Page 197 of Shadowman
Apparently, there’s a lot more to the discord between Team Velle and Team Ivory. History, manipulation, bad blood…
I swear to God, being on this island is like being in The Godfather.
A loud, guttural roar startles me, and I look at the door. Yari flinches when something crashes, things banging and smashing in there.
“Can I go…?” I whisper to Kent, who shakes his head.
A moment later, Manuel Blanco emerges from the loo, straightening his collar and smoothing back his hair. He strides calmly to his desk, taking a seat.
We’re all just gaping at him, waiting for some indication of what he wants us to do as he picks up his phone, fingers working quickly on the screen. The only sounds to be heard are the clicks of his typing.
Many tense moments later, he finally speaks. “I want Officer Chevelle and his team removed from the mansion.” His gaze lifts to Kent. “They’re being evicted. Effective immediately.”
Clearing my head feels necessary.
After that bizarre, highly tense visit with The Ivory, I decided to take a walk, since it’s the only thing I can do, shy of returning to my cell and burdening Byron with this rubbish.
Still, it’s hard to feel grateful foranythingwhen every inch of leeway seems like another foot of rope forming the noose currently around my neck.
I’ve become quite familiar with the maze of these hallways over the last few weeks, exploring the ins and outs, the corridors that connect from one area to another. I’ve learned how to avoid being seen by the occasional guard, doctor, or orderly. And I’ve perfected my spying.Although, is it really spying when someone is always watching you…?
Glancing up at the camera on the ceiling, I wonder who’s on the other side. Which of The Ivory’s men are following my every move… What they must think. What he’stoldthem…
Stopping at the sound of yelling, I peer around a corner. There’s a man in a white lab coat—I’d assume he’s a doctor, butthen who would know—exiting one of the exam rooms, rather quickly. Fleeing from the aggrieved bellows of whoever is in there.
When I’m sure the coast is clear, I slink over to peer inside the room. There’s a form slumped over in an exam chair, looking exhausted and utterly tormented—burn marks all over his exposed skin, dark hair hanging in his face. His head slants, and I gulp.
It’s Ren.
Not only are they holding him down here… They’re experimenting on him.
I’m not surprised, but still. Seeing the state he’s in gives me a strange pang in the gut.I’m familiar with such agony.
My mind flashes back to that day in the rec room…
“Don’t try to pretend you care about anyone else…” Byron seethed at Luthor and Ren, his resentment masking obvious pain. “Especially not me. Because we all know it’s a fucking lie.”
The Ivory made it sound like the things that happen within these walls are all very intentional, and I’m not surprised by that either. We’re all pawns in his game, from his spy, all the way down to the lying arsonist, who is apparently enough of a threat that he needs to be strapped to a chair and tortured.
Byron deserves to know about all of this. I should tell him the things I’ve heard, what I’ve witnessed…
But The Ivory was right. We’re all one another has left. If I were to tell him, then it goes back to being all aboutthem. But what aboutme?
I know Byron doesn’t really need me… But I need him.
As long as we have each other, we don’t need anyone else.
“Keep your secrets, Trevel… Don’t rely on anyone to fix you…”
Ren lifts his face, but I’m gone before he can see me.
I’m rushing down a different corridor when I’m stopped by a voice.
“Is he okay?”
I peer around, because I can’t tell where it’s coming from. It’s muffled, as if someone is speaking to me from inside one of the cells, but I don’t know which one.
“Does it matter?” I respond, checking each window. “No one isokayin here…”
