19
Benito’s head swayed with the movement of the train. Forward and back. Up and down. With his eyes open, it made him feel sick. If he closed them and shut the world out, he wanted to die though, so motion sickness it was.
Besides, he had a hundred grand in his bag. Only a moron would take his eyes off it.
No, only a moron would’ve got on the train in the first place when they have a perfectly good car at home.
But if Benito had proven anything over the last few weeks, months,years, it was that he was indeed a fucking imbecile. How else could he explain his life up until this moment?
He leaned his head against the train window, focusing on the cool glass against his skin as grief lanced his chest. The slam of Mickey’s front door echoed in his head. His furious, agonised scream as Benito had unfrozen his feet from the doorstep and walked away.So much pain. And Benito wasn’t naive enough to believe Mickey’s distress had been all about him, even if it had been all his fault. Lies were one thing. Betrayal something else—something bigger—but the worst of Mickey’s anger had been directed at himself, and Benito could never forgive himself for that. For dragging Mickey back to a place where he believed he was anything less than the fuckingherohe was to Benito. That he’d done it within ten minutes of being inside him, slow-screwing them both to oblivion, all the while losing himself to the reality that he wasin lovewith this dude?
Yeah. It was too much.
Money be damned, Benito let his eyes fall closed, but as his luck seemed to be going lately, as he did, the train jolted to a stop at Bushey station. He jerked forward and smashed his face into the seat in front of him. The impact was glancing, but it hurt his already aching bones. He hadn’t slept much since Saturday. Hadn’t eaten. Instead he’d paced his flat and played chicken with his phone, counting the hours until his meet with Asa had come around and he could finish what he’d started.
Probably.
Maybe.
He still wasn’t sure what he was walking into, and he cared less than he had when he’d agreed to the meet.Kill me. I don’t give a fuck anymore.Gianna flashed into his mind, but he pushed her away. She was better off without him.
The train rumbled through the stops until Euston. Benito drifted through the ticket barriers and made himself walk past the sniffer dogs checking commuters for explosives.Arrest me. Take it. Take it all.
No one did. For once in his life, he was invisible.
Asa wanted to meet in central London, a world away from the grotty tower blocks Benito had briefly ruled over, but Benito was four hours early, and he got on the tube in the opposite direction.
Half an hour later, he found himself staring at a tatty sign from across the street—Toni’s Cafe—as tired and somehow welcoming as it had always been, the same condensation in the windows.
The same moody Italian grilling bacon and scowling at customers.
Benito almost smiled, but he didn’t have it in him, and despite the nostalgia, he didn’t go in.
Never had. Instead, he waited on a bench opposite the door, knowing it wouldn’t be long before he was seen.
“What the fuck are you doing here?”
Benito looked up. Paolo Cilberto stood in front of him, fire in his dark eyes, rage in his clenched fists. Benito tried not to smile. He’d always admired this about Paolo, the way he wore every emotion on his sleeve and didn’t give a single fuck who saw. He was brave beyond anything Benito could even dream of.
Like Mickey.
Like the man Paolo loved enough to abandon his work and charge across the road to fight to the death for.
“I need to see Luis,” Benito said.
Paolo’s glower burned hotter. “Fuck off.”
“Easy. It’s not business. It’s personal.”
“You don’t have anything personal with him. You’re a piece-of-shit road man and you promised you’d leave him alone. What’swrongwith you people?”
“Everything,” Benito quipped before he caught himself. “That’s why I need to see Luis. I need his advice.”
“I have some for you. Go die somewhere else.”
Benito pursed his lips. If Paolo hadn’t meant every syllable with enough venom to kill them both, it might’ve been funny. But it wasn’t funny. Not even close. Paolo had good reason to protect Luis, especially from Benito.
I deserve his hate.“I’m all right with dying just here, thanks,” Benito said. “I just need to see Luis before I expire. Please? I’ll be quick.”