He dangles Jude’s car keys in his hand. “Neither can Jude. Come on, Let’s go for a drive.”
Behind the wheelof Jude’s car, Dino is a demon. I’ve no idea where we’re going, only that I’m enjoying the rush of flying through darkened streets. The boy can drive, I’ll give him that.
As he drives, the dim interior light makes his eyes a midnight blue. “I wanted to get you alone”—he blushes as he looks at me—“before you decide which of us you want.”
Dino. How do I crush you without tearing your wounded heart out?I have no fucking clue. Why don’t guys come with a manual? I could just outright tell him I’m not staying. But I’m done arguing with Dino, and that topic will surely cause a disagreement.
I go for a safer option and ask “why?” I already know the answer. The boys have a dynamic which puts Lorcan firmly in the leader spot. Whenever they’re all together in the same room, both Jude and Dino defer to him.
“You only have eyes for Lorcan when we’re together,” Dino says, smashing that theory to the ground.
“I don’t…”
“He’s not the better choice. He brings you problems. So does Jude. They can’t help you the way I can.”
I sigh. “You mean the way your family can.”
He doesn’t say anything for a moment, studying the road. “I am my family.”
“Are you? Jude said that you’re trying to stay clear of your brother.
Dino’s hands clench the steering wheel, making the scars on his knuckles stand out as the silence stretches for a good long minute.
“How did you get those scars?” I say, changing the subject. Unlike Lorcan’s tattoos, they aren’t pretty, although I find them attractive all the same.
He narrows his eyes and snorts. “Fighting.”
“And the ones on your arms?”
He looks at me. “You’re being extra nosy tonight.”
“I’m just curious.”
He stares straight ahead for a few seconds, muscle in his jaw ticking. “I used to self harm.”
“And you don’t now?”
“Not any more. Not since my father died. He liked to beat the shit out of us, or make my brother and I beat the shit out of each other for sport.” He gives a harsh laugh. “I was glad when the fucker died.”
“Did you kill him?”
He glances at me, brows furrowed. “No, my brother did. Had me help him get rid of the body. So you see, there’s no getting away.”
I take the titbit of information Dino thinks is totally fine to share with an assassin he’s hired, and tuck it away for later. I may never use it but it’s useful to know. He’s still glancing over at me between looking at the road, waiting for me to react, waiting for me to share back.
That’s what friends do.
He’ll be waiting for me to share for a long time.
We drive until we get to a strip of road that leads into an industrial estate in a more dodgier neighbourhood. Loud bhangra music and the sound of cars firing their exhausts sounds in our ears before we get there. Finally, we pull into a nondescript parking lot.
The place is high-energy, lit up like a festival with the amount of flashy cars and their headlights. Pimped out rides litter the area, participating in burnout contests. Boy racers smoke weed, and girls with fur hoods and tight short skirts mill around letting guys grope them on top of car hoods. It’s like an outdoor rave but with engine smoke and the smell of burning rubber and marijuana.
“Why are we here?” I say, looking at Dino.
“This is one of my old haunts,” he admits. We slow to a crawl. The crowd of teenagers give us blank looks until Dino winds the window down and they recognize him.
At the far end, a neon yellow Evolution Lancer sticks out in the dark for miles around. A group of teenagers I recognise from Royal Deacon are leaning against it. One of them, arm around a girl wearing what looks to be a bikini top in the middle of winter, is Razor.