“Yes.” Asa’s steady gaze bored into Dante, glinting in the murky light of the storage unit. “We want the same thing, Dante. I just can’t let you have yours until I have mine.”
Dante. Fuck. How did his own name sound bizarre falling from Asa’s lips? Dante shivered, nausea returning to him thick and fast. He swallowed hard, fighting acid as it pooled in his throat.
Asa took pity on him and handed him a bottle of water. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry about the skag hit. I just figured it was better than knocking you out for real.”
“You did knock me out.”
Asa made a dismissive sound. “Only a little bit. Remember when Martell taught us how to floor someone without actually hurting them? That’s all I did.”
“I must’ve missed that day at charm school,” Dante said dryly.
“You didn’t put him up to it?”
“To teaching you how to hurt me without killing me? No, mate. That was all him.”
Asa said nothing. Dante watched him a moment, observing the cogs turning in a brain that was wasted on road life. Like Martell. Luis. Even Dante.Was that all it was? A fucking waste?
Dante brought a hand to his chest, willing the sickness rising in him to fade, but it didn’t. It boiled over, and he threw up hard, like he was purging his entire fucking soul.
“Sorry,” Asa said when he was done. “Maybe I gave you a little too much.”
Spinning, Dante tried for a scowl, but it didn’t come.I don’t care. “Whatever, man. How long are we staying here before we meet the Albanians?”
Asa stood, his large frame blocking the sliver of light from the door he’d left ajar. He fiddled with something Dante couldn’t see, his face cast in shadow. “I’m waiting on a call. I’ll come for you when it’s time.”
He moved towards the door. Panic belatedly surged in Dante’s heart. “You’re leaving me here?”
Asa snorted. “What else do you expect me to do with you? You ain’t supposed to be in London, and the last thing I need is you getting nicked before this goes down. Sit tight, Pope. I’ll be back.”
He left, shutting the door behind him with a quiet click that was somehow fucking deafening. Darkness cloaked the cold storage unit. Dante shivered and tried to figure out what time it was and how long he’d been out. Considering he’d missed the four-hour drive from Manchester to London, it didn’t look good.Fuck. He rubbed his aching head, finding the bruise Asa had left with his expertly placed fist.Fucking Martell. I should’ve buried him when I had the chance.A humourless laugh escaped Dante.Right, cos that would’ve changed everything, wouldn’t it?
Not even close.
Dante leaned against the wall again and closed his eyes, spinning with nausea and a soul-deep fatigue that made him want to die. His heart yearned for Sid, but Dante fought tooth and nail to push him away. He’d let Sid down, and if he thought of him, he’d break.
He’s waiting for me.
I’m not there.
A broken sound escaped Dante. He brought his knees to his chest and buried his face in them. He hadn’t cried since his father had died. Sometimes he thought he’d forgotten how, that something inside him had died that day too and he’d never get it back. But he cried now, shaking with silent sobs, tears burning his face and soaking into Sid’s sunflower T-shirt.I love him.
But there was every chance Sid would never know.
22
Morning came too fast for Sid. He woke on the couch with a stiff neck and a breeze block in his heart. Dante still wasn’t home.
Sid checked his bungalow anyway, stealing the spare key from Benjamin’s office and letting himself in.
Dante’s space was spotlessly tidy, mainly because he had no belongings to leave lying about, and what he did have was scattered around Sid’s home.It doesn’t feel like home when he’s not there.
Rubbing the ache in his chest, Sid leaned in Dante’s bedroom doorway, taking in the unused bed and single T-shirt folded on the chest of drawers. His hands itched to tuck it into a drawer, as if it would be enough to convince himself that Dante was coming back, but rising dread kept him frozen in place, stomach churning, heart pounding in his ears.No. He wouldn’t fuck you, then run out on you. Whatever’s happened, he’d never do that.
But the louder Sid’s heart argued with the devil on his shoulder, the louder the devil grew.He’s told you a thousand times he’s a manipulative piece of shit. Why didn’t you listen?
Growling, Sid pushed off the doorframe and stomped out of Dante’s empty bungalow, locking it after him and tucking the key in his pocket. He crossed the yard, ignoring the scent of breakfast as it wafted out of the barn. He needed to eat, and he didn’t have time for the kind of crisis he’d create by skipping meals, but peopling could fucking do one.
He went home, grabbed a banana and a meal shake, then jabbed himself with the Copaxone injection he’d forgotten the night before. Sometimes the palpitations took all day to kick in, others, anxious anticipation gave them a head start and they began before he’d even set the syringe down. It was a rare day when they were absent altogether, but today he felt nothing except the cold dread he’d woken up with, and the irony made him want to scream.