Benito’s shivers didn’t ease, but he smiled. “I know. I’m sorry I haven’t been that for you this whole time. It kills me that I’ve made your head a bad place to be.”
“I do that all by myself, mate. And you know what?”
“What?”
Mickey tightened his embrace around Benito’s trembling shoulders. “Caring about you gave me a safe place . . . from my own fucking head. You made mistakes, but so did I, lots of them, long before I met you. I never should’ve put that pressure on you in the first place. Maybe if I hadn’t, you could’ve talked to me before you went all fucking gangster rogue by your damn self.”
“None of this is your fault—”
“Shh.” Mickey laid a finger against Benito’s lips. “We think what we think and we’re probably both wrong. It doesn’t matter anymore. I’ve got you, okay? It’s over.”
Benito nodded, then he fell asleep. His arms were a vice around Mickey’s waist, and he held on tight all night long.
Epilogue
Nine months later
The water in the lake was the lowest Benito had ever seen it. The long, hot summer had dried it out, and the shallower end had been exposed as rough concrete banks.
“Man-made lakes are weird.”
Benito tore his gaze from the shimmering water. Mickey was, as ever, three strides ahead of him, leading him around the lake for their early evening run. Somewhere behind them, Gianna was sulking over a can of Rubicon, pissed off at being dragged away from her iPad screen. “You don’t have them up north?”
“Maybe. Just never sought them out.”
“Well, you don’t like mud either, bro, so if you want a paved running track, it’s here or the sports centre.”
“I never said I didn’t like it, bro, just that it was weird. I like you, don’t I?”
Mickey didn’t wait for an answer. He took off faster, leaving Benito behind, and that was how it usually went. Mickey was quicker over the ground, light on his feet, elegant and smooth despite his irrepressible energy. Benito was the patient one, happy to plug away until he got where he wanted to be—which, these days, was wherever Mickey was, as it had been since they’d met.
The loop around the lake was three miles. They ran it twice before Mickey got bored and whisked Gianna into the pub for the milkshake he’d promised her if she came out with them.
Benito watched them go, heart straining with an emotion too complex to be only love. Mickey and Gianna had a friendship that didn’t include him, and he knew why: because Mickey had been there for her in moments Benito hadn’t. He’d kept a roof over her head, coaxed her mother out of an agoraphobic black hole, and scooped her brother off the bathroom floor.
“You did those things too. You’re the best brother she could ever have, and she loves you more than anything in the fucking world.” But it didn’t seem to matter how many times Mickey said shit like that, Benito still had trouble believing it. He’d never been the best at anything, and he had the scar to prove it. A scar that still buzzed and throbbed when his thoughts got away from him.
So don’t let them. You’re stronger than that.
His phone rang as the voice in his head said its piece, an unknown number, but he was less scared of them than he used to be.
He answered with actual words instead of a grunt. “Hello?”
“Martell? That you?”
Benito’s heart froze. He shot to his feet, searching rapidly for Gianna and Mickey.
He found them still waiting in line at the bar, but the panic in his chest remained. “Who wants to know?”
“Easy, mate. It’s Luis.”
“Pope?”
“Yeah, that’s the one. Sorry, I didn’t mean to freak you out.”
“How did you get this number?”
“Asa. I asked him for it a few days ago.”
“Why?”
“Because I need to tell you something.”
“If it’s business related, don’t bother. I don’t give a fuck.”
Luis laughed. “You think I do? Remember who you’re talking to.”
Benito relaxed a little, but it was fractional. He’d gone to Luis for help all those months ago out of sheer desperation, not because they’d ever been anything remotely close to being friends. “I remember. What do you need to tell me?”
“It’s about my brother. He’s getting out. I don’t know when, but it could be as soon as a couple of months.”
“What? But he’s got years left on his sentence.”
“Yeah, well, time flies, doesn’t it? And he’s coming up to halfway through. Either that, or he’s conned a governor into doing him a solid. You know how he be.”
Benito did, all too well. If there was anyone who could manipulate their way out of prison early, it was Dante Pope. He sank down heavily on a nearby bench, stretching his tired legs out in front of him. “Why are you telling me this? You think he wants to start beef with me?”
Luis sighed. “Honestly? I don’t know. He writes me letters sometimes, but I burn them, so I have no clue where his head’s at.”
“So you tapped Asa for this number . . . just to warn me?”
“Does that surprise you?”
Benito tracked Mickey and Gianna as they moved to the front of the queue at the bar. Gianna had stuck four paper-wrapped straws in Mickey’s back pocket. He was pretending not to notice, all the while sprinkling sugar in her hair. “I don’t know. I’m still getting used to being around good people.”
“You’re doing okay then?”
“What do you care?”
“I don’t. Paolo does, though. If you’re still a massive cunt, he’ll say I stepped backwards for no good reason.”
“Maybe you did.”
“Nah. You’re too clever for that shit. And you play the long game. If you want it enough, you’ll get there.”
“I already did. I’m happy, man. Life is good. I could do without your brother rocking up to fight me.”
Luis was silent a moment. Benito wondered if he’d gone. Then rustling crackled the line, and Luis spoke again. “I saw him once, a couple of years ago. He sent me a visiting order and I let it reel me in. Even if he hadn’t changed, I thought it might give me closure, you know? That it would remind me how fucking evil he was, and I could walk away for good and never think about him again.”
Mickey handed Gianna a milkshake the size of her head, then he turned and found Benito watching from the bench. A grin warmed his handsome face, but it was guarded, as if he knew Benito had one foot in the past.
Benito forced his attention back to Luis Pope. “What happened?”
“He was different. Not so much that I can tell you he won’t come after you when he gets out, but enough that I think he might listen if someone asked him not to.”
“And that someone can’t be you, right?”
Luis snorted. “What do you think?”
Benito had no idea what he thought. He’d always known this day would come—that Dante Pope would get out eventually—but he’d never imagined he’d be having a deep and meaningful about it with his brother. “I think you’re a dude for giving me the heads-up, and I can’t ask you to do more than that. I gotta ask why, though. The fuck do you care if your brother puts me in the ground?”