Chapter Forty-One
W e’ve been kissing for too long.
I hate to even think that. Because how can you be kissing the best lips in the universe for too long?? Attached to the man you love , who— get this —loves you back!
Too long doesn’t exist with Byron Kang in the picture.
That said, there’s a lot going on right now, and we should probably compose ourselves. After all, this isn’t the ending to some sappy rom-com starring Hugh Grant.
I’m just an unhinged maniac, standing in front of a broken boy in the middle of a bloody war zone, asking him to be my partner in crime…?
Actually, it’s got a nice ring to it.
But it becomes painfully apparent when a throat clears from somewhere behind us, that we won’t be able to simply bask in this unprecedented new love for much longer. Not with a militia standing by, an evil menace on his way to exterminate us all, and the key to everything waiting patiently nearby.
The passive-aggressive sound forces my mouth away from Byron’s, and I peer at the hole in the stone wall. My brow raises at the surly glare of Officer Chevelle, his wicked smirk dampening the grouchiness just a tad.
“Very sweet,” he growls. “But could you please come in here? We have business to attend to.”
Eyes falling to Byron, I find him flushed and fluttering, and it’s almost painful, the thought of pulling away from him like this. After he just told me that he’s in love with me …
We should be shagging until our bodies shut down, not sobering up to go talk war .
But I know Officer Chevelle is right. The last thing I want is for anything to jeopardize the highly dangerous work I did to get this peace offering.
So I take just one more moment to touch Byron’s throat and gaze into his deep eyes while the mound beneath my fingers bobs and his fists slowly release my shirt he’s been gripping.
“Fuck, Leo,” he sighs. “You’re distracting as shit, you know that?”
I grin, quite pleased with that remark. “Thank you, Raph. You’re pretty bloody hypnotizing yourself.” I kiss his cheek.
“Okay.” Byron shakes his arms out. “Let’s go. Jesus, this is gonna be brutal…”
My grin flips into a frown as I read the apprehension on his face.
Ah, right…
I peek back up at the tiny window hole in the stone building. There are at least three of his friends gawking back at me, who scatter the moment our eyes meet.
I heard what they were saying when Byron was considering whether to come out here and speak to me— the walls are surprisingly thin for being made of rock. These people don’t trust me. It’s not exactly news, but before, I didn’t care. Now , I’d like them to accept me… Because of Byron.
He loves me, and I love him. I have no intention of letting him go.
He already said he wants to be with me… No takebacks.
“Let’s go, my furious love.” I grab his hand, giving him confidence in my gaze.
I can be rather charming when I set my mind to it. The situation in the prison was a complex one. Things were quite tense, and much of my behavior was being guided by my stubborn disdain for Felix and Lemuel, which I now see was nothing more than a coping mechanism.
But being with Byron, building our relationship—and it was one from the start, regardless of how hard he fought against it—showed me that the revenge had been highly romanticized in my mind. It was thrilling, and kinky at times… But I didn’t need it.
I only needed him.
Hopefully, his friends can see what Lemuel and Felix saw… That despite not having made the best first impression, I’m not actually a sneaky, traitorous plonker, and I love their friend, brighter than all the stars in all the galaxies.
If that doesn’t work, at least I have the key to the Warden’s surrender to offer them.
Byron and I stalk swiftly around the building, hand-in-hand, headed for the entrance. One way in, one way out. Maybe not the best place to be when a swarm of bloodthirsty animals are out to get you…
“Now you’re starting to sound like me, mate…” The voice echoes from within the trees. “A real Leo should probably be a bit less cynical.”
Glancing out to look for him, I think I catch a glimpse of his eyes—one of them mangled—his grubby gray fur and that smirk…
But he’s not actually there. The visions of him have been slowly fading off, back into my mind where he belongs. And I can’t tell if I’m relieved, or mourning another loss.
“Hey.” Byron’s voice catches me before we reach the doors. I blink down at him, and he cocks his head. “You good?”
I nod reticently, biting my lip as his eyes shift.
“You know you can tell me… if you’re seeing him. I think it’s kinda cool.”
My lips sweep into a smile that feels far too good for real life. Leaning down, I grasp his jaw and rumble over his lips, “You would. You’re a twisted little monster yourself, aren’t you, baby?”
He smirks and hums, swiping my mouth with his tongue. “I can’t wait for you to dive deeper into my depravity, violet eyes.”
I’m growling, all too eager to say sod it all and hump him up against a tree. But the door to the shack whips open, the familiar female rasp of Joy Jameson hollering, “Come on, sluts! Get in here before you get us all pinched!”
Byron pulls me inside, and they slam the door behind us. “Really? Pinched ?” He gives her a teasing look. “What are you, a 1940s gangster?”
She purses her lips. “Stick ’em up or I’ll pump you full of lead.”
Huffing in amusement, my face tips around to take in the conditions of this shabby place. The room has gone quiet, and I land on a whole slew of curiously appraising gazes, aimed right at me.
“Um… hello,” I mumble to the ragtag band of ready-made soldiers, squeezing Byron’s hand.
But this time, the glares don’t all give off kill the traitor vibes. If anything, it seems more like a family’s overprotective scrutiny of the new boyfriend .
The only person in the room I don’t know is a large, unnecessarily attractive blonde man, clutching the hand of the pink-haired dreamboat I met earlier, named Dash— this must be Kemper, then.
Byron has mentioned Dash before as his friend, the prisoner who escaped Alabaster Pen and reconnected with a former guard, Kellan Kemper.
Apparently, he and his partner came back from wherever they’ve been hiding to help Velle defeat The Ivory. Just like Luthor and Ren did. The notion of such loyalty spreads warmth in my chest.
These people genuinely care for each other. Whether prisoners or guards, killers or cops, from all different walks of life… They’re ready to lay down their lives for one another. It’s as baffling as it is remarkable.
No wonder they all hated me so much… In their eyes, I was stealing Byron away from where he clearly belongs by their sides.
And it’s not not true… I just hadn’t realized until I saw them together earlier, when Dash arrived, how strong their bond is.
And now I feel like even more of a wanker for isolating him the way I did—unintentionally or not.
Choosing to deescalate the situation in an overtly British way, I address Dash’s large Daddy of a partner. “You must be Kemper… We haven’t been properly introduced. I’m Trevel Fenwick.”
Ren scoots between us before I can shake his hand. “Let’s save the Alabaster Pen alumni meet-and-greet for later.” He folds his arms over his chest, serving me a vibrant blue glower. “You said a lot of stuff out there, Fenwick… Was it true ?”
“Hi, Ren. Good to see you again,” I sigh begrudgingly. “Were all of you eavesdropping on our conversation?”
The collective group of them nods, murmuring various versions of, duh , of course , and no shit .
Byron huffs, shaking his head and rubbing his eyes, though he seems unsurprised by his friends’ meddling.
“Did you mean it?” Dash blinks wide, hazel eyes at us. “’Cause it was… really romantic.” He bites back a swooning grin.
I open my mouth to answer him, but Ren snaps, “Not now, Dascha, you marshmallow. I want to know what this young man’s intentions are for my friend.”
“I’m certain we’re about the same age,” I rumble in amusement.
“Don’t talk back to me,” he barks. “I’m fully serious.
That dude is family . You mess with him, and you mess with me, plain and simple.
I don’t care if you’ve hypnotized him with your sexy accent, or your pretty eyes, or because you’re like the lovechild of Ozzy Osbourne and Shaggy from Scooby Doo and he thinks that’s hot for some reason.
I will not tolerate him being used in any way, shape, or form.
” Ren’s eyes flit to Byron. “He’s had enough of that for one lifetime. ”
Byron is shifting at my side, his palm becoming terribly sweaty where it’s engulfed in mine. The rest of the crew appear to be equally anticipating my response, and honestly, I’m not upset, or offended, or frustrated by them calling me out.
The only thing I am is awed at how much they care for Byron. I’m so bloody glad he has this type of support, knowing he never got it from his actual family, and I’m filled with a sudden sense of determination to prove myself. To them, but most of all, to him .
“Guys, can you please lay off of him?” Byron grumbles. “This isn’t a job interview. It’s been a crazy few weeks, but we… care about each other. A lot, so just—”
“Baby, I’m sorry to interrupt, but I feel I need to weigh in here,” I cut him off, addressing Ren and the rest of them.
“The truth is that I fully understand your doubts. I had them myself. You all haven’t seen me the way Byron has.
You’ve only seen me as the villain because, from the moment I arrived on this island, that was the role I took on.
Many things from my past made me feel like that was who I needed to be…
But most of all, it was because The Ivory wanted me to be the antihero.
And at first, he was the only person I had any real connection to here.
But it was all fake, and I know each of you can relate. ”
I witness them softening. Especially Officer Chevelle.