It also made me feel better about Saint.
Alexei was as loyal to the club as anyone like him could ever be, but he’d leave us in a heartbeat if Saint needed him more.
In the time it took me to solidify my thoughts, Alexei climbed into the cab and slipped into the back, crouching behind the front seats.
Nash stepped into Mateo’s place, shielding him from view. “You look like a man with a plan.”
Alexei plucked the stack of CDs from the back of my seat and flicked through them, coming to a stop at the Morcheeba case. “What is this one?”
“Nineties weed jam,” Nash said. “Don’t deflect me, bro. I’m running on empty here.”
Alexei graced him with a cool stare. “I am aware you are tired. So are the Crows who have tailed you since you left Nottingham two hours ago.”
“Transit with the tail bar?”
“And the Mercedes with the blacked-out windows. It seems they have spent Lorenzo’s money on being inconspicuous.”
Alexei’s tone was drier than desert sand.
Nash laughed into a yawn. “How many?”
“Ten.”
“And they’re going to hit us on that industrial estate in the arse end of nowhere?”
“Correct.” Alexei frowned at the Morcheeba case. “I have seen this before. It is Cam’s, no?”
“Saint’s,” Nash corrected. “That’s why Rubes put it in here before we knew Embry was coming. Where are you gonna be when this goes down?”
“You think you will need me?”
“Just be nice to know if a crossbow bolt is gonna whiz past my head at any point.”
Alexei hummed, still fixated on the CD case.
I reached out and took it from his hand, my fingers brushing his ice-cold skin.
“I have cold hands, chaplain. And this will hurt. But in time you will realise that pain is what keeps us alive.”
A shiver passed through me. Then frustration. I liked Alexei. Loved him, as much as I knew him. I didn’t want his existence to be tied to a shitshow of past trauma and fuck all else.
I rubbed my knuckles hard on my temples, resisting the urge, just, to punch myself in the head, but it was a close-run thing.
Goddamn, I needed this fight.
The passenger door opened. Mateo climbed up to mirror Nash on the steps opposite. He carried a tray of hot drinks and a frown that I knew was all for me.
I smelt lemon and forced a grin to my face. “You got tea?”
“Yeah.” Mateo plucked a paper cup from the tray and gave it to me before he jerked his head at Nash. “I already gave yours to Rubi, but you can have my coffee if you want it. I already boshed an espresso on my way back.”
“Give it to Alexei.”
Mateo blinked, then did a double take at Alexei lurking behind my seat. “The fuck did you come from? I was watching the truck the whole time.”
Alexei leered. “Were you?”
A harsher frown creased Mateo’s face. Then something seemed to give him pause, and a flicker I couldn’t decipher passed through his features. Or maybe it was a reflection of the bullshit makingmezone out when we had precious little time to pull ourselves together for a good old fashioned biker brawl.
