Shadowman (Alabaster Penitentiary Book 5), page 50
“I know that, but I like hanging out with them,” he murmurs. “And you. If I’d known killing Kieran would make you hate me, I might’ve… reconsidered.”
My mouth is just hanging open. I have no earthly motherfucking clue what to say to something like that.
Is he fucking with me?? He has to be. Serial killers aren’t… thoughtful? Considerate of people’s feelings?
“What the fuck are you even talking about?” I mutter, releasing him and sitting back. “You’re a goddamn lunatic…”
That makes him smile.
Okay, I’m sufficiently disturbed at the turn this is taking.
“Yea, that’s a fact.” He huffs. “Listen, like I said to you the day you broke my glasses… You can fuck me up if that’s what you need to do. I get it, and I’ll take it. Not that I think I could ever take you in a fight…”
“You couldn’t,” I grunt.
“I’m just saying.” He chuckles. “I respect the vengeance, trust me, I do. But one thing I will not allow you, or Trevel, to do is hurt Lemuel. That’s where I draw the line.”
My brows lift while I consider his wacky words. I hate that he’s getting through to me, but I can’t stop recognizing the reality in all this.
This path of revenge we’re on… It’s a vicious cycle. As long as people keep getting hurt, someone will always feel the need to avenge them.
If either of them hurts Trevel, I’ll fucking hurt them in return. And then they’ll hurt me… When does it end?
I’m suddenly very tired. So very exhausted by all of this.
More than anything, I just want Trevel to come back. I actually glance at the door, praying he’ll come striding through right now, alive and well. Tall and pretty, with those peculiar eyes and puffy pink lips sloped into one of his smirks. His deep voice with that accent talking so much nonsense, but purposefully excluding the real stuff. The stuff I want…
Bright white flashes outside the window, thunder rumbling with it, like the roar of a thousand lions. It rattles the walls.
I despise not knowing what Trevel’s doing, and if he’s okay. I’m antsy about it, feeling like a piece of me is missing and I don’t know where it is. It’s ludicrous… But apparently, we’ve become sort of codependent ourselves.
Jesus, how and when the hell did that happen??
Most of all, in the back of my mind, I truly hate how he jumped at the chance to take Lemuel. To be alone with him…
“I’m getting really worried.” Darcey squirms beneath me.
I roll off of him with a sigh, getting up and sauntering over to the window. “That was sorta the point…”
“Byron, I know you’re worried about Trevel,” he says, ignoring the glare I shoot his way. “They’re both out there in the storm—”
“Trevel knows what he’s doing,” I mutter, gulping down my uncertainty as I watch the trees thrashing.
“I saw your face…” he hums, and I peer in his direction once more. “When he kissed you. There’s no hiding that look. I’ve worn it myself, way too many times.”
“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” I argue, and it feels defensive. Heat is rushing up my neck.
“It doesn’t all have to be a fight, Byron,” he rasps. “Resigning yourself to the fucked-up reality is freeing. Believe me…”
I’m gawking at him, lips parted. This little shit is making sense, and it’s making me want to beat his ass even more.
Because he has a point. Maybe accepting what Trevel is to me instead of focusing on what he isn’t will help us… become something real.
A bolt of lightning interrupts my thoughts, so bright it flashes white into the room. There’s an immediate boom louder than any thunder I’ve ever heard; a crackling rumble, like a rift in the sky.
Gazing out the window, I take a step forward. But a crash has me stumbling back. A great thundering blast so significant it shakes the foundation beneath us. The walls rattle, things tipping over. A painting actually falls, smashing on the floor.
Okay, that’s not thunder… It felt like a missile launched right outside.
“What the fuck was that?!” Darcey gasps.
“I don’t know.” I’m not trying to seem affected, but my heart is racing wildly in my chest, adrenaline quaking my extremities.
“Did something blow up? Like a… transformer, or…?” Darcey keeps asking questions, as if I’m not stuck in this room with him, working with all the same information he is.
My gaze is stuck out the window as I approach it hesitantly, looking around for any sign of what might’ve happened. But all I can see are trees.
“It wasn’t loud enough to have happened here,” I mumble, mostly to myself. “It was… farther away…”
Maybe… from the prison.
“I gotta get out of here.” Darcey is yanking at his restraints, really spazzing out, rocking back and forth like a nutcase. “Lem could be hurt. I have to go find him!”
“You’re not going anywhere,” I hiss. “Calm the hell down.”
“I can’t,” he huffs, out of breath from wiggling around to no avail. “He’s out there. Something is happening… I can’t just fucking sit here!”
“Well, that’s not your call, now is it?” I fold my arms over my chest.
He stares up at me helplessly. It gives me some minute satisfaction that’s not really placating me right now.
Shouting from outside distracts me, but I still can’t fucking see anything through the damn window.
This room has a shit view, man. It’s not high enough.
I bet if I went upstairs, I could see everything…
“You go then.” Darcey’s voice recaptures my attention. “Please, Byron… Go check on them. I need to know that he’s okay—”
“I’m not doing shit for you,” I growl.
“Not for me!” he whimpers. “For Trevel. He’s with Lem… If they’re in trouble, you could help them. Him…” he corrects, noting the look on my face. “You care about Trevel, Byron, I know you do. Whatever you guys are doing, it doesn’t matter. You care…”
My jaw is tight, muscles straining all over. Because he’s fucking right, again, and I fucking hate it. I am freaking out a little…
Trevel could be hurt. Whatever that was came from the exact direction he was headed…
There’s a sinking feeling in my gut I can’t ignore. Fighting off the reality isn’t working anymore.
Something is wrong.
Giving myself a few more seconds to weigh the options, I inevitably give up and stomp over to Darcey, checking his restraints. I double-check the area around him to make sure there’s nothing he can grab to get himself out.
I can’t believe I’m about to leave him alone…
But I have to. I need to make sure he’s alright.
“Shut the fuck up and stay fucking put,” I grumble. “I’ll be right back.”
“Thank you,” he breathes out, voice uneven with fear.
“I’m not fucking doing this for you.”
Leaving the room, I have honestly no idea what I’m doing or where I’m going. But I head for the stairs. ’Cause why not?
I figure getting up higher will get me answers faster than running out into the woods. Plus, who knows where The Ivory is… His men could be searching for me and Trevel, being that we technically escaped and all.
I need to find Trevel before they find me. I assume they’d be less likely to shoot on sight if I’m with him… Right?
So far, this night feels like a manic dream. From the doors to the prison opening out of nowhere, to leaving—being outside, for the first time in years—to the sex with Trevel, the chase, and then the capture of our enemies… Man, a lot has happened in the last hour.
Typical Alabaster Pen… Years of nothing and then bam! A lifetime of exciting shit happens in a few minutes.
Climbing the large white marble staircase, I keep quiet, in case I’m not alone. It seems almost unfathomable that I would be. The place is absolutely gargantuan. It’s like three mansions in one. But I haven’t seen or heard anyone other than us since we’ve been in here. Still, that doesn’t mean much. It’s spread out enough that I doubt you can hear what people are doing in other areas.
I’m jacked up to the max right now, terrified that The Ivory is going to pop out from around every corner. It’s fully plausible that he could be here… And as soon as I reach the third floor, I stop to gulp. Because it would appear that I’m now on his floor.
Great. Just wonderful…
So this is where I die.
It’s immediately obvious that this is where he resides. This floor isn’t divided up the same way the second floor is, with bedrooms one by one. This level is its own mansion, and the whole place just screams Ivory; from the sheer excess of space, furniture, and lavish accoutrement, to the walls, adorned with erotic artwork and what looks like some kind of mural made of feathers and barbed wire. I can feel him up here… And it’s freaking me the hell out.
Keeping close to the walls, I use the lack of power to my advantage. Remembering my stalking days, I’m stepping lithely, breathing shallow. Staying in the darkness to avoid being seen.
I pass room after room—a gym, an office, a study. There’s a separate, smaller staircase, which appears to go both down and up. Maybe to the roof?
This building was clearly designed by the same person who designed Alabaster Pen… It’s a fucking maze. By far the most peculiar home I’ve ever been in.
At the end of a long corridor, I come face to face with the primary suite; a bedroom so large, it could fit three of Dr. Love’s rooms inside of it.
This is The Ivory’s bedroom.
Fuck…
I know I shouldn’t go in. It’s suicide. If he’s in there, I’m dead.
But I can’t help my curiosity. Furthermore, I have to assume he has windows with a great view—like his office in the prison does.
Tiptoeing closer, I peek through the open doorway. I don’t think anyone’s in here…
Stepping inside carefully, I glance around in awe. It truly is the King’s chambers. That’s exactly how it looks. Regal.
Royalty rests its evil head here.
There’s a set of French doors at the far side of the room. Bingo. Jumping into action, I forgo snooping and head straight for them. I can see right away that they lead out to a large balcony.
The winds are so strong, I have to grip the handle tight and pull toward myself to keep the door from flying open. It’s brutal out there… Rain pelting and stinging my face. I can barely see through it, but I manage to gaze out into the storm, at a view that literally steals my breath.
Wow…
Despite Mother Nature’s fury, I’m astonished. From up here, everything looks so picturesque. Stunning in its misery. Skies of dark gray tinted green from the storm oversee a beckoning obsidian ocean. Trees like skeletons performing a ritualistic dance.
It’s so mesmerizing, I almost miss it. But when my eyes focus, they widen, despite the pelting raindrops.
“Holy fuck…” The words gust from my lips.
Alabaster Penitentiary… has a fucking hole in it.
A large structure, what looks to be the guard tower—I remember passing it when I was running from Trevel earlier—has broken off near the middle. And apparently, it fell right onto the prison.
That’s what that sound was…
“Oh my God. What the… shit,” I gasp, wiping rain and disbelief out of my eyes.
The destruction is staggering. I have a bird’s-eye view from way up here, and it doesn’t even look real. Like a photograph taken by a drone for some National Geographic magazine type shit.
I’m just gaping and balking at the damage, unable to move. Nearly half the prison is just… gone. Nothing but rubble. The guard tower clearly hit the East Wing, and the impact took down the rest because of its weak goddamn structure.
“Fuck…” I shiver as time speeds up, panic sweeping through my entire body.
Shit shit shit. Trevel was going there… At least, I think he was. Dammit, why didn’t he tell me where he was going?!
Fuck! Luthor and Ren…
Joy, Rook, Velle…
People were in there! People I care about…
“Shit. Fuck,” I mumble to myself, mind racing, limbs buzzing with a need for action.
I gotta go. Now now right now.
I need to go check on my friends.
Finding Trevel and making sure he’s okay is even more urgent now.
I won’t be able to handle it if he’s… not.
Gulping down the dread crawling up my throat, I dart back inside. But before I can close the door and run, something stops me. Yet another loud bang! It scares shit out of me, and I jump.
But this sound is very different from the others. It’s instantly recognizable.
Fireworks…
I’m back out on the balcony in a flash, catching the tail-end of green fizzling off in the distance. Barely ten seconds later, there’s another thunk, followed by a whoosh, then an explosion of blue, embers falling like a waterfall of color.
Definitely not a flare gun. These are fucking fireworks, like the ones you’d watch on the Fourth of July, coming from the other side of the island.
It dawns on me as a third pops off, a shower of sparkling white…
Luthor and Ren.
They love fireworks. It’s one of their very few shared interests, and they talk about it all the time.
Fireworks over the ocean…
Fuck. That’s them. It has to be.
Either one of them, or both.
Maybe it’s a signal.
I have to go.
Shit, but what about Trevel?
There’s too much going on. This is all so fucked.
Either way, I have to get the hell out of this mansion and go in that direction.
Leaving the Warden’s bedroom, I’m struggling to stay quiet when all I want to do is barrel through this fucking place. The prison is on the other side of the island, but it’s no more than a mile and a half from here. It’s dangerous, but fuck it. I have to go.
I’m on autopilot as I move, leaving the mansion the way we came, through the garden. This place is really something else… It’s almost unfathomable. Ominous, creepy as hell, but somehow beautiful.
Just like Manuel Blanco.
The mansion almost feels like an extension of him, emphasizing the sensation that he’s everywhere, even when you can’t see him.
As soon as I’m in the woods again, I’m on even higher alert. There are voices coming from all around. The last thing I want to do is stop, but I can’t risk being spotted by The Ivory’s guys, so I take cover behind a tree, listening while people run around, clearly in distress. Up ahead, I see that stone house, remembering how Trevel fucked me into the ground just outside of it only about an hour ago.
I swear to God, I’m lucid dreaming…
People are coming in and out of the house, guys rushing off in different directions, yelling at each other in Spanish. I can’t understand much of what they’re saying, but one word stands out above all the others…
Jefe.
They’re looking for The Ivory.
Jesus fuck, was he inside the prison when it fell??
Could The Ivory be… dead?
No time to think about that. As soon as the coast is clear, I take off running once more, zipping in between the trees, sticking to a separate path.
What I wouldn’t give for a compass right now…
Based on where I know the East Wing to be, I’m just heading back in the direction we came. Since the fireworks came from somewhere along the shore, I’m straying farther east, peering through the trees to get a view of the coast. But the rubble from the fallen guard tower is blocking a direct route. I’d have to either go all the way around to check the shore for Luthor and Ren, or head more inland to go for Trevel.
I come to a full stop, looking left, then right.
Luthor and Ren are one way. Trevel, the other.
My heart is leaping so hard, I’m dizzy.
Soaking wet, I’m shivering from the cold, and from the uncertainty in my chest. Raindrops tumbling from my hair, running over my trembling lips…
Without thinking, I take a step, my foot crunching on a fallen branch.
“Don’t move!” a voice barks.
My hands fly up when a shadowy figure comes out from around a tree, aiming a gun at my face. Blood is rushing in my ears as I try to make him out… It’s so fucking dark and my vision is obstructed by the rain.
He approaches me slowly, two more people emerging behind him.
“Byron?” Trevel says my name, and I exhale, releasing the breath I’d been holding.
He’s here. He’s… still here.
Thank fuck, he’s alright.
Trevel rushes to me, warmth blooming in my chest the closer he gets, and the more I’m able to verify that he’s actually here and unharmed. I have just enough time to register who he’s with—Kent, who’s lowering his gun, and Dr. Love, arms still tied behind his back—before Trevel is wrapping himself around me. Hugging me. Holding me.
And suddenly, he’s holding me up; keeping me upright because I feel like I could collapse. I’m just so glad to see him… I hadn’t even realized how scared I was until right fucking now.
I didn’t allow myself to feel it… The fear of losing him. But with his arms around me, his firm body pressing into mine and the crook of his neck like the perfect place to rest my weary head, I can’t help it. I melt against him, locking my arms around his waist as the stress of everything going on falls away.
“I’m so glad you’re alright,” he hums, fingers combing through my wet hair.
“I… I had to come find you.” I shudder the words, my lips brushing the soft flesh of his throat. “I was… worried.”
He pulls back, forcing me to untangle from him, taking my face in his hands. He’s… smiling. “That’s incredible, my sweet perfect fury.”
I’m trying to scowl, but I’m sure it’s not working. No matter how uncertain things are between us, I have to acknowledge how much more right everything feels when we’re together. I’m not sure if it is, but it feels that way, and right now, I need that comfort.
