42. Arsen
42
ARSEN
THE PREVIOUS NIGHT
I shove Jasper into the street, steering clear of all the latecomers stumbling their way into the restaurant. “What is so important that you had to talk to me about it now?”
Jasper scowls, but he won’t look at me. “You didn’t tell me we were coming here for the Italians.”
“I’m the pakhan, Jasper. I don’t need to tell you anything. I tell you to be somewhere; you show up. End of story.”
“Listen, Arsen—” He takes a step forward, but he’s wobbly and unbalanced. He almost trips over his own feet.
“Are you high?” I spit.
“I can’t believe you’re asking me that. I’ve been sober for months!”
I don’t miss the way he doesn’t actually answer the question. Or the way his hands twitch at his sides. The scars on his arms. The sallow tint of his skin.
“Jesus,” I mutter. “I can’t believe I trusted you.”
“I’m fuckin’ sober, man!” Several passersby hurry past us with sidelong glances. Grimacing, I drag Jasper further down the street, but he keeps blubbering. “I told you I’d stay clean, and I’ve kept my promise. This isn’t about that.”
“Then what is it about?”
He jabs a finger at where Nonna Guilia’s is written in swooping, cursive letters above the door. “This is about the fuckin’ Italian scum you’re palling around with. You can’t trust ‘em, Arsen.”
Dominik saunters out of the restaurant, hands in his pockets. But he’s tense. I know he’s watching us closely, ready to intervene if called upon.
“I don’t trust anyone. But alliances are necessary.”
“Not with them.” He jerks his chin in the direction of the restaurant. “The Italians aren’t good people.” His eyes are bloodshot, still darting up and down the street like he’s expecting an ambush.
I step closer, forcing him to focus on me. “I got news for you, my friend: we’re not good people, either.”
“That’s different. That’s—” He shakes his head. His lip is raw from gnawing on it. “You’re in bed with the wrong sorts of folks. This won’t end well.”
I nod, retreating away from him. “I’m beginning to see that.”
All at once, Jasper lunges at me. He grabs my shoulders, almost taking us both to the cement. “Brother, you have to trust me. Trust me like you used to. Remember when we were a team?”
Hardly. It feels like a lifetime ago.
I grab his wrists and peel his hands off of me. As they drop to his sides, I realize I’ve been clinging to the person Jasper used to be. To the friend I needed a whole lifetime ago.
This Jasper, with his nervous twitching and scarred skin, isn’t the only one who has changed. I’m not the man I used to be, and I don’t need him the way I once did.
“I remember.” I wave for him to follow me. “Come on. Let’s talk about it.”
“Where are we going?”
“We’re going for a drive.”
“A drive?” He glances over his shoulder. “Where? Why?”
“We can’t discuss the Italians here. There are eyes and ears everywhere.”
Jasper’s expression clears. There’s hope in his face. “Yeah… Yeah, you’re right.”
“Dom.” As soon as I call for my second, Jasper stiffens. I ignore it. “Bring the car around.”
The moment Dominik disappears to fetch the vehicle, Jasper takes another step towards me. His tongue flickers in the corner of his mouth like a snake as he whispers in my ear, “I know you trust Dominik, but I think he’s working for the Italians. I think he’s working for the other side.”
I clasp Jasper’s shoulder. “He’s not coming with us, Jas. He’s just bringing the car around.”
Jasper nods, but he’s a ball of nervous energy. I’m not sure if it’s paranoia or some side effect of whatever he’s using these days. But when Dom tosses me the keys to the Jaguar, Jasper gives him a wide berth as he slides into the passenger seat.
“Follow behind us,” I whisper over the hood of the car. “Be subtle.”
Dominik makes a show of disappearing back into the restaurant, but a few minutes later, I see headlights pop up in the rearview.
Jasper, whose eyes only slip from the mirror long enough for him to look over his shoulder, notices, too. “We’re being followed.”
I shake my head, speaking evenly. “No one’s following us.”
For a few more minutes, I need him to stay calm. Just until we can get outside the city.
“I recognize the car,” he insists. “That’s Dominik behind us.”
“He went back inside the restaurant. You saw him.”
Maybe I should’ve gone for a drugged shot. Jasper claims to be sober, but we both know he wouldn’t have been able to refuse a toast.
The trouble is whether the chemical cocktail in his veins would have handled it.
“That’s Dominik,” Jasper repeats again, twisting around in his seat. “He’s following?—”
Suddenly, he stiffens. The nervous energy that has been buzzing off of him all night dissipates. It’s like a switch has flipped, and he’s wholly focused on me. “You don’t really believe me about any of this, do you?” he demands.
The clarity in his eyes is why I can’t bring myself to lie to him. “I think it’s time to call this, Jas. You had a good run, but it’s over now.”
“No…”
“I can’t trust you anymore,” I say as gently as I’m capable of. “You’re not cut out for this life.”
“I am,” he insists. “I’ve done it before?—!”
“And you barely survived the first time. The only reason you did is because I intervened. I owed you a debt, but—” My gaze slices towards him for a brief second. “—that debt is now paid.”
He pales. “Arsen… Brother…”
“I can’t risk what I’ve built on you. You’re not a safe bet. It’s only a matter of time before you piss off the wrong person or make the wrong move?—”
“I can follow your orders. I can get in line!”
“I have a family now, Jas,” I continue. “I have to think of them first.”
He slams his body back into the seat with a huff, scanning the road in front of us. “Where are you taking me?”
“Out of the city. From there, Dominik and I will find a place for you to go.”
I’m sure Dom already has ideas. He’s had this contingency written up from the first day Jasper reappeared on my doorstep.
Jasper blows out a shaky breath. “You’re going to kill me.”
If he was anyone else, I might.
“I’m not going to kill you. But you can’t stay in the city, Jasper. You’ve been inside the Bratva. You know too much. You have to go.”
Desperation rolls off Jasper in waves. “You can’t do this to me. I have nowhere else to go. No one I can trust.”
“You can start over. It’ll be good for you to get away from all the things that pulled you into this life in the first place.”
Maybe a better friend would’ve sent him packing years ago. But I thought I could help him. I thought he could survive the way I have.
His hands are shaking in his lap. His entire body is trembling. “That’s not what I want.”
Suddenly, he lunges for the wheel.
I yell for him to stop, but he’s screaming over me. “Pull over here. You have to listen to me!”
He’s jerking on the wheel, and we’re swerving all over the road. Dominik is just behind us now, his lights blinding me in the side mirror, but there’s fuck-all he can do.
With one hand commanding the vehicle, I pull out my gun and aim it at Jasper’s temple. “Let go of the wheel or I’ll pull the fucking trigger.”
He recoils back like I already shot him, cowering against the door. I barely recognize the man anymore.
“You’d actually kill me?” he asks in a tiny voice.
“I don’t want to. I’d wish it hadn’t happened every day for the rest of my life.” I don’t lower the weapon. “But to save my own life? To make sure I get home to my family? Absolutely. I’ll kill you if that’s what it takes.”
The breath leaves his body in a sharp burst, his arms going limp at his sides. It’s reassuring enough for me to lower the gun to my lap.
The street lights whizz past as we pick up speed, closing in on the city limit. Dominik was right behind us, but he’s falling behind.
I tap the brakes to give him time to catch up—but nothing changes. In fact, the needle on the speedometer inches higher.
What the fuck?
I try again with a little more pressure.
Still nothing.
My gaze veers to Jasper. He’s pressed against the door, white-knuckling the edge of his seat. Sweat is beading across his forehead.
“What the fuck have you done, Jas?”
He keeps his eyes fixed on the road ahead. “Slow down. The road’s wet ahead.”
He’s not wrong. A slick sheen of water coats the road ahead of us from a storm that’s just passed.
“ Blyat’ !” I hiss, stomping on the brakes hard again and again and a-fucking-gain.
But there’s no point.
The brake lines have been cut.
“We’re going to crash.” For the first time all night, Jasper sounds calm as the car hydroplanes out of my control.
“Mother fucker —”
My gun is sliding off my lap, and I reach for it. The cool metal just barely meets my fingertips before I hear the sound of a gunshot.
There’s a roar of terror, and then the crunch of metal as we spin into a tree.
After that, there is only darkness.