I still think if he did, he’d have been all over me weeks ago.
Metaphorically, of course.
Callate.
“Any ideas about where Lemuel stands?” Yari asks him.
“Doesn’t much matter now, does it?” The Ivory shrugs. “I had a nice chat with Trevel… He’ll resume his sessions with the good doctor. We’ll see if that accomplishes anything.”
“You think it will?”
“Probably not,” he snorts, sipping again. “But I’ll get some use out of that miscommunication.” He sighs. “And in terms of Angelito, well… Looks like we’re back to square one.”
My heart stops. Honest to God, I flatline when I hear my name.
Back to square one…?
What does that mean??
“I hate to say this, but…” Yari’s tone is hesitant. Rightfully so, judging by the way el jefe is glaring at him right now. “Are you sure he’s… stillpresent?”
My eyes have never stared at anything as hard as I’m watching Diablo’s face right now.
Black irises elucidated, his expression is one I’ve never seen before, especially on him. The mound in his throat dips, his posture visibly rigid, as if his very essence is thoroughlyaffectedby this conversation.
“Yes, Yari,” he speaks so quietly, I can barely hear him. “I am sure. The forty-eight hours I spent thinking he was dead were…” His voice dries up and he clears his throat. I’m not breathing. “He’salive. I know he is. And I will get him back. Come hell or high water… mi pajarito volverá a mí. Hewillcome back to me.”
Swallowing is difficult; dry and thick, like I’m gulping down a mouthful of pills.
I’m bewildered by so much of what I’ve just heard…
But it’s interrupted when a walkie-talkie goes off.
Someone’s voice comes through, muttering, “Twenty minutes.”
The Ivory’s face shifts. In a blink, he’s back, volatility replaced by the impish grin from before he started talking about me.
And he croons, “Let the chaos commence.”
I leave the mansion and go to the woods just beyond the ferry dock, to catch a glimpse of who’s arriving…
A hoard of cartel men stomp off the large boat, already in uniform. They look like a SWAT team, loaded up with handguns, billyclubs, cuffs and shackles on their holsters. Their uniforms look like the ones Velle and his team wear, only black, rather than dark blue and heather gray, with a patch on their lapels. A crest I recognizeverywell.
The bird wrapped in barbed wire.
My mind flicks to my father’s butterfly knife. It’s on this island somewhere…He has it.
That is what I’ll use to kill him.
I’m able to hang out in the staff house for a while, showering then eating. After a few hours, I return to the mansion, waiting in the secret passageway, slinking between his library and study. I find him seated in his big leather chair, sipping scotch, as he does. Alone,waiting.
Anticipating that one of hisinsubordinatecaptors will show up and try to kill him, because it’s what he expects. He knows it’s coming.
“You know I’ve been waiting for you too, pajarito…”
My muscles are tightly controlled, though I’m buzzing withexpectationsof my own.
I’m sure he has that knife on him…
