38. Arsen
38
ARSEN
My phone rings for the third time in as many minutes. I don’t even check to see who it is before I answer. “What is it now, Matvei?”
“Boss, he rolled up his shirt sleeve to show me his tattoos.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. “I don’t care if he dropped trou and showed me your name on his ass, man. I’m not taking a meeting with someone off the street. Get a name or tell him to get lost.”
There will be no name because whoever is at the gate either has an ax to grind or a favor to ask, and their only hope of either is catching me off-guard.
I was up half the night organizing the nursery, so I’m too many coffees to count deep and not in the mood for a fight or to get pumped for favors.
I’m about to hang up the phone yet again when Matvei speaks up. “I don’t have a name… but boss, he has the same tattoo as you. The viper.”
Fuck.
I close my eyes, reaching blindly for the last dregs of caffeine in the cup in front of me. I’m going to need it. “I’ll be there in five.”
Even as the gate slides open and the man strides onto my property, I know this isn’t possible. There’s only one other person I know who has a viper tattoo like mine on his right bicep.
And he’s supposed to be dead.
The sun glints off the metal gates. I shield my eyes with my hand, trying to get a good look at the ghost walking towards me.
“Well, well,” the man rasps when he sees me coming, throwing his arms wide. “Life on the outside has certainly done you good.”
He stops in a patch of shade, and I can finally lower my hand to take him in.
His beard is long and matted. There are wrinkles around his eyes and mouth I don’t recognize, and his lanky hair hangs down to the shoulders of his shabby, checkered shirt.
But his bright blue eyes—those haven’t changed. They cut straight through my chest.
“Wish I could say the same about you. Although, considering you’re supposed to be dead, you look pretty damn good.”
Jasper smiles and ten years drain from his face. He looks more and more like the man I remember every second. “You believed the rumors, too?”
“I had no reason not to.”
Jasper takes a long, pointed look at the mansion behind me. “Looks like you had the resources to verify them if you wanted.”
“True. Maybe it was just easier to believe you were dead.”
He smiles sadly. “That’s what I always appreciated about you, Arsen. You never lied to me.”
“And you never listened,” I say. “So, what are you doing here, Jasper?”
He presses his shoulders back, and I catch another glimpse of the man I knew. “You helped me out a lot after we got out. I know it may not seem like it now, but I really was grateful.”
“You have a weird way of showing gratitude. I told you to stop running with that crowd. I told you it would end in trouble.”
He shrugs. “Old habits die hard.”
“Yeah, they do. And you have a habit of being reckless and unpredictable. So I ask again: what are you doing here?”
“You want unpredictable? Listen to this: You were right .” He smirks. “I bet you never thought you’d hear that, did you?”
I exhale sharply. So that’s why he’s here. “I stopped betting on you a long time ago, Jas.”
“You were the only friend I ever made in this world, man.” He kicks a worn shoe against the pavement. “You had my back from the very beginning. We looked out for one another. We were more than just cellmates; we were brothers.”
“I have many brothers now, Jasper. You know that already.”
“I know.” He clears his throat, gaze dropping once more. “And you know why I’m here.”
“I’d like to hear you say it all the same.”
Part of me asks just because I don’t think he’ll do it. His pride will get the best of him, and he’ll walk away. I won’t have to make this choice.
His eyes flash to mine, and I see a kernel of that old pride. But it’s gone just as quickly. “I want a place by your side. In your Bratva.”
“We tried that once before. It didn’t end well.”
“I was younger then. Stubborn. Proud,” he recites as though he’s been preparing for this moment for some time. “But I’ve changed. I’m ready to follow orders now.”
“I thought old habits die hard?”
He nods. “Mine didn’t go down without a fight, but I murdered every last one of ‘em.”
I run a hand through my hair, considering it for a split second. “Alright.”
“Are you serious? I’m in?”
“It’s not that simple,” I caution. “No one just ‘gets in.’ You’ll earn your stripes, same as any other man.”
He squares his shoulders. “I’m prepared to do whatever it takes.”
“Then leave your information with Matvei.” I gesture towards my soldier, who’s standing by the gate with a suspicious glare aimed in Jasper’s direction. “I’ll contact you soon.”
His hands clench, but instead of snapping back at the perceived slight, Jasper bows his head obediently. “I won’t let you down this time, Arsen.”
“Jasper?” Dominik barks, pointing to the viper tattoo on my bicep. “ That Jasper?!”
“Yes.”
“He’s dead.”
“A rumor,” I explain. “One that he helped along to get out from underneath the trouble he was in with the Italians.”
Gedeon coughs, spraying a fine mist of whiskey into the air. “The Italians we just overnighted dead bodies to? Those Italians?”
It’s almost midnight and it’s the first time I’ve sat down all day. My feet are screaming at me. Answering my lieutenants’ inquisition is the last thing I feel like doing.
“All he wants is protection,” Dominik accuses. “He’s trying to save his own skin.”
Considering every decision Jasper has ever made has been to save his own skin, Dom is probably right.
But that doesn’t mean he can’t make himself useful, too.
“I think he’s looking for a place to put down some roots. He’s looking for purpose.”
Dominik massages his temples. He looks as tired as I feel. “Arsen, you tried to give Jasper a place in this Bratva, and he questioned you at every turn. He went rogue on missions and put your men at risk.”
“I was there, Dom. I remember what happened.”
“Then why let him back in?”
“Because he asked.” Dominik opens his mouth to respond, but I cut him off. “He saved my life. More than once. He saved my life before I’d earned my reputation. I had a target on my back thanks to the evil motherfucker I called a grandfather. Jasper didn’t gain anything from backing me up, but he did it anyway.”
“I get?—”
“No, you don’t. By the time you entered the scene, Jasper and I had already earned respect the hard way. You didn’t see the worst of it.” I press my hand to the scar in the center of my chest. “But Jasper did.”
Dominik sighs. “None of that changes the fact that he isn’t made to follow.”
Yesterday—a week ago; hell, an hour ago—I would’ve said the same thing. But Jasper looked me in my eyes and told me things are different.
I want to believe him.
“The argument is irrelevant, anyway, because he hasn’t even earned his place here yet. Once he does, then we can have this discussion.” I put aside my empty glass of whiskey and get to my feet.
“He may claim to be different, but things are different for you, too,” Dominik adds before I can leave. “You have more people to think about now.”
Dom isn’t wrong. There was a time when Jasper was the only family that meant anything to me.
Now, there’s Laila. Our baby.
“If he puts my family in danger for even a second, he’s done. I’ll kill him myself.” I look back over my shoulder. “That goes for anyone.”
Dominik sighs with relief. “Okay, then. Have it your way. But I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”