“Always nice to meet a… fan?” I croak, and he laughs again.
“I’m making you feel awkward, I’m sorry.” He shakes his head. “I was just pretty excited to find out you were here, and not, ya know… dead.”
I nod. “That’s nice of you to say.” A small grin slips through my previous unease.
He seems really sweet. Plus, he’s funny, and he saved me, and he’s… justmesmerizingto look at.
Did I just makeanothernew friend?! Eep.
“Where did you come from?” I ask, scooting closer on the bed, watching Angel while his face slants around to take in the room some more. “Are you… a prisoner?”
“In a way…” he murmurs, clamming up a bit. “I wasn’t supposed to be, but then I was… It’s a long story.”
“I’m sorry.” I frown. “I don’t want to take up your time. If you have to go…”
“I really shouldn’t stay,” he sighs. “Neither should you. Chances are whoever put you here will be coming back soon. You’ll wanna get gone before they show up.”
I swallow hard, remembering all the chaos from before he showed up and distracted me.
Kang. Trevel.
Lemuel is in trouble…
That crash.
“Do you know what that sound was?” I ask, unable to stop my eyes from sliding over his outfit when he stands up.
He’s about my height, close to six feet, similar build, taut slopes of muscle really highlighted by the skimpy ladies’ lingerie he’s wearing.
He turns his vibrant green gaze on me, catching me ogling.
I clear my throat, heat rushing up my neck. “Um, the explosion?”
“It wasn’t an explosion,” he says, concern etching his face. “The guard tower fell on the prison.”
What?!?!
My eyes spring wide in distress. “Fell??”
He nods. “Struck by lightning or something to do with the storm, probably. The whole East Wing and most of solitary is… restos.”
He makes a motion with his hand and a sound that means…it’sgone.
Rubble.
My eyebrow cocks.Is he Latinx?
How does he know so much about the prison??
My head is shaking over and over as I jump to my feet. “I have to go… find Lem. Make sure he’s okay. God, if he’s hurt, I will rip this entire fucking island to shreds—”
“Oh snap,” he chuckles softly, eyeing me with thrill. “The Carver está aquí! So cool…”He grabs me by the shoulders, forcing me to stop freaking out and focus. “Escúchame, Felix. Be careful out there. The walls of the prison are down. There are cartel men everywhere, especially on the east side of the island. They’re searching for him…”
His voice trails, and he swallows visibly, eyes darkening.
I can only nod, processing what he’s saying, and inferring what he’s not.
“The Ivory,” he rumbles, another distinct sparkle in his eyes when he says the name. “His room is… upstairs? Third floor?”
