulder slumps a bit in defeat. I can barely hold myself up anymore. The weight of all this shit is crushing me.
“Hey,” Trevel whispers, grasping my chin and forcing my gaze back to his. “We have each other. That’s all that matters, yea?”
I blink at the promise in his eyes, nodding slowly.
“Good,” he purrs, kissing me softly. “Now, come here, warrior.” He brings me over to the bed. “You’re awfully tight. Let me work all that stress out of your big, sexy body.”
I don’t have it in me to resist right now. As much as I can’t shake the feeling that I’m being used or manipulated, I can’t deny that some part of me finds comfort in it. Especially right now. The relief of not having to think is pretty satisfying.
If playing the part of his toy gets me pleasure, for now, I’d be a fool to turn it down while the state of everything else is so grim.
So I crawl into the giant bed with my violet-eyed partner in crime and get naked. I let him work those magic hands on me until I’m blissed out, and then we spend hours tangled in fancy sheets.
It’s surreal, being here with Trevel. Fucking and cuddling in a luxurious king-size bed. Using lush sex and slow kisses to mask our realities.
From a prison to a mansion, but I’m still confined.
From one body to another… and I’m still in the dark.