“I told you that yesterday.”
Dante’s sluggish brain worked hard to catch up. A slow laugh fought its way free. “You jumped me in the street for that petty shit? Man, you’re a drama queen. You could’ve just fucking asked me again.”
“Because you were so accommodating the first time?”
Dante opened his mouth to tell Asa that he was wrong—that given the chance, he’d already made the decision to pay forward the chance Asa had given Luis, but the nausea from the smack lacing his blood caught up with him. He lurched sideways and puked, his stomach convulsing in painful waves long after it was empty.
When it was over, he slumped against the wall again.
Asa laughed. “Glad I brought you to your own storage unit and not mine.”
“My what?” Dante forced his eyes open, blinking. “Where are we?”
“Home,” Asa said. “Remember those units we got Hasbo’s cousin to sign for back in the day?”
Dante’s brain worked slowly. The name meant nothing to him. Somehow over the last few years, he’d forgotten every face that wasn’t Luis’s. Even Asa seemed like a stranger, and they’d been on the road together for mad-long years. “We used to keep cash here,” he murmured. “Piles of it, like someBreaking Badshit.”
Asa snorted. “You did. I laundered mine.”
“What did Martell do with his? I always wondered, unless he really did spend it all on trainers and T-shirts.”
“Better than hookers and weed, bro. But actually, I have no idea. All I know is he doesn’t have it now and he don’t give a shit, and I fucking want that for myself.”
The mood, whatever it was, shifted. Reality returned to Dante, and he noticed for the first time the gaffer tape by his feet. “You were going to tape me up,” he guessed. “What changed your mind?”
Asa kicked the tape away, sending it disappearing into the shadows. “I’m not a monster.”
“Yes, you are.”
“What does that make you?”
“Awashed-upmonster with nothing to fight for.”
“That’s not true.”
“Isn’t it?”
Asa got low. If Dante had been a better fighter with his fists, if he’d been Luis or Martell, he might’ve chanced a flying kick to Asa’s face and brawled his way out, but Asa Gerrard was massive. Immovable. Dante could only stare.
“Maybe you’re right,” Asa said. “I was messing with you when I brought up the hot bloke with the limp, then I saw your face, and you know what? It scared me. I know you, Pope, and in that moment you wanted to hurt me, and that shit is more dangerous than anything I’ve ever faced on the street.”
Dante rolled his eyes. “You don’t know me.”
“Why? Because you’ve changed?”
“People don’t change,” Dante growled distantly, drifting to the many times he’d had similar conversations with Sid. He’d always come away feeling like he’d lost the argument without knowing why. Sid was clever like that.
“You’re wrong,” Asa said. “I didn’t know until Martell broke, but it’s true. You should see him, man. Taking his kid sister fucking bowling with his hench boyfriend, all loved up and shit. Warms your heart.”
“If you had one, you’d know he’s always been like that. Daddy issues put him on the road, nothing else. He was a cold motherfucker because he was too scared to be human.”
Asa snorted again. “What was your excuse?”
“I don’t have one. And I’m tired of talking in circles with you. We’re not mates, Gerrard, and I sure as fuck ain’t your agony aunt. If you’re not going to whack me, tell me what you want so we can get it over with.”
Asa sat back on the metal case he was perched on. Dante assumed it was empty, and he didn’t care. Street money meant nothing to him. He didn’t want it. It could rot. It could burn.I don’t care. Finally, those words made sense. “I need your help,” Asa said. “I told you yesterday, I need an escort to the Albanian meet.”
Dante thought back to the previous day. Asa’s appearance had felt like the beginning of a predictable apocalypse. Then Sid had taken him to bed and the world had turned upside down. Or perhaps the right way up. Who the fuck knew? All Dante knew for certain was that he’d had sex with a soul he truly loved, and now everything was different.Hewas different. “I want to go home. If I help you, will you let me?”