Yes, he’sverygood at it.
But now, I’m beginning to think Byron needs something else. Something more substantial than a body who’s using him far more than he could ever use it. Byron will never get that from my prison.
It’s a shame really, but what can you do?
Considering my earlier conversation with Yari brings me away from memories of soft flesh beneath my fingertips, back to my pet.
I wonder what Jonathan is doing right now…
Tapping my phone screen back to life, I consider texting him. But then I frown it away.That would be weird. We don’t text like that… For no reason, just to chat.
Like I said to Yari, we’re not friends.
We used to be. Not close by any stretch of the imagination, but closer than we are now.
Maybe I could do something for him… Something other than putting a collar around his neck and whipping him with my belt when he’s bad. He can’t act like he doesn’t like it, because Iknowhe does. But still…Ican’t act like I’m doing it all for him.
If I were to do something expressly for him, it’d have to revolve around his mother. She’s the only person in this world he truly cares for, unconditionally.
A conversation comes back to me, from years ago…Man, we’ve been in each other’s lives for a long time.
Jonathan had asked me if I could have my men stop selling to his mother. I agreed, in a sort of flippant way, and Ididhave Mateo instruct his men to lose her contact info. But I’m pretty sure they just passed her off to Alejo’s guys when she started panicking, because, like I told him at the time, it’s a means to an end.
A junkie will always find a way to score.
The idea sticks in my brain, though.Maybe I could pull them all. Really do more, to hold up my end of the bargain. As a… friend.
I’m considering how I would even word this to Mateo without sounding insane when Yari squeaks.
My brows knit. “What is it?”
His eyes lift to mine, and he blinks over the wide, shiny teal. “Some of Dr. Love’s background came in… He has this patient, named Trevel Fenwick, who’s dating a Colombian girl, last nameAlvarez.”
My pulse is instantly racing.
“And she has a twin brother.”
I’m back.
Back in the concrete tomb.
Back in Alabaster Pen.
I’ve been breaking into the prison for weeks, wandering the halls, avoiding being caught, while accepting help from a mystery source watching out for me.
Stalking and observing.
The storm they’d been preparing for was, in fact, a wild one. The mansion lost power a couple times while we were there, and we wound up staying for five days before it was safe enough for the ferries to bring us back.
I loved it. More than anything, it solidified what I’ve been thinking for a while now.
I’m going to find a way to stay.
I think it’s really the best way to infiltrate The Ivory’s world. For all the security in place, the cameras and his bodyguards, none of it is truly thatsecure. The prison seems like it’s hanging on by a thread, and the island itself is so rife with secrets, it’s bustling at the seams. The best thing about being unseen is that I get to know them all.
I hear things I’m not supposed to hear, see things I’m not supposed to see. I’ve become the eyes of this island, supported only by theothereyes, in the prison’s control rooms.
There are people in there, watching. I’m fully certain that these people have seen me coming and going. But they haven’t sent Velle after me, nor have they told The Ivory.
