Shadowman (Alabaster Penitentiary Book 5), page 26
Fear releases a fervent flood of adrenaline into my nervous system. I sincerely hope this isn’t what The Ivory has in store for me… Testing and experimentation, without the laws and regulations of a place like Riverwoods.
Is that… what Dr. Love does?
Alabaster Pen’s resident psych superstar, reigning over the East Wing??
The Warden presses yet another button, changing from the live feed to what looks to be recorded video. It’s date and time-stamped, but I don’t know what date and time it is, so I can’t tell when this is from.
“You see, Trevel, the thing with Dr. Love is that I brought him here solely to examine my most prized possession, Felix Darcey. Which he certainly did, and did well. That said, it seems as if spending all of his time with his subject may be… shifting his objectives.”
My forehead creases, muscles stiffening at his words. “What do you mean… And who’s Felix Darcey?”
The name sounds rather familiar… But I’m drawing a blank.
“Felix Darcey is an inmate. #89. He goes by The Carver.” He speaks calmly, then pauses to let his words sink in as movement on the screen catches my attention. It’s Dr. Love…
The Carver… That’s who Byron said killed his friend.
It sounds so familiar, but I just can’t…
My confusion is set aside while I watch Dr. Love stepping into a room. He’s out of sight for only a moment, and when he returns to the screen, he’s… smiling. It’s so foreign, I barely recognize him at first.
He’s speaking to someone just out of view, but I can’t hear what he’s saying. Though it would appear that he’s not just smiling… He’s smiling at someone.
The Ivory taps a button, and sound comes through the speakers. Not crystal clear, but audible enough for me to make out my former doctor speaking.
“It’s impossible not to miss you, sweet monster. Even when we’re apart for mere minutes…”
What the bloody fucking hell??
My eyes are as wide as can be when Dr. Love shifts enough that the person he’s speaking to becomes visible. A man, clearly younger than him, with fair skin and chestnut brown hair, wearing black-framed glasses. Lemuel’s hands are on his waist…
The lad looks very fucking familiar, but I’m finding it difficult to breathe at the moment. My gut has crawled all the way up my throat and is trying to jump out of my mouth.
The young man is gazing up at Lemuel, smiling a wide, beaming expression as he toys with one of Lemuel’s dreadlocks. “So… show me then, Doctor Want.”
Wait…
Lem’s hands slide down to cup the kid’s ass, and my pulse is now pounding like a bass drum in my ears. He leans down, lashes fluttering. And the world crashes to a halt when he drops a kiss on the kid’s mouth… So gentle, I can almost feel it myself.
Everything is falling around me. Cement bricks are cracking and crumbling, the ceiling crushing me where I sit. I can’t catch a proper breath, and I hate it.
What sort of fresh hell is this??
Dr. Love is… He’s kissing that bloke??
Dr. Love is gay?? Since bloody when?!
Eyes flitting up to The Ivory, I find him watching me closely, while I just sit here, dumbfounded and fucking bleeding inside.
Felix Darcey…
The Carver…
Killed Byron’s friend… Lemuel is studying him…
I gasp. “Hang on… That serial killer who was terrorizing New York City??”
The Ivory simply blinks, confirming without an actual answer that this is correct. And I’m reeling so hard, I’m dizzy.
Of course, I’ve heard of The Carver. Everyone has. His case was all over the bloody news for months. I’d forgotten that his name was Felix Darcey, but it’s all coming back to me now…
The reports said he died; was shot and killed by police when they were attempting to arrest him, which is why I didn’t put two and two together when Byron said The Carver killed his friend.
He’s not dead. He’s here, being seen by Dr. Love… In more ways than one, apparently!
I stare blankly at The Ivory. This is bloody bonkers…
The Carver is Dr. Love’s patient.
Dr. Love is sleeping with his patient?!
My head is swimming, and I feel like I could collapse. My eyes are stuck on Dr. Love, the man who’d been my whole world, and the doe-eyed monster he’s apparently fucking.
The psychopath who stole him from me.
Felix… Darcey.
Coiled and volatile, I’m shattered and hating it. At the very least, I used to cling to the idea that Dr. Love was straight, and that was why we could never be… anything. I mean, I was sure of it.
Like the time that I arrived early for my appointment, and he was just returning from lunch with a woman. I pretended not to be subtly watching them, pretended not to overhear their conversation. But I knew it was his girlfriend.
Gabrielle… Of course I remember her name. I’ve never forgotten it. I’d seen her outside the building before, heard his assistant mention her.
That was who he was dating. That was his type…
Not this murderous, preppy twink!
“What the fuck…” I choke on the words, watching the screen with wide eyes, unable to look away.
It’s blindingly clear that they’re not just shagging. They look… happy. They look like they’re in love… Deep love. The kind that’s visible from miles away. I cannot even fathom that I’m seeing Dr. Lemuel Love, robot man, looking at anyone like that, let alone a guy.
Let alone that guy.
A serial killer…
He’s in a relationship with a serial killer.
When the two of them finally pry apart, I’m nauseated by how obsessed they appear to be. All flushed and starry-eyed, touching each other as if they physically can’t keep their hands off. My entire body is heavy, watching them display such sickeningly sweet affection, in their own little bubble, without a care in the world.
But that’s not the case now, is it?
They’re not on a relaxing weekend getaway, they’re in a prison, surrounded by cameras and prisoners and guards… and former bloody patients!
“Let’s get you clean, dirty thing,” Lemuel says, and I’m rippling.
“How long has he been fucking this bloke??” I seethe, eyes practically glued to the screen as I watch Dr. Love take the hand of his smitten pal, the two of them scampering down the hall in the opposite direction. “I mean, how is that… Why are you showing me this??”
The Ivory’s lips twitch. He slaps the laptop shut, and I’m forced to focus on him now, though it seems impossible. I feel like my organs are failing, blood rushing in my ears. My palms are sweating and my heart is racing…
I’m falling apart.
Reclining, Manuel Blanco opens his desk drawer, pulling out an orange. “I wanted you to have all of the information.” He begins peeling it while speaking, “Surely, you see what I mean. Lemuel is in dire need of some perspective.”
My eyes lift slowly from the orange he’s dismembering, delicately and with precision, to his face. He gives nothing away in his expression, but still. I’m choosing to read between the lines. Possibly inferring a bit…
He’s not pleased about Dr. Love and Felix Darcey’s relationship.
So then why is he allowing them to have it??
“What does that have to do with me?” I ask a question I know he has to answer, attempting to rein in my frustrations.
“Well, for starters, I believe giving him another patient to focus on is necessary.” Manuel’s head slants. “But more importantly, you two share a history. There’s a sense of familiarity there. If anyone under this roof—other than Mr. Darcey, of course—knows how Lemuel Love operates… it’s you.”
My thoughts are churning as I stare at him, like a hamster on a wheel.
“What it boils down to is that I’m allowing Lemuel to stay, and encouraging him to drop his guard. Treating you again will play a part in that.” He carefully tears away one of the orange slices, examining it briefly. “Who knows what your mere presence here could do to him… Without him even realizing it.”
His eyes flick to mine as he pops the orange into his mouth, chewing slow and deliberate, not once breaking our stare. Irises glittering like polished orbs of black onyx.
My lips part, but it takes a moment before the words come out. “Are you sure? He did up and leave me after three years.” A mass of new resentments overwhelms my limbs until my fingers curl into fists and my jaw tightens uncontrollably. “He abandoned me for this job… For Felix Darcey, apparently.” Rage tears up my throat with my words. I have to swallow it down like a jagged pill. “What makes you think he’ll… care?”
The Warden croons, “Darling, you were his first.” Oh, how I loathe the way that comment makes my stomach flip. He aims one of his orange slices at me. “Don’t underestimate the significance of nostalgia. His feelings are irrelevant. In his eyes, he made you, and he trusts himself. It’s the downfall of most brainwashing egotists, I’m afraid.”
An uncharacteristic frown tugs at his lips, as if something about that statement is bothering him, but my head is spinning too fast to focus on it.
This whole thing is sort of mad.
I can’t believe he actually wants me to start seeing Dr. Love again just to… What? Spy on him? Entrap him? Disrupt his flow somehow? Or maybe a bit of all of it.
Part of me wonders why he’s insistent on keeping Dr. Love here, rather than simply firing, or even killing him. But this does seem more Manuel Blanco’s style. He’s undoubtedly a keep your friends close and your enemies closer type evil genius.
And if we’re being honest, it doesn’t seem like the relationship with Darcey is his only Lemuel-related grievance…
Letting out a discreet breath, I lean forward. “Maybe I should befriend The Carver. Get to him that way…” I suggest, trying to keep hidden my own, suddenly rapacious desire for revenge.
I can’t help myself. I wanted it before, after Dr. Love left, then sent for me like I’m some useless object rather than a person. But now… Now that I know the true nature of what he’s been up to, I’m foaming at the mouth. For the doctor and his murderous beau.
“Trevel, I appreciate your enthusiasm,” Manuel says blithely. “But pernicious or not, Felix Darcey is extremely valuable to me. I’m not willing to part with him, under any circumstances. I already almost lost him once due to an oversight. I will not risk it again.” I must be pouting, because he grins, giving me a look that’s condescending, if sympathetic to my plight. “Do me a favor and focus all of that animosity on the man responsible. I promise I’ll make it worth your while.”
Pursing my lips, I nod in agreement.
Fine. If he wants me to infiltrate Dr. Love, I’ll do just that. Felix Darcey could, through no fault of my own, wind up getting caught in the crosshairs.
Cost of business.
“Good,” The Ivory chirps, smiling and chuffed once more as he pops another orange slice into his mouth. He holds one out for me, lifting a brow.
Sod it. I accept, munching on the tangy fruit with my new mate, Manuel Blanco.
This is what he wanted… The reason he’s been holding me hostage here, love bombing me like he’s David bloody Koresh. This was his plan all along.
I’m his Love plant.
“Your loyalty will be rewarded, Trevel,” he says calmly, but with savage undertones. “Big changes are afoot, with the potential to rock the very foundation of this prison.” His eyes are rounded and unblinking, prompting me to gulp down a mouthful of nerves with my orange. “A storm is coming… And trust me, you’ll want to be on my side when the lightning strikes.”
Leaving his office, I’m apprehensive, considering the forces that brought me here. I’m remembering Alice, and Andres… who died because of me, one way or another. I’m also thinking about who didn’t; the person Manuel Blanco thought I’d killed, until discovering the truth.
Where are they now? Does he know? Are they even aware of how significant they are in his world?
For hours afterward, and well into the night, I’m wading the choppy waters of uncertainty, contemplating this ivory storm I’ve happened upon…
And all the rubble it could bury me beneath, if I’m not careful.
Today, I’m knackered, and cranky to boot.
Not in the mood for cuffs or shackles, or cold showers or grouchy guards or sitting alone at a cafeteria table, staring at the most depressing dinner ever, like Beefaroni and a juice box.
Truthfully, I should be so lucky, because that’s by far one of the least disgusting meals they provide here—a fact that’s sad in its own right.
Despite how unenthusiastic I am, I have no choice but to endure the miserable monotony. Though there is one shining beacon of light amidst the darkness…
Byron Kang. A neon color when everything else is drab.
I don’t even register who else is at his table, or what they’re doing… I’m too busy studying the lines of Byron’s face, the downward curve of his lips, and the way the bottom one is jutting out the tiniest bit in a pout that I both love and hate at the same time.
Why is he so sad? Don’t get me wrong, it looks good on him, but still. I want to choke the life out of whatever, or whomever, is making him so gloomy.
But then I notice it. The thing that’s most certainly responsible for his angst… A fresh-faced and timid-looking bespectacled master of camouflage known as Felix Darcey, who’s parked right across from my sexy fighter.
Not everyone thinks that adorable freakshow is so great. At least I have one person on my side.
Felix Darcey haters club, right here.
The others are clearly welcoming of The Carver’s presence. But the hot angry boy is not, and I don’t blame him. He said his friends—Luthor and Ren—don’t care about The Carver murdering his other friend, confirmed by the way they’re chatting and laughing with the doe-eyed doctor-stealer.
The rest of the meal is spent with me watching Byron while trying not to be super obvious. For some odd reason, Joy allows him and his mates to use her cellphone, and I’m quite curious to know who they’re speaking to… Someone important, I assume.
My curiosity is overpowered, though, when I note something in the looks and smiles between Byron and Officer Jameson… I can’t be certain, but it seems flirtatious, reminiscent of a possible fling.
She’s the one who gave him Skittles the other day… If that isn’t a sign that two people have bumped uglies, then I don’t know what is.
My mood sours at the thought. I can barely even enjoy toying with The Carver by locking eyes and waving at him.
Before I know it, we’re all being herded back. Felix, the golden child, is already gone, most likely cozying up with Dr. Love somewhere in the East Wing…
Why does he get to have unlimited prison sleepovers?? I’m mates with the Warden, for fuck’s sake.
Meanwhile, Byron is walking behind his friends, head down, shoulders hunched. He just looks too sad… And while I’m certain associating with me will only ruin him more in the long run, I’m too enamored by him to stay away.
Inching up behind him, I whisper, “Why the long face?”
He jumps a foot in the air. It’s hysterical.
“Fuck, man…” He sighs, shaking his head. “You gotta stop doing that.”
“Or you should be paying more attention to your surroundings.” I lift an accusatory brow. “Isn’t that part of the fighter training?”
He glowers at me, and mother of god, is it sexy. “Yea, well… You’re surprisingly nimble. Like a…”
“Kitten?” I grin, and he squints.
“I was gonna say squirrel, but sure. We can go with yours.”
I chuckle, then bite my lip. “So, who were you speaking to on the phone?”
Byron’s face goes momentarily nervous, but he covers it up. “No one.”
“If you say so.” I huff.
He gives me a slightly narrowed look, lips twitching. That expression is downright lethal.
His eyes fall to my mouth, and my dick moves. “Cut’s almost gone, huh?”
“Too bad,” I hum. “I kind of liked it.”
He scoffs, though the grin is a little bigger this time. “Weirdo.”
“Oh, Raph, you have no idea…” I sigh, and he frowns.
“Why do you keep calling me that?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?”
“Uh, I would. That’s why I asked.” He gives me a pointed look.
Excitement fizzles inside me at this playful banter. God, I love it. I don’t want it to end…
Unfortunately, it does when we reach the doorway that splits us.
“See you around, Raph,” I hum teasingly, winking at him.
He simply shakes his head like I’m tapped as I turn away, following the other guard who’s bringing me to my cell. As hard as it is, I force myself not to look back. Keeping him on his toes by playing the mysterious stranger.
Hey, I have to at least try, right?
I’ve yet to figure out Byron’s situation. I was sensing something between him and Joy… But then he could be bisexual, or bi-curious, although he does behave rather straight, tension and sexy fist fights aside. It’s hard to tell whether he’s even interested in my throwing myself at him.
Still, it’s not just about how bloody fine he is, or how he looks at you like he could tear you apart with his teeth and you’d thank him for it. There’s something buried deeper than the muscle and ink and smoldering looks.
Whatever it is, I want at it. Desperately.
So I’ll keep digging. Keep scampering after him like the lost puppy I so clearly am, in hopes he might one day toss me a bone. Literally.
A big one, too, based on how it felt jamming into me. And looked, tenting his pants. I’m guessing at least twenty-four centimeters. Fingers crossed.
Back in my cell, I tidy up, then pace for a while, waiting for Kent. Typically, he comes to check on me after each meal to see if I need anything… Within reason. Superficial requests only.
But tonight, I’m not taking no for an answer. He’s going to give me what I want. And what I want is Byron Kang.
