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A beat later, Taylor Swift is disappearing in a haze of skinny limbs and black material. It’s a little too big for her, but not by much. I push the sleeves up as she hauls her backpack onto her shoulder.
“Happy birthday, Bambi,” I say quietly, as she disappears out of the door.
CHAPTER 30
FRANKIE
After a week of ninety-degree sunshine, London’s given up the pretence. The clouds started rolling in over the A112 an hour ago, and now summer rain is staining the grey tarmac as Santiago’s private jet touches down at City Airport.
“Looks like he brought the storm with him after all,” says Viper, as the aircraft taxis to a smooth stop a fifty metres away from us, echoing my own thoughts, just as the sky splits with the first bolt of lightning. Five seconds later, a thunderclap is echoing all around us. “Hope you’re not superstitious.”
Unforgiving? Yes. Bleeding red over a woman? Undeniably.
As far as I’m concerned, everything else is on mute.
Leaning back against the car in my black Armani three-piece, I slide my hands into my pockets as the ground staff prepare the aircraft’s steps. Two similar jets arrived an hour ago with a hundred of Santiago’s best men onboard. A fleet of bullet-proof SUVs have already dispensed with them, and now we’re stuck here waiting for the main event.
Crossing my ankles, I hear Aiden’s words in my head:
“If you play in hell, it’s smart to have the Devil on your side.”
That’s if we can get him to dance with us first.
Time is running out.
This is Ada and Alex’s best chance to have the life they deserve; the only chance I have to fulfil my oath to my father without ending up dead myself… Me, Ada, Viper, Bambi, Viper’s whole crew—we’re balancing on a knife’s edge again.
But Santiago is a man who places his bets on first impressions. If we mess this up, we’re all fucked.
Viper starts pacing. “This is worse than a job interview.”
“Let me do the talking,” I say, as the jet’s door swings open.
He’s been acting strange since last night, but I’m not about to call him out in it. Not after what he disclosed.
“Just don’t get us killed, Lastra.”
“Got to take a chance to feed the fury.”
“That sounds a little spicy for my liking… What’s the game?”
“To earn his respect.”
Joseph Grayson is the first to appear, taking the steps with his cool swagger, a young teenager trailing behind him. They don’t look like father and son, but the way the tall Texan turns to address him makes me think otherwise.
The boy walks quickly towards one of the waiting cars and climbs inside, giving us a grin as he passes.
Viper catches my eye. “Great omen. Get the underagers out of the way before the shooting starts.”
“Be ready for anything.”
“Church burial or cremation?”
Grayson stops five metres away from us, making the distance feel like an ocean. “Frankie.”
“Welcome back.”
“I see the weather is more true to form this time around.” He casts a dismissive look at the sky. The summer rain is still falling in a muted fashion, but the thunderstorm is picking up pace. “Santiago’s just finishing a call.” He turns to address Viper when a familiar, scarred face appears next to him.
