Benito did, all too well. If there was anyone who could manipulate their way out of prison early, it was Dante Pope. He sank down heavily on a nearby bench, stretching his tired legs out in front of him. “Why are you telling me this? You think he wants to start beef with me?”
Luis sighed. “Honestly? I don’t know. He writes me letters sometimes, but I burn them, so I have no clue where his head’s at.”
“So you tapped Asa for this number... just to warn me?”
“Does that surprise you?”
Benito tracked Mickey and Gianna as they moved to the front of the queue at the bar. Gianna had stuck four paper-wrapped straws in Mickey’s back pocket. He was pretending not to notice, all the while sprinkling sugar in her hair. “I don’t know. I’m still getting used to being around good people.”
“You’re doing okay then?”
“What do you care?”
“I don’t. Paolo does, though. If you’re still a massive cunt, he’ll say I stepped backwards for no good reason.”
“Maybe you did.”
“Nah. You’re too clever for that shit. And you play the long game. If you want it enough, you’ll get there.”
“I already did. I’m happy, man. Life is good. I could do without your brother rocking up to fight me.”
Luis was silent a moment. Benito wondered if he’d gone. Then rustling crackled the line, and Luis spoke again. “I saw him once, a couple of years ago. He sent me a visiting order and I let it reel me in. Even if he hadn’t changed, I thought it might give me closure, you know? That it would remind me how fucking evil he was, and I could walk away for good and never think about him again.”
Mickey handed Gianna a milkshake the size of her head, then he turned and found Benito watching from the bench. A grin warmed his handsome face, but it was guarded, as if he knew Benito had one foot in the past.
Benito forced his attention back to Luis Pope. “What happened?”
“He was different. Not so much that I can tell you he won’t come after you when he gets out, but enough that I think he might listen if someone asked him not to.”
“And that someone can’t be you, right?”
Luis snorted. “What do you think?”
Benito had no idea what he thought. He’d always known this day would come—that Dante Pope would get out eventually—but he’d never imagined he’d be having a deep and meaningful about it with his brother. “I think you’re a dude for giving me the heads-up, and I can’t ask you to do more than that. I gotta ask why, though. The fuck do you care if your brother puts me in the ground?”
“Not caring is the worst thing in the world. If you didn’t already know that, you’d still be on the road.”
Luis hung up without saying goodbye. Benito stared at the blank screen he left behind, then slowly pocketed his phone.
He looked up to find Mickey and Gianna in front of him. Gianna was engrossed in her milkshake.
Mickey’s expression was blank—too blank for Benito’s soul to cope with.
He stood, inserting himself into Mickey’s bubble without giving a single shit who saw them. “Luis Pope just called me. His brother is getting out.”
Mickey frowned, clearly tracking back to every conversation they’d ever had to put names to Benito’s tales from the road. “The one you stitched up?”
Benito’s gaze flickered to Gianna, but she’d wandered off to take pictures of a duck. “That’s the one. I’m thinking he probably wants me dead.”
“Is that what his brother said?”
“He said he didn’t know.”
“How would you find out?”
“By asking, I guess.”
Mickey’s frown deepened. “Won’t that put you on his radar? He might have moved on.”