He attempts a smile that falters slightly. “We’re in deep s**t right now,” he says. “Guess I was reminiscing about the last time I felt this way. I figure if I don’t make it through this shitstorm, I want you to know my whole story.”
“We’ve been through s**t storms before,” I remind him. “We made it through those and we’ll make it through this.”
“We weren’t fighting against Budimir Kovalyov,” Cillian points out.
“He hasn’t earned his reputation,” I say, my tone going flat with loathing. “But I’m about to earn mine. After I’m through with my uncle, no one will ever dare cross the Bratva again.”
He smiles. “If anyone can take on the old fucker, you can.”
We lapse into a deep silence, each pulled in to our own thoughts. Even the sweat on our beers has cooled now.
I glance back towards t
