What should she be ready for?
Roc’s taking her to the airport. Give her enough cash to cover a ticket home.
She’s been asking about you.
Fuck. I let that settle in, because I deserve the pain. Then I force myself to type out a reply.
She doesn’t belong here.
You sure about that?
Mind your own fucking business and do what I told you to do.
That an order?
Yup. It’s a fucking order.
You’re sending your girlfriend away without a goodbye. Got it.
She’s not my girlfriend.
Right.
I’m grinding my molars, frustrated with Lucky. With myself. With this whole fucked-up situation.
“Something wrong?” Priest asks, studying me from across the table.
Yes. Fucking everything is wrong. None of this was supposed to happen. The one-night stand, the Bratva bullshit, falling for her. I’m married to the family, to my role, to my duty. That’s what I have to focus on now.
“Not at all,” I lie, forcing a smile. “Lucky’s just being a dick.”
“As usual.” Priest finishes up his coffee.
I look back at my phone, typing out one last response.
Roc will be there at 9. Make sure she’s not late.
You’re a real prick, you know that?
Fuck yourself.
I snap the burner closed and tuck it into my suit jacket, then down my coffee like it’s Macallan on the rocks.
It scalds all the way down.
But I don’t feel anything as I toss my napkin to the table and stand.
“Let’s get the hell out of here. We’ve got shit to do.”
As we make our way through the dining room to the hotel lobby, I tell myself this is for the best. What would come of seeing Isla one last time? Nothing good. I’m still a gangster, and she’ll always be way too fucking good for me.
Isla
“Wait, what?”Luna asks Lucky on my behalf.
Which is fine, because I’m not sure I can speak at the moment.
“Rocco will be here in about an hour to take Isla to the airport,” Lucky repeats.
