Chapter Thirty-Six #3
“Listen to me, you little shit,” The Ivory’s tone hops right over the line from controlled anger to unhinged wrath.
Like flipping a switch. “You’re mine , understand me?
? As far as the world is concerned, I fucking own you.
So do me a favor and keep your pouty mouth shut while I handle Russo, or so help me, I will not stop until you’re in bits and pieces.
Your officer will be bringing you back to Mexico in a goddamn Tupperware container like last night’s leftovers! ”
My nervous eyes meet Trevel’s, both of us visibly stiff. Dash is glaring at The Ivory, practically buzzing, though he doesn’t respond to that threat. Simply sits back on his knees and cocks his head, displaying a bored expression.
The Ivory’s dark gaze stays on the Russian bank robber for a few extra seconds that feel like heavy minutes. His jaw is visibly tight, and there’s a tick of something extremely stabby, even more than the usual hostility over Dash escaping. I really wish I knew what was going on here…
I want details.
That’s the worst part of this position I find myself in. I’m expected to sit by The Ivory’s side, obey him while mindlessly nodding like, yes, sir, Mr. Blanco, sir…
But I don’t get any intel. I’m still fully in the dark. The only real perk in all this is sleeping in the mansion and eating good food. Is it worth it? ? I can’t really tell. Sometimes I think it might be, but moments like these have me second-guessing everything.
The Ivory eventually stands with a sigh, nodding at the two officers who brought Dash in. They immediately stomp toward the doorway that leads inside the mansion.
“Keep an eye on him,” he says to Trevel. His eyes bounce to me, brow cocking pointedly. This is an expression I can read.
I’m not sure I trust you with this one.
Still, he hands me Hancock’s leash. “We’ll be back. Just going on a scenic stroll…”
His evil eyes fall to Dash once more before he stalks after the guards. “Scour the area! Kellan Kemper’s here… I want him found.”
As soon as he’s out of sight, Dash breathes hard, wobbling to his feet.
Shaking myself out of it, I ask Trevel, “You still have those cuff and shackle keys?”
Trevel pauses, watching Dash as he nods hesitantly, using the keys we got from the dead doctors to unlock Dash’s chains.
Dash eyes Trevel while rubbing his wrists. “Thanks…”
Trevel nods, though he still doesn’t appear confident in this move. We’re supposed to be on Team Ivory … Granted, I’m not sure I ever really saw how that would work. But if he finds out we’re breaking the rules, we’re dead.
“So are you siding with this asshole now??” Dash growls at me, bending to fuss with the muzzle on Hancock’s face. “You remember that he’s been personally responsible for all of our misery for years , right?”
He manages to get it off, and Hancock immediately groans, spitting on the floor. “Jesus motherfucking Mary and Joseph! That thing was so uncomfortable.” He unbuckles the clip of the leash from his collar and grunts, “Kang, be a pal and pull this fucking plug out of my ass, would you?”
“Pretty sure you can do that yourself,” I mutter, dropping the leash onto the floor, eyes springing back to Dash. “And I’m not siding with him. I’m just here. Not that it matters… Velle doesn’t care about me, so what difference does it make??”
Dash looks like he wants to argue, but I think he realizes it’s pointless. He knows damn well Velle only cares about three things in this world… Rook, Joy, and himself.
“Well, what about Luthor and Ren?” he asks, and my heart sinks like a hunk of concrete tossed into the ocean. “They must be over there, right?? How could you not be with them?”
Swallowing is difficult, as if my throat is closing up. I glance at Trevel, who’s giving me a very intense look, then Hancock, whose face falls in despair.
Dash must be noting the grim expressions and the sudden mist of sadness covering us all. His shoulders drop, eyes widened with unease. “What…?”
“Dash…” I shake my head slowly. “Luthor and Ren are… They didn’t…”
I physically can’t say the words. It feels like knives are stabbing me in the heart every time I think them. Speaking them out loud solidifies it.
My best friends are dead.
Dash trembles, a knowing heartbreak instantly overwhelming his pretty face. I can see his breathing shift as his chest jumps up and down.
“No…” he whispers in a voice suddenly small and innocent, like a child. A complete shift from the confidence of a moment ago.
I finally manage to croak, “They’re dead. Luthor and Ren are…” My voice cuts out in a ragged sob, and I cover my face. “They tried to escape, but they… didn’t make it.”
“No…” Dash whimpers, but I keep my hands covering my face. I can’t look at him right now. I just can’t . I’ll break the fuck down. “No no no… What?? That doesn’t make any… Fuck , Byron. You’re not fucking serious!”
He’s crumbling, voice even raspier than usual and jagged with emotion as he launches himself at me.
“It’s not true…” He sobs quietly into the crook of my neck, quivering uncontrollably.
Fuck me, I can’t do this…
Tears well and fall from my eyes while Dash hugs onto me so hard, he’s crushing my ribs. Or maybe that’s the pain…
Slowly, the stiffness in my muscles eases, and I circle his waist with my arms. The second it happens, I fall the fuck apart.
Dash and I are holding on to one another for dear life, tears tumbling, wetting each other’s skin. We’re both shaking, gasping for breath, and attempting to hold ourselves together, when in reality, I think we’re the only thing holding each other together right now.
No one else has been able to give me this… Not even Trevel. No one gets it. They don’t understand this devastation like Dash and I do. Luthor and Ren were our best friends in the entire world. We’ve been through so much together. They meant more to us than anyone else on this godforsaken island…
It’s fucking crazy to think about, but I never had real friendships until I came to Alabaster Pen.
I never had this sort of connection. An almost familial bond I never even had with my own flesh and blood.
We were like the crew from the Fast and the Furious movies.
Bad guys banding together, having each other’s backs, no matter what.
We fight, then we make up, because above all else, we’re a family .
But I never got to…
“I never got to… tell them I’m… sorry,” I heave into Dash’s chest while he struggles to breathe through his own sobs. “We had a fight… after you left. I was angry at them, and I—”
“I know,” he hums, consoling me with his tone and his palm cradling the back of my head. “I get it.”
“There was so much I should’ve s-said,” I sniffle. “And now it’s too late. I’m the shittiest friend ever…”
Dash pulls back, forcing me to abandon the humility of being vulnerable like this and meet his eyes. The hazel is glassy and red-rimmed, but still such a comfort right now.
I swallow past the memories trying to push their way to the surface of my mind.
“You’re not,” he says with quavering sincerity. “Trust me, I have my own regrets. But I’m sure they knew, Byron. I’m positive they knew how much they meant to you.”
I’m so grateful for him being here in this moment. For trying to cheer me up and placate my unbearable remorse.
But he doesn’t know the whole story…
No one does. No one but me.
And maybe…
Glancing over Dash’s shoulder, I find Trevel, looking like he’s about to crawl out of his own skin. He starts his pacing thing again, rubbing his eyes and pulling his hair. His distress is clear, and I have to wonder if he’s really feeling all of this anguish on my behalf.
He can’t be that much of a sociopath, then… Right?? If he’s so distraught for me…?
“Look, I know this is a rough time. For all of us,” Hancock rumbles, finally standing up again, though he’s swaying and sluggish, like he might be coming down from some strong shit. “But we really can’t just stand around here like this. If he comes back, we’re all fucked. We need a plan.”
Dash and I detach from one another, composing ourselves while looking him up and down.
“I can’t take you seriously while you’re wearing that,” I mutter, referring to his lack of clothes.
The dude’s just standing around in nothing but a jockstrap. And rather brazenly, I might add.
I never knew he had such a… great body.
I clear my throat and shift my gaze.
Oh, right… I’m bisexual.
My eyes slink timidly back to his abs. And his butt.
“Then go grab me some pants, bitch.” Hancock lifts a brow at me.
I narrow my gaze. “You know I can’t do that.”
He simply shrugs, and I have to commend him for his apparent shamelessness.
“Guys, focus,” Dash snaps quietly. The level-headed one…
Never thought I’d see the day.
Dash jaunts over to the veranda, peering inside the mansion—I’m guessing to check for the Warden or any of his men. “We need to do something. We have to get to Velle.”
“The Ivory’s expecting you both to still be chained up in here when he returns,” Trevel says, radiating tension. “I hate to say it, but you may need to—”
“I’m not putting that fucking plug back in,” Hancock bites.
“Yea, same.” Dash purses his lips. “Think again, man. There’s absolutely no way I’m chaining myself back up.”
“Okay, I get that,” I chime in. “But he has a point… Governor Russo is on his way here, and he’s going to want to see you locked up.”
Same goes for me…
“When is he supposed to be arriving?” Trevel asks. Our eyes connect, and my breathing hitches.
It feels like we haven’t spoken in days. Things are still strained between us, and it’s adding to my current state of trepidation. Trevel has become my constant. He’s the only one who’s been on my side all along.
Velle doesn’t want me back…
Dash is only worried about Kemper, I’m sure.
If I were to leave Trevel for them, I’d be alone again.
I don’t want to go back to being invisible.