The cinderblock in his belly solidified. Still smouldering with smoky tendrils.
Rage. Grief. Revenge.
It kept him standing, but so did what remained of his pride.
Your ego, you mean. Ain’t nothing to be proud of here.
Whatever. The present returned to him with a cold snap. Barndale. Bletchley. The coppers still up in his face. Anger rippled through him.Fuckletting these clowns put him down right now. He let his fists curl and snatched a breath. “Go fuck your—”
“What are you doing to my brother?”
Benito froze, the snarled insult dying on his lips. He knew that voice. It was the one that made his heart clench as if it might break. Theonlyone that made him feel things that hurt. Somehow, Benito had missed the bus rolling in.Some watchman you are.
Wasteman, more like.
The officer crowding Benito stepped back, putting enough space between them for a slight, willowy figure to slip into the void. The girl wrapped her arms around Benito’s waist, pressing her bony shoulder into his ribs as she turned her head to glare at the police. “Leave him alone.”
“Gianna.” Benito held her close, shielding her from view as much as he could. “It’s fine. They were just asking about my car.”
“Why?”
“Because they like it.”
Gianna wriggled in his grip and turned her fiery brown eyes on him, glowering, the way only she could. “No, they don’t. They think you’re too poor to drive it.”
“Well, they’re not wrong right now. I signed the lease agreement before I lost my job in London. You know that.”
Gianna’s scowl deepened. “It’s a Qashqai, not an Escalade. They’re picking on you because no one around here is supposed to be happy.”
Pain lanced Benito’s chest again, throbbing the raised flesh that ran the length of his ribs. Gianna was twelve—a decade too young to be so astutelyunhappy. “It’s not like that, G. We were just talking, honest.”
The quieter policeman had seen enough. He spoke into his radio and signalled to Benito’s brand new nemesis that it was time to go.
They got back in their car and drove away. Relief flooded Benito, and his body craved the sensation of sagging against the car door, but not with Gianna in his arms.Neverwith Gianna in his arms.
He grasped her shoulders and spun her to face him. “You shouldn’t speak to the feds like that. One day you might need their help.”
“Youmight need their help too, Beni. But they’re too busy harassing people for no reason to care.”
“It’s not for no reason. I’ve got flash threads and a flash car. If I was a copper, I’d be all over that shit too.”
“You couldn’t be a fed.”
“Why not?”
“You hate being told what to do. The only way you could do it was if you were chief-superintendent whatsit or whatever they call it.”
Benito grinned. “Chief Whatsit? I’ll take that.”
“You know what I mean.”
“I really don’t. But it doesn’t matter. I have no intention of becoming a fed or bailing you out when you’ve pissed them off enough to arrest you, so stop with the fighting talk, okay? It doesn’t change anything.”
Gianna’s glare remained. “It’s not okay for them to stop and search you for no reason. They told us that at school.”
“It wasn’t for no reason. They just wanted to know why I was hanging outside Nuggets for bare time when you should’ve been home twenty minutes ago. Where’ve you been? Was the bus late?”
“Um...” Gianna’s gaze flitted away, suddenly fixed on the matte black paintwork of the car that had brought Benito nothing but trouble. “I walked.”