Chapter Thirty-Eight
I hate myself.
That’s what this all comes down to.
I’m an awful, terrible, atrocious bloody bastard of the highest degree.
Stalking through the mansion, I’m like a ghost. An evil spirit, slinking around corners unseen, pausing in the shadows while cartel men rush about, sparing me not one glance.
Holding on to painful truths with white knuckles, because I’m nothing but wicked, and I don’t know how to be anything more.
“You did the right thing,” Leo says while we head down to the dungeon. “I know it doesn’t feel like it, but it’s for the best. Byron—”
“You don’t get to say his name!” I snap. “You don’t want me to be with him anyway, isn’t that right?? You think I should be alone forever… That’s why you’ve convinced me that lying to him is the right thing to do…”
“Trevel,” he breathes my name, sounding too much like me . Not him. This is me , and I hate myself. “You and I both know it was your choice to lie to him…”
“Fuck you,” I spit, sniffling and whimpering with tears welling in my eyes.
I can’t stop seeing it… Byron and his friend, clutching another while they sputtered and cried over the loss of their friends. Their friends who are very much alive…
And I could have told them. I should have.
I could have easily spared them the heartache of thinking people they care about enough to grieve so palpably died tragically at the hands of this bloody island and that life-altering storm. But I didn’t.
Because I’m a monster.
A selfish, pathetic, terrified little boy, clutching a weathered teddy bear to his chest.
In the dimly lit concrete chamber that is the Ivory Mansion’s basement, I look around for any sign of Dr. Love, wandering through the darkness, past the decaying bodies.
Fortunately, it’s freezing down here, which has delayed decomposition quite a bit.
The smell hasn’t become unbearable just yet. But it’s certainly present .
The stench of death brings up so many emotions inside of me. From the past, present, and future…
Born this way.
Inevitable.
You’re a killer, Trevel. You always will be.
You can’t fight it, and there’s no need to…
You’re not a fighter. You’re no Raphael.
“Lem…” my voice calls quietly as I trek deeper into the tombs. “Lemuel…?”
There’s a light in the distance… Noises. Footsteps clomping, hushed voices. No gunfire, but it does sound like outside is just ahead.
We discovered that the tombs actually lead out of the mansion—like an underground tunnel, or secret passageway , if you will. But the outside is blocked by a metal gate, and last we checked, it was locked from the outside.
Adrenaline has spiked inside me as I grow closer. Despite the sounds coming right toward me, I don’t stop. Because if I’m going to die down here, may as well get it over with.
Maybe I’ll finally be at peace.
Byron will be sad… Until he finds out I lied to him. And then he’ll be glad I’m dead. He’ll have his friends, his family back, and I’ll no longer be weighing him down with my evil breaths.
I’m the reason he’s turning his back on the people he loves. The way he once again chose me over them made me so nauseated with myself, I nearly gagged. It should feel good , having him want me this way… But it doesn’t. Because I didn’t earn it.
I only have him because I’ve lied and manipulated him. Byron isn’t weak; he’s just lonely, and I took advantage of that. I seduced him, dragged him out of the closet and lured him away from his people. And go figure, now he’s attached, when he was the one pretending to fight it all along!
It should be the happiest thing ever, because I’m utterly enamored by him. But that’s the problem. I can’t stop myself from ruining the things I love…
And I don’t want to be that curse anymore. The storm that smashes him to pieces.
A shadowy figure approaches me in the dark, and my steps slow. My breathing shallows when I see the person lift their arm, the glint of a knife in their hand bringing fear, yes , but also an odd sense of reprieve.
“Just do it,” I whisper, closing my eyes. “Fucking kill me…”
“Trevel??”
My eyes spring open.
“F-Felix…?” I tremble as he steps out of the darkness.
The Carver is here, covered in dirt and mud and… all sorts of black, on his face, his clothes. He looks feral. Like he’s been living in the woods for weeks.
He tucks his knife away in his pants, wandering up to me until we’re inches apart. I swallow hard as his gray eyes hold me in place.
Then he launches himself at me. Not to attack, but to…
He throws his arms around my shoulders, pulling me in tight.
He’s hugging me. The Carver is… hugging me?
What in the bloody hell…??
“Thank you,” he whispers by my ear, squeezing me so tightly I can barely breathe. It feels… nice .
I melt into him, arms slinking around his waist to hug him back because I just need it right now. I’m sick of talking to myself.
I don’t hate you, Felix Darcey. I’m not certain I ever did.
“Thank you so much, Trevel,” he says again with emotion thick in his tone.
“Alright…” I shiver. “For… what?”
He chuckles, letting me go to smile up at my face. “For saving Lemuel.”
My lashes flutter, brows lifted in surprise.
“I mean, I know you also kidnapped us.” He smirks. “But you made it right. That’s all that matters.”
“It is…?”
I’m very surprised by this. I figured that despite Lemuel forgiving me, Felix might feel different. But he’s forgiven me too. The monster …
Apparently, this evil soul has more heart and emotional clarity than I do. It’s alarming.
“Of course,” he says surely.
So I nod. I’m not going to argue with his decision to let bygones be bygones. Especially when I know I’m still a bloody fuckhead for lying to Byron.
Reconciling with them is fine, but I still suck at life. That’s what’s important here.
“Is Lemuel alright?” I ask. “Where is he?”
“He’s fine,” he answers on a tired breath. “A bit worse for wear, but aren’t we all?”
I shrug, because not quite… Byron and I are fine, physically. Sitting by The Ivory’s side, well-fed and freshly showered, in clean clothes, while everyone else is living a dystopian nightmare.
Although I’m sure emotionally, we too resemble raggedy forest goblins.
“He’s with Joy and Rook,” Felix tells me, pausing to listen for sounds.
He’s on high alert, reacquainting me with the situation.
The lad’s been out there assassinating The Ivory’s men for weeks.
I clearly never gave him the credit he’s due.
Maybe Felix Darcey deserves the hype. “They showed up with Kemper to get eyes on the mansion and figure out how to get Dash out, and decided to take Lemuel…” He blinks at the look on my face.
“Oh, right. You don’t know them. Um, Dash and Kemper are these guys who used to—”
“I’ve met Dash,” I cut him off. “And heard the name Kemper a few times. He’s Dash’s partner, yes?”
He nods. “There’s a lot going on right now…”
“I’ll say,” I breathe, head cluttered.
“Well, Lemuel refused to leave you guys behind, so I told him I’d stay and help get you all to safety,” he says, his wide, gray eyes capturing mine. “That is… if you’re with us.”
Felix goes quiet, as if he’s waiting for me to make this decision. To finally admit that I’m not loyal to The Ivory. That I want what’s best for myself, and Byron, and that I’ve known all along that Manuel Blanco will never be for us what he’s expecting us to be for him.
It may seem like an easy choice, but for me, it’s a bit more complex. I don’t fit in with the rest of them… With Byron’s mates. They all hate me. Say what you will about Manuel Blanco, but he’s done alright by me—in the way a maniacal sociopath does, of course.
But regardless of everything else, the only thing that keeps coming back to me, the only thing that matters , is my sweet fury.
And the words he wrote in his book of secrets assault my mind…
The Ivory using Byron’s mouth, drugging him and making him engage with his friend. Manipulating him, playing on his secrets. Using him… My warrior.
That’s not even close to what I’ve done to him. Yes, I’ve lied, and I’ve hid, but that’s about my issues and insecurities, not wanting to control him.
Whatever else happens, I think we can all agree I’m not as bad for him as The Ivory.
Jealousy burns up my esophagus, possession wrapped around the most potent of emotions… Love . I love him. And it sparks another familiar need in me…
The need for revenge .
Byron is mine , not his. He’s all that matters to me anymore. And if I want to keep him, after all of this is over, I’ll need to leave the darkness with him.
“You belong to me…”
“I am.” I nod. “I’m with you. Byron has always been with you all… And I want to be with him. That’s all I care about.”
Felix grins and steeples his dirty fingers. “Great to have you on board, fellow monster.”
My lips quirk, and he winks.
But a very specific sound crushes our amusement.
“Is that a… helicopter??” Felix’s forehead lines.
“Bollocks… He’s here,” I grumble.
“Let’s go. We don’t have much time…” he starts, but I grab him by the shirt to keep him in place.
“Not so fast, Jason Voorhees,” I rumble. “You’ve been out there for a while. Things inside these walls are a bit different.”
He spins to face me, giving me his full attention. Ready and willing to listen, to team up. I have to admit, it feels bloody wonderful.
My eyes scan the area for Leo… But he’s not here.
Because I am. He’s in me.
I’m… Leonardo.
I stand taller, limbs coming alive with credence. “We need to get to the others before Russo does. But you need to stay hidden. I don’t know where The Ivory is, and he’s looking for you. They all are.”
Felix nods quickly.
“The others are in the atrium… The garden may be our best bet, but we’ll have to figure out how to deactivate these collars.”
“How the hell are we going to do that?” he breathes out warily.
“I wish I had a solid answer,” I mutter. “We could check The Ivory’s floor… See if he keeps spare keys in his office. There’s something in the garden I need to… get.”