But my part in it has come to an end. And the sense of relief in that is palpable.
Taking Angel by the waist, I pull him into me, holding him close and kissing the silken strands of his hair. He peers up at me, smiling.
“It’s you and me now, pajarito.” I pluck his chin between my fingers. “I hope you’re ready…”
He beams. “I was born ready, Diablo.”
The group is chattering, laughing and marveling at King Jonathan, the victor, and his spoils. It would be a perfect time to slip away with my little bird, to discuss what’s next and deal with cartel business.
Oh, and hump each other lifeless. Of course, that’ll be what I’m driving toward.
Angel and I stride to the door, hand in hand, but Jonathan’s voice stops me.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hang on there,Ivory.”
I spin to give him an innocent look.No, I wasn’t just trying to sneak off and get laid.
“You can’t just slink away in the middle of the night,” he grunts. “We have logistics to discuss…”
My brow arches. “Logistics?”
“Well, for one, you’ve been paying us all these years.” He crosses his arms. “We’ve grown accustomed to a certain standard of living.”
“Oh, Jonathan… You really are my protégé, aren’t you?” I chuckle, shaking my head. “Yes, I will keep paying for everything. Whatever you need. The bank of Ivory is officially open.” I gesture to the rest of them. “Anyone else need anything while we’re at it? Dascha, a new street bike? Warren? Some new jockstraps, or something… Name your price.”
At first, I’m sure they think I’m joking. But when I continue to stare expectantly, they share collective looks with their partners.
“We already have rich friends who have been throwing money at us,” Luthor huffs.
“Shhh!” Ren scolds. “You can never have too many rich people offering to buy you stuff. I want a boat.”
“You can have the yacht.” I shrug.
We won’t be needing it where we’re going.
“Hell no, he can’t,” Jonathan snaps. “The yacht stays here.”
“I want myownboat,” Ren says. “In California, where we currently live.”
They made it toCaliforniaon a tender?!
Wait, no. That doesn’t make any sense.
Luthor pulls a queasy face. “Babe, I don’t know about boats… I already wasn’t crazy about them before we almost died on one.”
“I will say that lesson one is don’t get on one during a storm without lifejackets or oars,” I sneer.
Ren squints at me. “Fine, no boat. I’ll take a Lambo. Lime green, with suicide doors.”
I shake my head. “Tell you what, when you get your driver’s license, I’ll buy you a car.”
He beams. “Thanks, Mask Daddy.”
I gesture a salutation while Luthor frowns, and the others appear confused and disturbed.
“I’m wondering if there’s anyone on this island youhaven’tfooled around with,” Velle admonishes the firestarter.
A few of them raise their hands. But it isn’t many at all.
