“Well?” I snap, cocking my head. “You came to talk… Sotalk.”
His eyes shift briefly. “Angel… Is he—”
“He’s alive,” I cut him off. “Safe… For now. But that can change with a snap of my fingers, so you tell me,Ivory… What is this kid worth to you?”
I think I can see him fuckingshakingas he exhales raggedly. “Everything.”
My chest burns, and I straighten, stepping forward. “What was that?”
“Everything,” he repeats, louder and clearer. “He’s worth everything, Officer. Mi pajarito es todo, soplease… por favor, you can do whatever you want to me, but just don’t hurt him. I am begging you…”
“Excuse me?” I hiss. “You’rebeggingme? Is that really what you just said??”
“Y-yes, I’m—”
“Fucking stupid motherfucker,” I mutter under my breath with clenched teeth, turning to storm inside the armory.
Grabbing Angel by the arm, I drag him back out with me, pulling him skidding in the dirt, right up to The Ivory, the barrel of my rifle pressed into the kid’s chest.
The Ivory is immediately shuddering. “N-no… wait,please—”
“You’ve got to bekidding me!” I roar in his face. He flinches. “Everything you’ve done to me over the years… everything you’ve put me through! And you’rebegging?!” Whipping my gun off the kid, I aim it at The Ivory’s forehead, my tone going dangerously low, “I should blow a fucking hole through your fucking skull.”
Angel squeaks.
“Okay, yes.” The Ivory nods frantically. “Sure, that’s fair. I deserve that… But he doesn’t, okay? So just please… leave him out of it. He too has suffered enough at my hands.”
Gaze pinging between him and the kid, it narrows to bemused, skeptical slits. I aim the gun at Angel once more, and The Ivory fuckingwhimpers; a purely helpless noise to match the distress on his face.
“What is this…?” I rumble, peeking at the kid. “I knew there was more to that story you told us.”
“I only told you the beginning,” Angel whispers, jittery, but nowhere near as petrified by the prospect of himself or The Ivory being shot as his parents’ killer apparently is.
“I think I’m piecing together the middle.” My eyes find The Ivory once again, brow arching. “So I guess the question is… how’s it gonna end?”
He sighs, tiredly. “However you want. So long as he’s not hurt, I don’t care about anything else.”
“Oh, so nowyou’vegot an Achilles heel?” I scoff, getting in close. “Do you remember threateningmypartners? The loves of my goddamn life… Do you remember telling me that they would be dead??Their entire families… everyone they’ve ever met will die a slow, painful death…” I seethe his words from the day I returned, inches from his face. “That’s what you said to me,Jefe. Remember that??”
“Jonathan, I—”
“You assured me that if I crossed you, you would take everything from me,” I snarl. “So what’s stopping me from takingeverythingfromyou??After all… it’s only fair, isn’t it?Sangre por sangre…” I hiss back the words he’s said to me. “Blood forfucking blood.”
He shakes his head, over and over. “I didn’t—”
“You killed my mother!” I thunder, my voice damn-near shaking the ground beneath us. “Maybe not with your own hands, butyouareresponsiblefor her death!”
“No!” He cries. “No, that’snottrue. I didn’t do it, Jonathan, you have to believe me!”
“Stop lying!” I bellow, pointing the gun at his head. “You and I both know you did it!Youpassed down the orders to sell her shit with extra fentanyl, because you wanted me all to yourself! You wanted to hurt me, because it’s what you fucking do!Admit it!”
“No,” he quakes when I aim the gun back at Angel. “I didn’t! I won’t admit that, Jonathan, because I didn’t do it. I can prove it!”
“Yea, right,” I croak, shaking myself, with an infinitely potent wrath that’s covering up searing pain.
Pain I haven’t been able to fully deal with since my mother died. Because ofhim.
Because he won’t justadmitit, and every breath he takes,living, is another knife in my back from someone who, despite everything, I never thought would hurt methatdevastatingly.
