The meeting kicks off as it does. There’s food and drinks, but I don’t eat with these gringos.I’d rather grab Colombian food from the little place uptown with Yari and eat it in the hotel.
I’ve just finished telling them about Dr. Love and all of his qualifications. I don’t think they really care, so in an effort to wrap this up, I get to the part I know we alllove… The money.
“I need another three million,” I say.
The accountant finally looks up from his sashimi.
“That’s not going to be possible right now, I’m afraid,” Russo Sr. says, as if it’s really his fucking call.
“Why not?” I ask, tone bored. “I’ve held up my end of the agreement, making all of your problems disappear like I’m fucking Houdini.” My face slopes in the governor’s direction. “How’s your son?”
His eyes immediately harden. He knows why I’m asking this, and it’s not because I care about the well-being of his offspring.
It’s because I did him a favor a few years ago and took in a kid that really didn’tneedto be in prison. I mean, some of them don’t—Lexington Deon was more of a blunder from a poor teenager who’s too smart for his own good.
But Byron Kangreallydoes not deserve to be in any prison, let alone mine.
Okay, maybe some light stalking, but as a first offense, that’s nothing. A protection order, max. Not even, if the parties being stalked don’t want to press charges, which I’mcertainMichelangelo Russo would not.
And yet, I have #62 because Antonio Russo doesn’t approve of his son’s lifestyle.I.e. being gay more than the rape fantasies, I’m sure.
It’s highly offensive to me. I guarantee no one else in this room knows about Byron and Michelangelo’s tryst.If I felt like being spiteful, I could let it slip out, and Russo Jr. knows that.
“Look, we might be able to move some things around,” he says, deliberately ignoring my question.Transparent prick.“But we can’t allocate funds for a shrink to study The Carver. It’s frivolous and unnecessary. Not to mention you have two doctors already.”
“They’re really more suited to the other inmates,” I say blithely. “Like Kieran O’Malley, for example. They’ve been doing a number on him lately.” My eyes fling to District Attorney Feldman, who’s become awfully shifty all of a sudden. “Imagine if he’d gone to trial?? Heeasilycould have pled insanity. I mean, that boy is clearly loco.” I fold my hands on the table. “How muchdidthe O’Malley’s give you to fix it? I’d heard seven figures…”
“We can find the budget,” Feldman cuts me off nervously.
I smirk as he waves off the accountant’s look of obvious concern.
“But again, it can’t be for Love,” Russo says. “We’ll have to call it building maintenance or renovations or something. You’re finally fixing that guard tower,right?”
He gives me an obvious look, and I roll my eyes. “Yes, yes, of course.”
As if the people who’ll be fudging the paperwork are actually in the room right now…
Idiota.
Russo Jr. sits back, letting out a breath. “Thank you, Ivory. As always, we are grateful for the work you do.” His condescending tone makes me want to stab him in the trachea. But I refrain.For now.“Speaking of inmates, how is Dascha Reznikov settling in?”
My mind goes to Alexander’s son, the pretty Russian bank robber with hisvastplane of emotional issues. “It’s the Pen,” I say by way of answer, shrugging. “He’s miserable, like the rest of them.”
Russo grins, that smug puta thing I’d reallyloveto see wiped off his face. “Good.”
Maybe someday…
The meeting wraps up and Yari and I leave, stopping for our takeout on the way to The Plaza. But I’m up in my head. Thinking about my island and my prisoners.
About Dascha, and Byron Kang, and Lex Luthor Deon. The ones who really shouldn’t be there, though in a way, I’m glad they are.
That sounds bad, I’m sure, but I’m a bad person, so it tracks.The point is thatifI had a heart pumping actual blood in my chest, I might feel glad that they have one another.
My first thought when Byron arrived was that he needed companionship. I figured having Warren Xavier around might give him the opportunity for a proxy—in the same general way I used Warren at Edge.
He’s good at it, after all…
My thoughts drift to the hallway that time… When Jonathan used Warren for his own proxy purposes.
