I turned that over in my mind. It didn’t feel right. Konstantin had a sense of honor. I still had trouble believing he’d murder one of his rivals in cold blood. But even if that was true, he wouldn’t want to rule New York from prison. Why wouldn’t he cut a deal and help us stop the assassination? With his lawyers, he could be out in five years instead of twenty.
I had to see him. My chest so tight I could hardly breathe, I slowly turned around.
A huge, hot lump rose in my throat. They’d chained Konstantin’s wrists and ankles and then chained them together, like he was some kind of animal. He sat there in silence, glowering at the mirror. I knew he couldn’t see us, but it felt like he knew I was there. His eyes burned into me. Why did you do this to me?
I felt tears prickle at the corners of my eyes. I’m sorry! “Let me have five minutes with him,” I told Carrie. “Maybe I can get him to talk.”
Carrie turned and frowned at me, searching my face for any shred of deception. But I had no ulterior motive: I just wanted to stop the assassination and the gang war that would follow, the same as her. If I couldn’t, everything I’d sacrificed would have been for nothing.
“Please,” I begged.
“Five minutes,” she told me.
* * *
I opened the door. He looked up and saw me and—
He turned his head and looked away, glaring at the mirror. It felt like someone had punched me in the gut. Of course he hates you. What did you expect?
I closed the door and walked over to the metal table. The room was so quiet, I could hear the hiss of air as he breathed, each exhalation shaky with rage. I pulled out my chair, the legs scraping on the tiles, and sat down.
“Please,” I said. “You have to tell us who’s going to be assassinated. Is it Luka Malakov? Angelo Baroni?” But he didn’t react, wouldn’t even look at me. “Please! I want to help you!”
At that, he finally turned his head. But the raw fury in his eyes almost made me want him to look away again. I wilted under that glare, crumbled under it. I’m sorry! I’m sorry!
“Why won’t you talk?” I blurted, close to tears. “Co-operate, you could be out in a few years instead of...I don’t want to see you spend your whole life in jail!”
Without thinking, I reached across the table and grabbed his hand. He looked down and a bolt of fear went through me as I realized what I’d done. He was a prisoner and I was meant to keep my distance. Even chained, he could easily break my neck if I let him get hold of me. I went to draw my hand back—
And then I remembered the first time I’d ever taken his hand, in the back of his car, and how shocked he’d been. No one’s ever done that before. No one’s loved this man.
He needed someone to love him now.
So I left my hand where it was. Trusting him not to hurt me.
And when he looked up and met my eyes, I could see a flicker of blue in all that cold gray. He still loved me, whether he wanted to or not.
“Please,” I said again. “Talk.”
He shook his head, but... the blue expanded and there was a hint, just a hint, of warmth as he looked at me. He turned away, trying to hide his weakness. But I’d seen it. He still cared about me, and the reason he wasn’t talking was—
Oh God.
The reason he wasn’t talking was me! Even now, even after everything I’d done to him, he was trying to protect me. He knew that if he talked to the FBI, it would eventually come out that I’d been running away to Russia with him. My career would be over: they might even charge me with something. “No,” I said frantically, “No, I won’t let you rot in jail just so that—”
I broke off, staring into his eyes. I’d just remembered that Carrie was listening from behind the mirror. I leaned in and put my lips to his ear. “Thank you,” I whispered. “But I can’t let you do that. Tell us about the assassination. Cut a deal. I’ll take my chances.” He shook his head. “Please! There’ll be a gang war, innocents will die. I know you don’t want that!”
He lifted his head and put his lips to my ear. Even now, the feel of him there, the sound of his voice, sent a hot rush straight through me. “Even if I didn’t care about you, Golub, I can’t tell them what they want to know,” he told me. “And if you really love me, you know why.”