“One of my many talents.”
“But did you say it was Saoirse?”
“Yup.”
“And this would be the same woman that you were madly in love with at eighteen. The one who’s honor you were defending when you threw that smug bastard off the roof. The one you were forced to leave behind. That Saoirse?”
“That’s the one.”
“Jesus.”
“Right?” I sigh. “Talk about coincidences.”
“Esme would blame fate.”
I smile. Artem’s wife is one of the good ones—her belief in woo-woo shit like “fate” notwithstanding.
“Sounds like something Esme would say,” I laugh. “What would you say?”
“That life’s a bitch,” he replies predictably. “And sometimes, the universe likes to fuck with us for shits and giggles.”
“You missed your calling as a poet.”
“And you missed yours as a rodeo clown,” he fires back. “Now, tell me you didn’t do anything stupid.”
“Like what?”
“Like break her out of jail.”
“Why do you enjoy setting me up for failure?” I demand.
“Goddammit, Cillian,” he mutters. I can picture him rubbing his temples in frustration.
“What would you have done?” I ask pointedly. Artem falls silent and I nod emphatically. “That’s what I thought. It’s easy to talk shit to me about what I should and shouldn’t have done. No one knows what she meant to me. What she still means to me.”
“Actually, I do now. Now that I have Esme,” Artem concedes. “You’re right. I would have done the same fucking thing.”
“I know you would have.”
We sit in silence for a moment, weighing everything that that means.
When I first met Artem, he was like me—hardened, haunted, eager to crack skulls and make people submit to him.
We spent years spilling blood. Establishing our dominance. Preparing him to be don of the Kovalyov Bratva one day.
But Esme has changed him. Made him a more considerate man. Softer in some ways. Stronger in others.
Like I said, she’s one of the good ones.
“So what was it like—seeing her again?”
“It was a total mind-fuck,” I answer honestly. “Turns out I caught a glimpse of her at the airport when I first arrived. I was sure I was hallucinating. I mean, what were the chances?”
“Doing what?”
“She was running away.”
“Seriously?”