“I thought you were just irritated with them, not that we had real fucking problems.”
He chuckles, as if he knows something I don’t. “It’s why I was so wound up before you left. They’ve been getting too close, threatening us.” He looks contrite, for him, and gets his goddamn dice out again to spin them a little. “I couldn’t keep them off our territory. They’re after all the ports, our access in Chicago included.”
“You know that bitch?” He nods. “What the fuck, Quinn?”
“Business, Nate.” He says it like it should mean something to me. I stare at him, noting the concern in his eyes again. “I just wanted you away from it, so I could negotiate without you being involved, try to get us clear of the shit that was coming again.” My eyes narrow. No wonder he was all over the place. “Our new generation was fucked the moment they started pushing for more control over Chicago.” He sighs. “I won’t let them have it, Nate. I can’t. We haven’t built this strength to be taken over by Yakuza scum.”
“Why the hell didn’t you say something?”
“Didn’t want you involved. Nothing you could have done would have made a difference. Turf war was what was needed.” He sighs again and looks into the garden. “It meant, still fucking means, returning to old school ways. Not something you would have condoned then or now.” I’m silent as he speaks,knowing it’s true, regardless of all that’s just happened. “Had to get you gone for a bit, make you think you weren’t wanted. You ever tried hiding something from you? You’re like a fucking freight train when you keep coming at me asking for a straighter route through.” He’s damn right I am. It’s what’s kept us so powerful all these years. Team work. Whether he likes that fact or not. “Guess you’ve given them that now anyway. War.”
Guess I have.
“Didn’t give you any goddamn right to punch me,” I snap, moving my blanket around in disgust.
“No.”
“That was out of order, Quinn. Not fucking acceptable.”
“I know.”
“Anything more than one fucking word answers?”
“No.” Asshole.
“Another apology would help.”
“I did what I thought was best, brother,” he says, leaning back onto the bench. “Who the fuck knew you’d find your diamond thief to get you into the middle of it anyway.” At least the beating makes a little more fucking sense now, but really?
“You could have just talked to me.”
“What, and have you try to calm me down? You’ve seen them in action now, Nate. They do not give one fuck about doing anything without violence. There is no honour. That shit is only the beginning, no matter how much you want out. They’ve got Miami if what they said about Andreas is true, and now they’ll want us gone.Me, gone. Dead preferably.” He chuckles. “You too now you’ve stolen all that fucking money. Why haven’t you done that for us before by the way?” My head shakes, some clarity coming back now I’m starting to see his points. “At least you’ve warmed them up for me, readied the goddamn storm that’s coming.”
“So, you’ve known all along?”
“About Yakuza, yes. But not what they were really after, not until you came back and mentioned Andreas. That led me along the paths back to the ports, then Marco and the diamonds, and then, eventually, Yakuza again.” He stands and walks in front of me, dice spinning. “That’s why I was so pissed when you went to Antwerp. I’d only just worked it out and you decided to go off on your own?” I’m fucking gobsmacked. And annoyed. And more than ready to get out of this goddamn chair and—“That was fucking stupid of you.” I have to concede to that to some extent. “I was too late to get to you before they got to her.”
Nothing else is said as he lets me organise the information in my own mind. What a fucked-up web. And all because we didn’t work together. I’m not even sure I’ve got anything to say in response anyway.
“You can go play happy families for a while if you want, but they’ll be back, Nate. You know that now, and you need to protect yourself. We all do.” I nod at that and tilt my head back, eyes rising up the expanse of glass that climbs into the sky. “Emily’s on her way. I suggest you organise your head and find somewhere to lie low. I’ll start this ball rolling again.” Lie low? A fucking beach sounds like my idea of lying low. “First stop is someone you’re not gonna like.” I roll my eyes at the multitude of acquaintances he has that I don’t like. It could be anyone.
“Where?”
“New York.” My snarl tells him everything he needs to know about that response, not that he gives a damn. He’ll do what’s best for us, and whether I agree or not, at this point, he’s probably right. This is his turf again now. War.
“And have a team with you this time, brother. You don’t need me anymore but get your game head on. You make your own call and let me know where you are.”
He stands after that and looks up into the sky with me, one hand resting on my shoulder. It squeezes gently for a few seconds and then lets go, his body turning with the movement. Nothing else is said between us; nothing needs saying, and I watch as he pockets his hands and wanders back off through the garden, not an injury on him from our battle with Yakuza. Quinn Cane. My brother. Finally letting me go.
He doesn’t need to. I’m standing right where I always am—at his side.
“Hang on, where the hell is Gabby?” He points up to the second floor, over to the left of where I was looking, and walks back into the building without any other conversation.
She’s there behind a window, blurred at this distance, both hands planted on the pane of glass separating us. I smile and pull in a long breath, instantly happier for seeing her again. Not that I wasn’t happy, but she brings a sense of joy with her that no other person holds for me. It’s deep inside now, rooted, and as I watch her walk along the corridor, eyes still fixed on mine, the thoughts of death and Cane life disperse for a while, just like they always do.
I did it all for her, and I’ll do it again if I have to.
She disappears for a moment, leaving me with nothing but her smile and visions of beaches that we should both be walking along. Bora. We’ll go back there, make ourselves safe for as long as I can before this shit starts all over again, because it will. And it’ll be worse than the first time around.
