territory. Malakov territory.” He looked around. “My father and I walked the streets, meeting the people, checking they were okay. Kicking out the ones who tried to deal drugs.”
The guilt was churning in my stomach. I wanted to find something bad, something about him that would make me feel better about betraying him. “You make it sound like you were protecting them,” I said. “But you’re talking about protection money, aren’t you? You weren’t looking after them out of the goodness of your heart.”
He frowned and then nodded. “Yes. The businesses paid, not the individuals. But in return, we really did look after them. No drugs where people lived. No street crime.” He sighed. “I’m not saying we’re good people. But we created order. You remember the neighborhood we just drove through?”
I nodded.
“Ralavich territory. They take the money and give nothing back. The alternative to order is chaos.”
I tried to hate him. I tried so hard. But in this broken world where vultures like Ralavich would sweep in and tear neighborhoods to pieces, was his way really so bad?
Despite all my instincts, I was beginning to understand. The coldness I’d seen when I’d first met him was a shield, because showing weakness would be fatal in his world. The brutal violence I’d seen was horrifying...but maybe it was necessary.
I closed my eyes. Jesus, what was I becoming? Was I really justifying what he’d done? I’d seen him beat a man nearly to death—he would have killed him, if I hadn’t intervened. And yes, part of me had wanted the guy dead, at that moment, because of what he’d done to those women. But that didn’t make it right.
I realized he was staring at me, waiting for a reaction. I shook my head. “I can’t...I understand, but I can’t—”
“I never lied to you about what I was, Arianna,” he said. He said it gently, but I could hear the concern in his voice. The frustration. He could sense, on some level, that I was going to end it.
I nodded miserably.
“I can show you the hospital where my mother died,” he said. “I can show you where they gave me my tattoos. I’m showing you my past.”
“ Why? ” I said desperately. “Why?”
“Because if I share my past, maybe you’ll share yours, too.” He stroked my cheek and then tucked a lock of hair back behind my ear. “I want to help you, Arianna. You are too good a person to be in so much pain.” He shook his head. “Even if you won’t be with me, I want you to be happy.”
I don’t deserve that. Even if talking about the crash would help, what right did I have to feel better, when I was about to destroy his whole life?
I closed my eyes, trying to stop the tears coming. I couldn’t last until that evening. I had to do it now. “Luka,” I said. “We have to talk.”
And that’s when the truck slammed into the side of the car.
That sickening flying feeling I’d felt once before, and countless times afterwards in flashbacks. This time, we didn’t just skid and then fall. We shot sideways, Luka’s body crashing against mine, our heads almost cracking together. Then there was a crunching impact right on the other side of my door and we were flipping. I lifted off my seat, weightless for an instant. The ceiling became the wall and then the floor.
We did a full turn in the air. The car slammed down onto its wheels and my spine felt as if it was trying to force its way through my head. Then silence, except for a hiss of steam from the engine.
I looked around. The air was full of choking white dust from where the airbags had fired. They were all around us, cushioning us from the sides of the car. The car itself seemed to have stayed in shape, although most of the windows were cracked. Beside me, Luka was groaning but awake. Yuri was slumped over the wheel, either unconscious or dead.
The door next to me was wrenched open and hands freed my seatbelt and hauled me out. I was still blinking from the dust and I