And now he’s saying,Stand down. That’s it.
“This is bullshit!” One of The Ivory’s men hisses, stomping over. “So that’s it?? We’re all just gonna lie down after weeks of fighting for this place??” He glares at The Ivory. “You’re just giving it up to this prick?”
My lips twitch and I gesture to myself.Who, me?
The Ivory lets out an exasperated breath, stepping forward. “Qué pasa, Dominguez? Honestly, why do you care? You don’t live here. This island means nothing to you.”
His tone is calm, annoyed, but overall casual. Until, in a blink, he shifts. Eyes darkening, underlying vicious dominance shining through the obsidian.
I recognize that look all too well, stepping back a bit.
Leaning in closer to the man’s face, he growls, “Are you suggesting we measure dicks right now? Because I assure you, no one wants to take a ruler to yourpolla pequeñita.” He sticks out his pinky, wiggling it. I snort.
The guy, Dominguez, is turning red. “I thought you wanted that asshole’s head on a pike!”
Ivory rolls his eyes to the heavens, peeking at me. “May I please have my pistol?”
My smirk goes sinister. “Abso-fuckin-lutely.”
I nod Peters over, who comes stomping up to us, handing The Ivory his chrome, pearl-handled Beretta. The thing is gorgeous.
“W-wait… no,” Dominguez backs up.
Ivory cocks his gun.
The guy turns and runs away. But The Ivory fires, hitting his foot.
Dominguez screams in pain, falling to the ground, clutching his bloody boot.
Ivory tucks the gun away with a sigh and calls to the guys who are moving our injured out of the armory. “Let them know we’ll have one more on the chopper.”
I chuckle, shaking my head.
“It’s as easy as keeping your fucking mouths shut,” he barks to the rest of them, all standing by, wide-eyed and nervous. “For the last time, because you know how much Iloatherepeating myself… ifanyof youhijos de putashave anything else to say, now’s the fucking time!”
His roar echoes, sending cartel men scattering like roaches, hustling to get their asses in gear while the rest of us cackle and whoop.
“Man, I love that line,” Byron sighs.
Angel looks visibly excited, kissing Ivory on the neck while he chuckles. I’m assuming they’re both bigKill Billfans, being that Angel quotedPart 1himself earlier.
“How long have you been waiting to use that one?” I ask, amusement dancing on my lips.
“Jesus, I’ve probably used it already at some point,” Ivory snickers. “Pretty sure my first meeting with the lieutenants after I took over played out similarly to that meeting with O-ren Ishii and the Crime Council.”
“That’s so awesome.” Angel wiggles, beaming.
“Just a big fat group of Tarantino Stans over here, huh?” I snicker.
“Hell yea,” Dash says on his way past, with Kemper attached to him like a shadow.
They’re heading for Dash’s dad, who’s been sort of lingering around impatiently this whole time. You can tell the guy isdesperateto get out of here because this isn’t his scene—from what I understand, he’s more of a money-mover for the Russians in Las Vegas. At the same time, he’s even more eager to speak to his son.
Regardless, I have my own shit to lock down right now. Like getting our wounded men the medical attention they need, narrowing down just how many casualties we have, and taking care of our dead.
Then figuring out what happens next…Big picture stuff.
There’s no crystal ball in the vicinity. I’m having trouble seeing into the future right now, but at the very least, I’d like to know what The Ivory expects to do next, what we’re doing with the mansion… Who’s staying and who’s going.If anyone’s coming for the goddamn Governor of New York who’s lying dead on the beach right now.
