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Seeing as how my ride is MIA, I’m in no position to argue. I slide into the backseat with Guilia, and Gedeon tails us.
When we pull to a stop outside the house—with no sign of Arsen’s car in the drive—Guilia pats my knee. “I bet Enzo’s right. Arsen will have a good explanation for disappearing tonight. Even still, give him hell for it in the morning. Sleeping on the couch once in a while is good for a man’s soul.”
I get out of the car in a daze and wave Guilia and Enzo off. It isn’t until Gedeon steps up to my side that I realize I’m still waving, even though Guilia and Enzo are long gone.
“I’m gonna try to figure out what happened, okay?” He gives me a tight smile. “Go to bed, Laila. Get some rest. We’ll get to the bottom of this.”
When I finally give up waiting by the front window and slide into bed, the ring on my finger feels light as a feather compared to the weight on my heart.
And when I wake up, blinking my eyes open to the watery light of the early morning sun, Arsen is still nowhere to be found.
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 thepakhan,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 whereNonna Guilia’sis 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’renot 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.
