Page 60 of Better the Devil

A look had passed between Shona and Jack, before she’d hurried off up the stairs after the girl.

Now, only the two men and the small dog lying under the table remained.

‘Well?’ Logan prompted. ‘Whatever shite you’ve come to spill, fire away. I can’t wait to hear it.’

Bosco looked down into the dregs of his coffee. He nodded slowly, as if running through one final quick rehearsal before a big speech.

This was something else that had changed about him. The Bosco of old was loud and obnoxious, and spoke off the cuff without any real thought for the consequences.

He still had the obnoxious bit down to a tee—the coffee slurping and his very presence here proved that—but the rest…?

Logan rested his weight against the kitchen worktop again, gripping the overhanging edge with both hands this time as he waited.

It took all of six seconds for his patience to run out.

‘Time’s ticking, Bosco. Either spit it out, or fuck off. Your choice.’

‘First thing is… I want to apologise.’

Logan felt a fiery flush of heat race up his chest, and a stream of equally hot bile rising in his throat.

‘Apologise? Seriously? There’s no apology for what you did, Bosco.’

‘No, I know this. I understand. What I did, what I almost allowed to happen, it is unforgivable,’ the Russian said. ‘Even if I did not allow it. Even if I helped prevent it. You were there, in that room, because of me. Because I allowed myself to be used by an evil man.’

Logan’s laugh was so sharp and loud that Taggart let out a yelp of fright beneath the table.

‘Used by an evil man? Come on, Bosco. Drop the fucking act,’ Logan told him. ‘Youarean evil man.’

‘No. No more. Once, yes. Maybe. Not evil, but… misguided. On wrong path. But now, no. Now, I am on right path.Righteouspath.’

‘For fuck’s sake, no’ this again,’ Logan muttered, rubbing a hand across his face. ‘I’m starting to think the church must have undercover missionaries working on the wings or something, the number of you bastards that come out of jail having found God.’

‘You do not believe me.’

‘I wouldn’t believe you if you told me that water’s wet, Bosco. So, do I believe you’ve made some deep-rooted emotionalconnection with a bearded fucking sky fairy? Sorry, colour me dubious on that one.’

Bosco smiled. Or half-smiled, maybe, something wistful tugging at one corner of his mouth.

‘Blessed are those who have not seen, and yet have believed.’

‘That some Bible shite, is it?’ Logan asked. ‘Doesn’t mean anything to me.’

Bosco made a faint chuckling noise at the back of his throat and shrugged. ‘Ah well. It was worth a try.’

He knocked back the last of his coffee, then returned the mug to the table with aclunk.

‘I hear about murder. Victor Belov.’

‘Oh? And how would you have heard about something like that?’

‘I keep ear to ground. Always,’ Bosco replied. ‘For things that may involve me.’

Logan’s eyes narrowed. ‘And tell me, Bosco, how would the death of a known drug trafficker involve you? I thought you’d be too busykum-ba-yahingto worry about the likes of that.’

‘Involvedis wrong word,’ Bosco backtracked. ‘I mean for things that mayharmme. Harm my family. For this, I keep ear to ground. Eyes open.’

Logan wanted to tell him that he didn’t have a family. Not now. Not anymore.