19. Bastien
19
BASTIEN
The shootout continued—and then the guys pulled out the rockets.
“This is about to go nuclear,” Luca said.
“Where is the Foreign Legion?” I barked.
“I don’t know,” Luca said. “Maybe Ivan has another force they have to get through to reach us.”
I was about to be blown into pieces, and Fleur…she was on her own.
I couldn’t fail her. I fucking couldn’t. “I promised her…”
All Luca could do was flash me a look of sympathy that barely lasted a second before he had to focus on reality again. “We get through this, then we go for her. We’ve got to head to the bunker.”
“If we head to the bunker, then we’ll be fish in a barrel,” I snapped. “I’m dying with a bullet to my face, not my back.”
“We’re all gonna die if we don’t do something?—”
Ivan’s amplified voice came from the speaker system of one of the Hummers, loud as a megaphone. “Butcher.”
The gunfire ceased on both sides.
“They say to look both ways before you cross the street,” he said. “And they say never get in cars with strangers. I guess your parents failed you.”
I felt my neck tighten and the cords stretch. Felt my face burn red from the rage I couldn’t express in any other way. I was hiding like a fucking rat, while my girl was who fucking knew where. I’d risen to the top, but now I came tumbling down to rock bottom—six feet under.
“All regimes fall, Butcher,” he said. “Now it’s your turn.”
I looked at the room full of men who remained loyal to me, and that loyalty was about to get them killed.
“Surrender—and I’ll let her go.”
I sucked in a hard breath and felt my hands tighten into fists. I’d walk out there, and he’d shoot me in the head for everyone to see, to know that he was the one who had executed the Butcher and usurped his regime. He’d probably piss on my body once he was done.
And I would be okay with that if he really let her go.
Luca looked at me. “You know he won’t do it, Bastien.”
I swallowed.
“She might not…” He didn’t finish the sentence, didn’t make me listen to it. “Don’t do it.”
Ivan spoke over the speakers again. “Come on, Butcher. My patience grows thin.”
I stared at Luca, but I saw Fleur’s face. “I have to.”
“You know he’s lying?—”
“Even if he is, he’s going to kill us all anyway. At least I can save you and everyone else in here who’s stood by me all these years. I go out there, and afterward, you get Fleur. Promise you will not rest until you get her back.” I hated to think what Ivan would do with her if Luca didn’t get her back. I couldn’t bear it. Otherwise, it would bring me to tears.
Ivan spoke again. “Come out here, or I’ll shoot her in her pretty little fucking head, asshole.”
A flash of pain hit me, enough to make my eyes flood.
My phone rang in my pocket, and the only reason I fished it out was for the ridiculous hope that it would be Fleur telling me where she was. But it was Godric’s name on the screen, someone I hadn’t thought of since all this had started.
Luca stared at the screen. “What does he want?”
“I don’t know. Too much of a coincidence.” I took the call. “Godric.”
Ivan spoke over the loudspeaker. “You’ve got ten seconds to walk out here, or she dies, asshole. Ten…nine…”
But it wasn’t Godric at all. “I’m okay,” she said as she cried. “I’m okay…”
Tears immediately flooded my eyes at her voice, and I clenched them shut.
“Eight…seven…”
“Sweetheart, Jesus fucking Christ…” I sniffled and swallowed the tears as best as I could. “Where are you?”
“Godric is driving me back to Paris. He saved me.”
“He did?”
“Six…five.”
“Yes,” she said through her tears. “He—he saved me.”
“Four…three.”
“I have to go. I love you.” I hung up before she could say anything else.
“What are you?—”
I slid open the panel. “I’m coming out.” I shut the panel again.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Luca snapped.
“I walk out there, and you throw the grenades.”
“You’ll die, Bastien.”
“Whistle before you throw.”
“This is suicide.”
“Just fucking do it, Luca. I trust you.”
“And I’m telling you not to?—”
“Well, I still fucking do.” I shoved him in the chest. “Now, come on.” I went to the door and cracked it open while I still stared at Luca, telling Ivan I was about to come out. “You’ve got this.” I stepped out and slammed the door, stepping into the low light from the sunrise because the darkest part of the night had passed.
When Ivan saw me walking toward him, he tossed the intercom aside and came closer to me, wearing that smug stare he’d had at the restaurant just hours ago. He stopped a couple feet away.
I stopped too.
I knew Fleur was alive, and that was enough to give me back the sense of calm that accompanied me in every situation. The adrenaline was like a drug, and I was higher than a kite, even when I was just seconds away from death. I really didn’t care about myself at all, but I cared for her with my whole being.
But I had to pretend that call had never happened. He obviously didn’t know Godric had betrayed him and taken her. My brother had probably killed all his men, so there was no one left to rat him out. “Let her go. She’s got nothing to do with this.”
“It got you out here, didn’t it?” He was shorter than me, by at least six inches.
“I want proof that she’s alive.”
“You’re already out here, Bastien.”
“Just because I’m facing you like a man doesn’t mean I surrender. Give me the fucking proof, or I’ll come at you right now. If I go down, I’m taking you with me.”
He crossed his arms over his chest as he considered the request, studying my eyes like I had a trick up my sleeve.
It was a fair assumption—because I did.
He finally pulled out his phone and made a call, holding the phone to his ear.
It rang and rang and rang.
He took the phone away and called someone else.
It took all my strength not to smile.
When no one picked up a second time, he didn’t look nearly as confident.
Luca released a whistle from inside the warehouse, the sound quiet but noticeable if anyone was paying attention.
Ivan glanced behind me before he looked at me, and he opened his mouth to give an order.
I cut him off. “I guess people aren’t as loyal to you as you think they are.” Then I sprinted, running as fast as I could back to the warehouse, seeing the grenades flying over me in the opposite direction. Gunfire erupted, and right when I reached the small door that led to the warehouse, it flew open.
I was running so fast that I stumbled when I got inside, and I rolled several times on the concrete before I smashed into a table. The explosions were enough to make the ground tremble like an earthquake had struck.
Luca shouted orders, and the men continued to fire. “They’re retreating.”
I forced myself up and grabbed one of the rifles. “Ivan dead?”
“No, I don’t see him.”
I went to one of the holes and checked the road. The vehicles that were still operational fled the scene, leaving the cars on fire in the middle of the road. Dead men were everywhere, their bodies abandoned as the living got away.
Ivan’s body was nowhere to be found.
The cars drove away, and the firing ceased.
The scene would be all over the news, and I wasn’t sure what reporters would say about it. Because what had just happened didn’t happen in countries like France. President Martin would have a hell of a time taking questions from the media.
But we were alive.
And Fleur was okay.
Luca dropped me off at the house, and I ran inside.
They were in the drawing room, a space with couches and a fireplace, perfect for entertaining—except for the fact that I never entertained. That would require me to have friends and a social life, and I had neither of those things.
Godric stood by the window, his back to me.
Fleur was seated in the armchair when I walked inside, and when she saw me, she gasped so loud and ran straight to me before she jumped into my arms.
I caught her and held her tight, savoring her smell, a scent I thought I would never breathe in again. I’d just seen her a few hours ago, but it felt like weeks and months when so much stress had aged my heart. My arms shook as I held her, and I felt tears burn my eyes because I was just so goddamn grateful that she was there. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay,” she said through her tears. “It’s okay…”
It wasn’t okay. It would never be okay.
I finally set her down and looked at her face—and I nearly threw up.
She had a black eye and a swollen nose. A cut on her cheek. Puffy lips like she’d been punched in the mouth too.
Tears flooded my eyes, and I cried like I never had, fucking broken. “No…”
“I’m okay.” Her hands cupped my cheeks, and she cried, not for herself, but for me. “I’m okay.”
Her beautiful face had been broken by fucking monsters, and I was going to kill Ivan and every motherfucker who had turned their back on me. It made me want to bloody their wives and kidnap their kids, just so they could see how it fucking felt.
“I’m okay,” she said a third time because the other two hadn’t been effective.
She was the one beaten and bloody, but she was the one comforting me. I was sick, truly fucking sick, at the sight of her. “He will suffer for this.” I sheathed my tears and pushed past the burn in my eyes. I needed to be there for her, not be the mess that she needed to clean up. “He will die for this.” My voice hardened as the blood lust came, as the all-consuming rage pushed out my despair.
She cupped my cheek. “I know.”
Godric moved from the window and approached us like he wanted to speak with me.
She glanced at him over her shoulder before she turned back to me. “I tried to escape on my own, but there were too many of them. Then Godric came, and he killed them all. If he hadn’t come…” Her eyes dropped like she couldn’t finish the thought. “I’ll let you two talk.” She stepped away, and her hands slowly slid from mine until she was gone.
I needed a second to compose myself, a second to let myself accept her absence before I could look at my brother, a man I’d never known, a man I still didn’t know.
He stepped in front of me, arms folded over his chest as he stared at the floor for a moment. He was neither arrogant nor angry. He seemed to be nothing at all, almost disinterested. But then he looked at me—and he looked different.
I didn’t know how to find the words. I was painfully aware that I couldn’t save Fleur, that even if I’d made it to her, it would have been too late. Now, I was forever indebted to this man I’d called my enemy just yesterday. “Thank you, Godric.” Those three little words simply weren’t enough for what he’d done for me. Didn’t show the gratitude that I felt in my heart. “I owe you for the rest of my life. Whatever you need, no questions asked, I will be there.” I would dispose of a murdered child if that’s what he asked of me.
His blue eyes stayed on my face with no reaction. “That’s not why I did it, Bastien.”
“Then why?” I asked. “He’ll know it was you.”
“I’m sure he already knows.”
“Then we’ll kill him together,” I said. “Now, tell me why.”
He rubbed his arm gently as he looked at me. His gaze wandered for a bit before he found what he wanted to say. “Honestly, I wasn’t going to intervene. I did my part when I warned you. And as a special favor to me, I asked Ivan to give you the opportunity to step down peacefully. I did what I could to look out for you, but you didn’t take those opportunities.” His gaze wandered again and didn’t come back to me. “But then I saw her at the warehouse and saw what they were about to do to her?—”
“Please, I beg of you…” I struggled to keep my voice even, to stop it from breaking.
He hesitated before he continued. “I thought about all the women you’d saved…and it was wrong there was no one there to save yours. It was a split-second decision. I killed them all and spared her from your greatest nightmare. Nothing happened to her.”
I had been stuck in that warehouse while my girl had fought for her life and her dignity. No fucking way could I go on after this. “She’s going to leave me, and she’d fucking better.”
Godric didn’t say anything to that. “That night Dad made you shoot that girl…”
I switched my thoughts from Fleur to the past. I gave a nod to tell him I remembered, because how the fuck could I ever forget?
“I shot her, so you didn’t have to. It wasn’t because I wanted to.” His eyes remained averted, like he couldn’t look at me. “I was always cold to you because I didn’t want you there, not because I didn’t like you, but because I wanted better for you. When I was fifteen, Dad pulled me into that world, and I hated every second of it. And I didn’t want that for you. But then you turned fifteen…and I couldn’t stop it.”
I didn’t say a word, afraid I would scare him off like a wild bird. I’d poured my heart out to him, and now he did it to me, told me something I’d never expected him to share, something that finally helped me understand.
“Dad was a fucking asshole.” His eyes finally found mine again. “When I told him I wanted to be a veterinarian to help animals…” He took a breath and looked down, like he didn’t want to relive it. “He laughed at me and then…said animals were meant to be eaten. So he shot Bear and tossed him into the woods so the vultures would eat him.” He breathed harder, pained by the story of the death of our childhood dog even though he was a grown man now.
But he was still a broken boy…just like I was. “Mom told me he got hit by a car.”
He shook his head.
“But you didn’t want me to know…”
“No,” he whispered, still visibly pained, like the memory haunted him all this time later. “I still wanted to be Dad, wanted him to be good to me, so I tried my hardest to be what he wanted. Then you wanted to be the opposite…and we drifted apart.”
“Yeah…”
“I hated you for what you did to him, but then you told me what happened, and…it made me realize how fucked up it all was. The way he treated you. The way he treated us. If it makes you feel any better, he cared about me as much as he cared about you—which is not at all. He was just nicer to me because I did what he asked.”
This was not how I expected my day to go. Head-to-head with my nemesis, getting my girl back from assholes, and having a heart-to-heart with my brother. I’d aged an entire year within a day.
He finally lifted his chin and looked at me again, his hardness back in place. “I’m sorry you had to go through that.”
I didn’t want or need an apology from him, not when he’d done nothing wrong, but it still meant the world to hear it. “I’m sorry about Bear.”
“Yeah…it still hurts.”
I stared at my brother with new eyes, seeing him as a quiet teenager who had grown distant from me. It felt like we were back in time, still possessing a fraction of innocence before we became the barbaric men we were now. “You’ve had my back…all this time.”
His eyes averted in guilt. “I knew Ivan took her.”
“And you went and got her.”
His eyes hesitated before they found mine again.
“Why else were you there?”
He didn’t answer.
“It wasn’t a split-second decision, Godric. You were there to save my girl.” My hand moved to his shoulder, and he flinched at the touch. “Because you’ve always had my back.” I shook him. “ Always .”
His eyes stayed on mine.
“And I’ve always had yours, even after all this time, even after all this bullshit.” I felt the burn in my eyes, but I didn’t let the tears fall. My fingers dug into his arm, and I felt his heat and his pulse, felt the blood that was the same as my own. “You’re my brother—and I love you.”
My father never told me he loved me. Not even in an obligatory manner. I waited and hoped it would come, but it never did. Those daddy issues had followed me all this time, even as a grown man. I didn’t want to be like him. I wanted to show love rather than not feel it at all.
Godric didn’t meet my gaze for a while, either uncomfortable by my words or overcome with emotion he didn’t show. But he eventually looked at me again. “I love you too, brother.”
I smiled for the first time that day, felt a peace I’d been searching for in the wrong places. “Let’s kill this asshole together. You and me.”
He nodded. “The Fifth Republic stays.”
“Yeah?” Another thing I’d never expected him to say.
He nodded. “Hurt people hurt people. I’m done hurting people.”
I stepped into my bedroom and found her standing near the window, too anxious to sit and wait.
Her back was to me, and I wanted it to stay that way, because the sight of her ugly injuries made me sick as hell. I wanted to kill the guys who’d done this to her, but they were already dead. So all I had left was Ivan.
She turned to me when she heard the door close, and she rushed to me like it was the first time we’d seen each other.
I hugged her tight and rested my chin on her head, squeezing her like she was made of stuffing and cotton rather than flesh and bone. The single most important thing in the world to me—and I was about to lose it.
I pulled away and looked at her, focused on her green eyes and did the best I could to ignore the bruises and swelling and the evidence of her horrible mistreatment. But it wasn’t as bad as what could have come to pass, and that was all I had for consolation. “You should leave me.” This was the woman I’d chased relentlessly, the woman I’d loved from the night we met, but I needed to let her go.
Her eyes turned wounded. “No.”
“This is the second time it’s happened?—”
“ I’m not leaving .” She stepped back slightly, clearly offended by the suggestion. “It’s you and me, and that’s it. I’m marrying you, and we’re going to be together until we’re old and die. So get over it.”
Despite my stare, I felt myself crack a smile. Her ferocity was so fucking beautiful. “Then I’m done.”
Her eyes shifted back and forth between mine. “What do you mean, you’re done?”
“With this life.”
When she realized what I meant, the emotion crept back into her stare.
“I swear to you that my life has been unremarkable for the last five years. And then you show up, and it’s fucking mayhem. The first time was an anomaly, but now there’s this, and I don’t trust it anymore.” No one tried to cross me. No one came after the people I loved. But now, my world was upside down, and I couldn’t keep the one promise I’d made—that I would protect her. I’d fucking failed, and it was the most painful experience of my life. “I’m done.”
She continued to breathe, her eyes shifting away as she considered what I said. “I don’t want you to do something you don’t want to do.”
“Trust me, I want to do this.” I wanted to walk away from the table while I still had a chance. I’d hit the jackpot with Fleur, and I wouldn’t play another hand. Just take my winnings and walk. “Sometimes shit happens, and it changes you—and I’m fucking changed. I can’t go back. I can’t live another day when I’m not the only one with a target on my back.” I shouldn’t even let her stay, not after I hadn’t saved her. My brother was her hero, when it should have been me. I would never forgive myself for it, but I was fucking weak and so damn in love that I couldn’t do the right thing. “But I need to end this first. I need to kill Ivan, restore order in this city, and then hand the keys to Luca.”
She stared at me for a long time. “Are you sure?”
“The only thing I’ve ever been sure of is you.”
Her eyes flicked away as they softened, like the words pierced her heart when they left mine.
“I hate to do this, but Luca is on his way to take you.”
Her eyes snapped back to me. “What? Now?”
“Yes.”
“Why—”
“I have to finish this.”
“But you mean now ?”
“It has to be now. Ivan has retreated, the gangs have loosened their loyalty, it’s chaos. If I wait, he might flee or hit me again.” And his death was the only thing that would satisfy my blood lust.
“But you need Luca.”
“He’s the only person I trust right now. He’ll die for you.”
Her eyes started to water. “I just came back to you. I don’t want to go. I don’t want you to go?—”
“Sweetheart.” I cupped her face, and she immediately grabbed on to my wrists. “I know how brave you are. I know how strong you are. I need you to be those things for a little longer. Will you please do this for me?”
She tilted her head down, her eyes glistening and wet. She sniffled, sucking back the tears before they could fall. “Yes.”
I didn’t want to leave her again, but I wouldn’t rest or eat or sleep until he was fucking dead. He would pay for what he’d done to my girl. For what he’d done to my city. “Attagirl.”
Luca took off with Fleur. I told him not to tell anyone where he was going, not even me.
When I walked back into the house, Godric hung up the phone. “He knows.”
“How long?”
“That, I don’t know.”
“You know where he is?”
“He’s either calling in favors and headed this way—or he’s fleeing.”
“He doesn’t seem like a runner.”
Godric shook his head. “I know he’s been using one of Sylvestre’s buildings for a headquarters. I suspect that’s where he is.”
Sylvestre was one of my partners. I’d known him for years. I knew he wasn’t thrilled about the change in order, but I didn’t suspect him to be such a snake. “How many more of my guys have rolled on me?”
He turned his stare on me, and a beat passed before he answered. “It wasn’t personal, Bastien. They always spoke highly of you, just disagreed with your ideologies. It’s just business.”
“Feels pretty personal to me.”
“How are you going to handle this?”
I gave a slight shake of my head. “That’s for my replacement to decide. I just need to remove Ivan from power and bring order back to the city.”
He had no reaction to that, just studied my face with stoic calmness. “Alright.”
“Call your guys, and I’ll call mine.”
“He’ll expect us.”
“Good. I want that asshole to know I’m coming.”
We were in the back seat together, the driver taking us across town to where Ivan was located. We had a line of cars, and President Martin had evacuated the streets and cited a terrorist situation. It was already on the news, reporters saying a terrorist group had planned an attack on the city but was being neutralized. It was a decent cover-up and somewhat truthful.
That would be a dead giveaway to Ivan, but it didn’t matter now. He was dead, regardless of whether he had a heads-up or not.
Godric glanced at his phone when a text came in. “He’s injured.”
I watched the buildings go by, the city hustling and bustling even though it was now late morning. We’d never done a hit like this smack in the middle of the day. We always waited for the cover of nightfall, but we didn’t have a choice. Ivan probably assumed he was safe until he found a new plan.
But he was wrong. “Sounds like men are rolling on him now.”
“When they found out he took Fleur, their loyalty wavered.”
That iced my wrath—but only slightly.
Godric had this innate apathy to him as he stared out the window. He’d been that way since we were teenagers, like he was permanently numb to the world around him. But when he was a kid and we played with dinosaurs together and roughhoused in the snow, he wasn’t. It made me wonder if our father’s toll really had been worse for him than it was for me.
“She killed at least a dozen men on her own.”
I turned back to him.
“Must have gotten one of their riles. Their bodies were on the other side of the warehouse, so she made it pretty far.”
Pride swelled within me. “Attagirl.”
“She suits you.” He said all of it without looking at me, eyes still on the window.
“She does.” That was the closest thing to approval I would ever receive from my brother.
The rest of the drive was spent in silence, but for a change, it wasn’t packed with layered hostility and resentment. For the first time, I felt like I was sitting beside Luca, beside one of my guys, beside a friend.
When we approached the cordoned-off street, we pulled over in the middle of the road, the other Hummers and SUVs already there. There were police cars and SWAT vehicles, all dispatched by President Martin.
The building was surrounded.
Godric got out and strapped on his vest before he grabbed his automatic rifle from the back.
I did the same and walked with my brother toward the building.
Then gunfire erupted, bullets spraying the roads as shooters fired from the windows.
I shoved Godric to the back of a car for cover. The windows shattered from the bullets, and glass splashed across the ground.
“Not going down without a fight, is he?” Godric said without raising his voice.
“He’s choosing to die like a rat. Not much of a fight to me.” I crept around the side of the car and saw the Foreign Legion deploy out the back of one of the vehicles. “If we don’t hurry, they’re going to kill him before I get a chance.”
“What does it matter? Let them kill him.”
“It fucking matters.” I watched the soldiers leave the van and break down the barricaded front door. More gunfire erupted. “I’m going for it?—”
“Bastien.”
I took off, sprinting between the cars, avoiding the gunfire that rained down because I was too fast. I zipped left then right, evading their aim until I reached the front with the other soldiers.
I took cover and caught my breath, squatted on the ground with my gun in hand.
Godric appeared from the other side, as if he’d taken a different path.
“You didn’t have to come.”
He watched the soldiers break down the door and kill Ivan’s men. “Yes, I did.”
They moved in and swarmed the building, and I followed behind them with Godric, clearing the building like we were other members of the team. There were three floors, but several different office spaces and conference rooms, a building up for lease that no one occupied.
It was like finding a needle in a haystack.
I wasn’t on the comms system with the rest of the team, but I knew that wouldn’t be the best way to speak with Martin, so I called him directly, standing in one of the hallways.
“Bastien, this is a government matter now, so you can stand down.”
Godric stood with his gun lowered, watching the hallway in case we encountered company.
“I need to kill this guy, Martin.”
“Luca briefed me. He’ll be executed.”
“You don’t understand. I need to kill him.”
After a beat, he spoke. “They’ve pinned him down to the northwest corner. Top floor.”
“Thank you.” I hung up then headed upstairs and caught up with the guys who were continuing to break down doors and get closer to the rat trapped in a corner. When they reached the last door, it was barricaded, so they broke it down with a battering ram and shoved aside all the furniture there.
But we got there too late.
Ivan had already hanged himself. He dangled from the chandelier in the center of the ceiling.
One of the guys cut him down, and he hit the floor. No life-saving measures were taken. No CPR or epinephrine. If he could have been revived, no one bothered.
I stood over him and watched him lying there, his eyes open and his skin pale, like he’d been dead for at least a couple minutes. I was robbed of my revenge, robbed of the sick pleasure I was owed.
I grabbed my pistol from the back of my jeans and shot him in the face.
Shot him again.
And again.
Shot him until he didn’t have a fucking face.
The guys didn’t stop me.
Godric just watched.
I fired until the barrel was empty.
He was gone and the fight was over, but I felt empty inside. I didn’t save Fleur, and I didn’t avenge her either. The rat chose to die like a coward rather than face me, rather than face my wrath like a man.
Godric came to my side and placed a hand on my shoulder. “It’s over.”
“For him,” I said. “But it’ll never be over for me.”
Luca picked up on the first ring. “I saw the whole thing on the news.”
“He hanged himself before I got there. But I shot his face off.”
The news was audible in the background, like the TV was still on. “It’s done. All that matters.”
After the sight of Fleur’s face, it wasn’t enough. I’d planned to kill Ivan with my bare hands. Most organized crime and gangs worked against the government, not with them, so I had an unfair advantage in that respect. Without President Martin’s intervention, it would have been harder and longer to capture Ivan, to scare off his supporters once he felt our wrath. It was an asset, but right now, it felt like a pain in the ass.
I could have gotten to him on my own—if I’d had the opportunity.
“How is she?” I asked.
“She’s fine. Staring at me with puppy-dog eyes right now.”
“Bring her home. I’m on my way.”
“On it.”
“And stick around. I need to talk to you.”
Luca paused for a moment as he let the silence linger. “I knew this was coming…”
When I got home, Luca was downstairs waiting for me.
Fleur must have gone upstairs to give us a moment to talk.
He stood there with his arms crossed over his chest, his eyes guarded like he didn’t want to have this conversation.
I stared at him and tried to find the words, but maybe the words were unnecessary. He knew my intentions just by looking at me, seeing the heartbreak in my eyes. My life was forever changed by what had happened, and that didn’t need to be explained, not to Luca. “You’ve got this, man.”
He gave a quiet sigh as he directed his stare elsewhere.
“We knew this would happen eventually. And at least it’s not happening because I’m dead.”
“I know. Just won’t be the same.”
“We both know you’ve been after my job this whole time.” I forced a smile, trying to cheer him up, even though I needed to be cheered up myself.
He smiled too, but it was clearly forced. “You caught me.”
I shook his hand and clapped him on the shoulder. “Thank you.”
He offered a slight shrug.
“What will you do with the traitors?”
“Wait, you’re done, like, now?”
“Immediate retirement.”
“Jesus.” He gave a sigh. “Just got the job, man. Haven’t thought that far ahead.”
“Good luck.”
“Thanks.” Power had been exchanged and the conversation had finished. But he stayed like he had more to say and didn’t know how to say it. “We’re still gonna go to Holybelly together on Sundays, right?”
I smirked. “Of course.”
“And we’re still gonna drink?”
“Absolutely.”
“Good,” he said. “Just wanted to make sure.”