Like magic, Gianna emerged from the meeting pod, still clutching her iPad like it was solid gold, but a small smile in place of her scowl. Outside, the sun came out, bathing the glass walled store in warm light. It softened the stark warning that blasted through Benito’s conscience, but he felt every jagged edge all the same. Get out while you still can. Or she’s dead anyway.
“I have to walk away,” he said. “But I’ll see you right first, and I’ll pay you double if you help me.”
Fury crackled down the phone line. His contact blew out a hot breath. “You said Asa was finished. It’s the only reason I risked my neck for you.”
“He is finished. You think other crews are gonna do business with him with the feds on his back and his transport runs compromised? You don’t need me. It’s done.”
“It’s not done until he’s dead.”
“I never said I’d do that.”
“You—”
“No,” Benito snapped. “I made no promises. Remember who you are and who you’re fucking talking to. I’ll be in touch.”
He killed the call as Gianna drew closer. He tried for a smile, but it hurt. Adrenaline pumped in his veins, and his heart thundered against his ribs. Deception boiled his blood, and unbidden, Mickey clouded his thoughts again.
Benito shivered. You’re a lying fucking liar, Martell.
It was an accusation he’d faced many times, most of them justified, but never more so than as he’d driven away from Mickey’s cosy house, the taste of his deceit still bitter on his tongue. It didn’t matter that he’d done it to stop fresh panic clouding Mickey’s beautiful face. That even now, he still felt the shuddering anxiety jumping beneath Mickey’s warm skin. He’d lied, and there was no deliverance from that except telling the fucking truth.
I can’t.
“What’s wrong?”
Benito blinked. Gianna was practically on top of him. “What?”
“You’re doing that thing again,” she said. “You know, where you look like you’re going to be sick and die.”
“Nice. You know what? I’m gonna take you home to live with me. You’re all the motivation I need in the morning.”
Gianna rolled her eyes. “Don’t be so sensitive. It’s not my fault you’re weird sometimes.”
It really wasn’t. Benito fought to calm himself enough to school his features. Fuck knew what Gianna was seeing in his face right now. And whatever it was, she didn’t deserve it. “Sorry.”
She nodded slowly, dark eyes narrowed in thought. “Why do you have two phones?”
“I told you why. Because . . .” But the lie died in his throat. He couldn’t stomach it. “Because I have to work a job I don’t like for a while.”
“It’s not for Uber?”
“No. It’s something else.”
“It’s what Mum said, isn’t it? It’s the same thing you did in London when you got hurt.”
The scar on Benito’s ribs throbbed. He’d hidden it from Gianna for weeks. Then she’d taken the bus to Willen Lake to meet him and got caught in the rain. He’d given her his sweatshirt and she’d seen the gruesome wound.
She’d wept at the side of the lake, fresh rain merging with her hot tears. All the while Benito had remained a stagnant pit of nothing. Unfeeling. Cold.
He wasn’t the same man now, though. Now, it seemed a day didn’t pass when everything didn’t hurt.
Benito dropped his head, and the truth bubbled out of him. “It’s just for a little while, G, I promise.”
“What is?”
“Every terrible thing you think of me. It’s all true, but I’m trying to be a better man. You know that, right?”
Gianna had small hands, with long, slender fingers. She’d always wanted to play the piano, but no one in her life had ever got it together enough to make it happen. She brought her elegant fingers to Benito’s unshaven jaw and compelled him with the sweetest force to look at her. “You are a better man, Beni. The best. I don’t care what you do for a job.”
“It’s not a job. It’s fucking criminal, but it’s not forever. I’ll be out soon, I promise.”
“Then what?”
“Then I’ll be a taxi driver for real. All day, every day, and you won’t have to worry about me ever again.”
“What about Mum?”
“What about her?”
“Will you still pay her arrears?”
Benito flinched. “Of course. I don’t use dirty money for that.”
“Then why are you doing it? It’s not for me, is it? I don’t want street money either.”
You shouldn’t even know what that is. But for once, Benito didn’t blame himself. Gianna was old enough to know how things were. “You’ve never touched street money, I swear. It’s not even about that anymore. There’s just some shit I have to do before I can leave.”
“How long?”
“A few weeks? A month maybe?”
“Then you’ll stop?”
“Yes.” Benito took Gianna’s hand from his face and tucked it against his larger palm. “I don’t want this life, G. For me or for you. You know that, right?”
Gianna nodded and burrowed into Benito’s chest for a hug. He held her tight, using her familiar scent to tie himself down to the world, all the while chasing thoughts he couldn’t quite catch. The endgame he’d promised Gianna, combined with the barefaced lie he’d told Mickey, was a mountain he wasn’t fit to climb, and he was more out of his depth than ever. But as long as he held Gianna in his arms, he could breathe.
He felt like crying when she pulled away. “Mum’s got a counsellor coming round on Monday.”
“What? From where?”
“A charity in Wolverton. I think the housing association sent them.”
“Was it Mickey—I mean, the housing officer?”
“I don’t know. But they called Mum’s phone and she answered, so that’s something, right?”
“I guess.” Guilt flamed in Benito’s gut, and the lies he’d told suffocated him a little bit more. The whole time he’d been living a life that had hurt Mickey so badly, Mickey had done more for his family than anyone—including Benito—had in years. “She still has to let them in, though.”
Gianna hissed through her teeth. “Don’t be like that. I think she wants to be better this time. It’s not all her fault.”
“I never said it was.”
“Why are you so hard on her then?”
Because she let your dad stamp on my head until I threw up. “I’m not hard on her, just realistic. She’s been like this for years. It’s going to take more than a phone call to fix it.”
“You’re mean.”
“I’m not.”
“You are.” Gianna poked Benito in the side. “Can I have a milkshake?”
“From where?”
“Maccy D’s. I’ll pay you back.”
“With what?”
“Erm . . . your phone? I still have it in my pocket.” Gianna flashed a bright grin and took off like a rocket, darting out of the Apple store before Benito could stand.