Page 71 of City Of Thieves
Two blocks later, we reach my car. My keys are long gone, but years of grand theft auto as a kid taught me how to hotwire like a pro. In less than two minutes, we’re on the M1 headed toward the airport, and I’m barking out instructions to my pilot over the speakerphone.
“There’s no time to go back to the hotel,” I tell her, hanging up.
“Just get me on that plane, Renzo,” she says wearily. “I think I’m done with London.”
“Finally, something we can agree on.” I increase the speed to ninety. “You did well back there.”
“I didn’t have a choice.”
Glancing across, I see her fingers sliding along the silver chain of her locket again as she stares out of the window.
“Where did you learn to fight like that?”
“School of hard knocks.”
I catch her glancing at me now. “Your shoulder, Renzo...” Hesitant fingers touch my skin a couple of inches above my bicep where Belov’s lucky shot ripped a hole in my shirt.
“Needs a few stitches, nothing more.”
Silence blankets us as I coax the car up to a hundred.
“Thank you,” she says quietly.
“For what?”
“For keeping your promise.”
“Not yet,” I murmur. “But I’m working on it.”
“I know you came here for your brother—”
“I hated him.” My stark words carve their dirty truth into my soul. It’s not the time for a confessional, but I’m going there anyway. Something about her always seems to force my truth to the surface. “I resented him for being my father’s favorite; for having the fucking nerve to be born first, for pinning me as the eternal runner-up...” I shake my head at how ridiculous it all sounds now. “I spent thirty-three years blaming him for my own failures. Eventually, he gave up on the notion of a ceasefire, and the hate became mutual.”
“Who started the art venture?”
“He did.” I ease off the pedal when I see a white cop car in the distance. “We hadn’t spoken in two years, then a few months before his death he showed up on my doorstep with an offer. A chance to bury the hatchet and join forces. I never wanted it, though. I was happy to keep tossing our mutual hate back and forth while playing the role of loose cannon to his ‘heir apparent’.”
“What changed your mind?”
I think of Nero’s odd behavior and final plea:
“There’s something going on that’s bigger than all this bullshit rivalry between us. I need someone I can trust with me, and blood is stronger than any oath.”
“It’s like he knew the end was coming.” I grimace at the memory. “I can’t explain it, Tatiana, but the fucking desperation I saw on his face… Petty jealousy can’t stand up to something like that.”
She sinks her teeth into her bottom lip as she takes in all my dirty secrets. “Now that Oleg and Vasily are dead, it’s only a matter of time before Konstantin knows I’ve switched sides.”
The repercussions of which will hurt the one thing she’s fighting for: her daughter’s safe return.
My grip tightens on the steering wheel.
Maybe she’s fighting for more now...
Maybe we’re both done fighting on our own.
As we weave in and out of heavy traffic, I replay Oleg’s confession in my head.
“What’s been Konstantin’s motivations throughout all of this?” I ask her.
