Either way, we’re back in survival mode, at all costs, and I think our men are now realizing why all the training over the last few months has been so important. They weren’t foolish enough to buy the Ivory’s silence as our victory—just like we weren’t. But we all held out hope.
Shit, maybe we are a bunch of fucking fools…
Because would ya look at our asses now?
Undermined. Tossed aside like garbage.
Playing second fiddle to a new troop of morally bankrupt guard dogs who remind me an awful lot of the Mon-stars fromSpace Jam.
Seriously. Bitch boy wannabe capos posing as correctional officers when their only real skill comes from the fact that they’re huge and dead inside. Serving their master like the large, braindead simpletons they are.
I’m not saying Brenner isn’t a complete moron, and Linetti doesn’t scream settling out of court for sexual assault allegations, but still. At the end of the day, they’re harmless compared to the assholes who have replaced us.
I sensed that something was off, even before Dr. Love showed up in the rec room. There was this calm in the air—the eye of the storm.The part where everyone thinks they’re safe fromthe twister, meanwhile, Helen Hunt and Bill Paxton are batting down the hatches.
Velle was already on edge, and he usually gets extra bitchy when he knows something is wrong, but can’t prove it. For me, it was the perfect time to bring the Pen Boy Posse downstairs for the first time in forever. Get out some aggression while helping my buddy Kang do the same.He sure as shit seemed like he needed it.
Next thing I knew, Lem was gathering myself and my partners up for a secret huddle.
“So you know how I’ve been working my connections for anything that might help take down the East Wing doctors?” Lem said in a hushed tone, and Velle smirked.
“Why, do you not like them?” He sneered.
Rook chuckled. “Yea, you almost never mention it.”
Lem gave us abe seriouslook. It was basically just his regular face, so I’m surprised I was even able to identify it. “Well, I found out that the reason Figueroa was transferred out of nowhere is that The Ivory needed help in Colombia.”
“Who the hell is Figueroa?” Rook asked.
“Some prick who worked with the East doctors, but isn’t actually a doctor,” Velle rumbled, eyeing Dr. Love. “He just up and disappeared a few weeks back. Help with what, exactly?”
Lem shrugged. “Operations. Cartel stuff. Who knows, the point is that he’s been moving people around. Why would he be doing that?”
“Why does he do half the shit he does?” I huffed. “Because he’s a sadistic fuckwad who worships chaos.”
“Exactly,” he said quietly. “It’s odd. Not only that, he’s pulling resources.”
“How do you know all this?” Velle cocked a brow at him.
“My P.I. He knows a few of The Ivory’s connections,” Lem explained. “Apparently, there’s an alliance of sorts that started in Vegas, and it’s in the works here too.”
We were all quiet for a moment.
“What does that have to do with the East doctors?” Vellle seemed outwardly skeptical, but I could tell there was something he wasn’t going to voice.
Something about this that he understood more than the rest of us.
“Not much except that with everyone tied up dealing with whatever is going on, I haven’t been able to get close enough to work on eradicating their asses.”
“I thought you said they’ve been quiet,” I mumbled.
“Irrelevant,” Lem grunted. “They still have to go. After what they did…”
His eyes drifted briefly to his serial killer boyfriend, who was shifting awkwardly next to Trevel Fenwick, watching the others having some heated argument.
Nonstop inmate drama, I’m telling you.
“I’ll keep an eye out,” Velle said in a tone projecting assurance. “Have the team keep their ears to the streets. But it might be time to initiate Plan B with those assholes…”
