Chapter Thiry-Nine
T his is dangerous. Not that I care.
What’s danger anyway, when you feel nothing and life is pointless?
“Shit shit shit,” Dash huffs from a few feet ahead. “Watch out for whatever that is… I almost tripped over it.”
“Good looks,” Hancock grunts, hopping over this weird cluster of rocks that could be a boobytrap.
Maybe I should throw myself on top of it.
We managed to locate Hancock a pair of pants and some shoes before we escaped the mansion, so he’s not hiking through the woods in a jock. Kind of a bummer. The thought of it brings on some mild amusement…
Until I remember that I’m dead inside, and I scowl it all away.
I should’ve known, man. I should have fucking known that even the most confusing of good things would never last for me. Just like always… It’s ripped out of my hands, just when I’m warming up to the idea of happiness.
That’s my bad. I’m meant to be forever bitter and alone.
It’s just who I am. That’s my identifier.
Ren’s the slutty one. Luthor is the smart one. Dash is the sweet, broken boy. Felix is the lovable lunatic. The Ivory is evil… Velle’s gonna win.
And I’m the lone wolf. On the outside, looking in.
“Felix?!” Luthor calls out in a hushed voice.
“I don’t like that we haven’t found him yet…” Dash murmurs.
“Don’t think about it,” I rumble. “Just keep moving.”
The shore is visible up ahead, just through the trees.
Based on where we came out of the mansion and the direction we’re headed, the old armory should be close.
Hancock says it’s a safe spot. Apparently, they’ve been stashing guns and supplies there for months, using it to prepare for this uprising since long before the new guards showed up.
It’s kind of amazing. There we all were, just going about our vacant lives in that prison, thinking things had calmed down a bit after Dash escaped and Darcey killed O’Malley.
Sure, we were on lockdown, but after Velle came back, it seemed like the tension had cooled off. But his guard was up the whole time.
When The Ivory brought in his guys, it was technically a move Velle hadn’t anticipated, but that didn’t mean they weren’t prepared. And now, I can’t believe I doubted him, even for a second.
If anyone has a chance of defeating The Ivory, it’s Jonathan Chevelle.
I’m not sure how it’ll happen. And things might still get worse before they get better. In fact, I’m positive they will. But the fact that we’re all still alive and back together feels like a sign.
I hate myself a little for letting The Ivory get in my head; letting him instill doubt through Trevel Fenwick . Maybe that was his ultimate act of brainwashing…
I should’ve seen this coming. After all, everything The Ivory does is carefully calculated.
He knew what he was doing, putting Trevel and me in the same cell.
Giving us freedoms … Giving us the means to build our relationship .
So that when he was ready to cash in on his debt with Trevel, I wouldn’t think twice about tagging along.
Whether Trevel knew, or was also being played by The Ivory, remains to be seen. But based on the gorgeous Brit with the captivating purple eyes being a world-class chameleon, I’d say it’s a strong possibility that he was in on it all along.
Fucking asshole.
I hope they shoot him.
I bite the inside of my cheek to stop from backpedaling. I don’t care what happens to him. He should get hurt, because he hurt me. An eye for an eye…
That’s that revenge he’s so damn obsessed with.
A distinct sound paired with whipping winds grows closer, and we all stop.
“Shit…” Hancock peers up through the trees.
“Is that your helicopter?” Dash asks Luthor and Ren.
“Uh… maybe?” Luthor’s brows zip.
“How can you not know??” Hancock snaps.
“It’s a helicopter,” Ren grunts. “Is it supposed to have some distinguishing feature??”
“ Yes ,” Hancock glares at him.
Ren blinks. “Okay, well, I didn’t know that. My bad.”
“I can’t see the pilot from here.” Luthor sighs anxiously.
“It must be ours,” Ren attempts positivity. “Tauren must’ve told him to pick us up if we were in danger…”
Luthor frowns. “How would he know we’re in danger…?”
“It doesn’t matter,” Dash grumbles. “I’m not getting in no helicopter without Kemper.”
“Attached at the dick, I’m telling you.” Ren shakes his head.
“It’s at the hip, dumbass,” Dash huffs.
“No. It’s not.” Ren smirks.
“Oh my God ,” Luthor groans, rubbing his eyes. “What do we do??”
“What if it’s Russo…?” I murmur, and they all turn to stare at me.
“Governor Russo??” Ren balks.
“Why would he be here?” Luthor stiffens.
“He was on his way,” Dash explains for me. “I guess he wanted to come see what was going on here or some shit. That’s why I let The Ivory grab me… Sort of.” He shifts and clears his throat. “He needed to show Russo that me and Byron were still here.”
“Why you?” Luthor looks at me, head cocking.
Anxiety strangles my chest as heat rushes up my neck.
Do I have to tell them the truth? Look at what happened the last time I revealed my secrets to someone…
“Does it have something to do with why you’re here too?” Dash asks curiously. “Come to think of it, I don’t know why you’re here…”
“The guy you killed for sleeping with your girlfriend?” Ren tilts his head, and I’m about to throw up. “Was he related to Russo?”
“Um…” I rub the back of my neck.
“Shit, you guys, they’re landing,” Dash panics.
Leaves crunch, and we all freeze. Our faces fling back and forth as we peer out between the trees. Footsteps are growing closer. Someone is coming through the woods, at least two people.
We’re fucking trapped. This is it…
The helicopter is touching down on the shore, just beyond the trees we’re hiding behind. My heart is pumping aggressively, sweat breaking out on my forehead.
“Don’t move!” someone shouts.
“Fuck it,” I grunt, diving out from behind a tree.
“Byron!” Dash gasps.
“What the fuck is he doing??”
Not sure, but I’m doing it. Rushing onto the shore, in the direction of the helicopter.
I’ll take the heat so they can get away. If he kills me, so be it.
What do I have to live for, anyway?
The propellers hit me with rapid gusts of wind until they power down. I stand frozen as the doors open… And out hops the man I’d been hoping never to see again as long as I live.
Antonio Russo, the corrupt Governor of New York.
Followed by two big guys in black suits, he strides over to me just as the others are emerging from their cover. My face whips around and I see my friends with their hands up, Kent and Paulino following close, guns drawn on them.
Shit.
“Well, well… Look at this,” Russo says with a smirk. “If this is the kind of shit going on out here, no wonder Blanco’s been dodging me for weeks.”
My jaw is clenched so tight, my teeth are snapping. Russo strides closer to me, and his men drop their hands onto their weapons.
He squints past me. “Dascha Reznikov… You look well. That’s unfortunate.”
Dash scowls, but says nothing.
Russo glances at me, head cocking. “Where’s Manuel?”
“He’s in the mansion, sir…” Kent answers, sounding as exhausted as he looks. “If you’ll come with me—”
“I’m not going anywhere,” he barks. “I’ve already lost nearly an hour circling this damn island because there’s conveniently another chopper in our landing spot. Bring him here. Now .” He folds his arms over his chest. “I’ll wait.”
Kent lowers his gun a bit, nodding at Paulino, who turns and darts back into the woods, in the direction of the mansion.
It’s wild to consider, but this prick actually seems worse than The Ivory, which I didn’t think was possible. I always thought Manuel Blanco bent to no one. But Governor Russo is acting like he’s El Jefe…
I wonder how The Ivory would feel about that.
Russo circles me, like a fucking shark, eyeing me all the while. I glance behind me at my friends once more, all of whom are just standing stock still, eyes wide with fright.
“You thought I’d forgotten about you… didn’t you, Byron Kang? ” he growls.
Harnessing all of the wrath inside me, I square my shoulders and grunt, “No. I’m sure you didn’t.”
“Hm…” He makes a displeased sound. “You know, at first, I was hoping Blanco would unleash some of that Grade-A sicko shit on you. After what you did to my son, you deserve nothing less.”
My jaw tics.
“But I suppose it doesn’t matter. The mere fact that you’ve been rotting here for years, with eternity on the horizon, is enough for me. And for Michelangelo.”
Hearing his name kicks something on, like a backup power source in my brain; igniting my spinal cord, sizzling volts through my muscles and tendons. My every molecule is lit up with that sweet fucking fury.
I step forward, ignoring the men in my peripheral, guns in hand. “Is he happy?”
Governor Russo’s gaze goes momentarily puzzled. “What?”
“Michelangelo…” I hum. “Is he happy? ”
“Of course he is,” he hisses. “He’s a strong and resilient man. You could never break him.”
“Well… no. I couldn’t.” I purse my lips. “Not in any way he didn’t want.”
Russo’s mouth sets in a line, eyes hardening.
“Is he seeing anyone?”
“Yes,” he spits. “In fact, he’s engaged.” Those words are a slice. A quick one. But it’s nothing I can’t handle, and the pain is eased when he adds, “To a lovely girl. They’ll be married this spring.”
My head slants. “Does he know about that?”
“What the fuck—Of course he knows…”
“If you say so.” I shrug, inching closer.
“The thing is, Governor Russo, for three years, I’ve gone over that night.
I’ve replayed it in my mind thousands of times, wondering what I could’ve done differently.
Contemplated all the various places along the way to your townhouse where I could have just…
stopped. The opportunities I had to change my fate.
” I pause to breathe. “But in the end, I come up with the same result… every time.”
“Listen to me, you sick fucking fa—”