Page 84 of Burn this City

Yes, and? Why did Jack sound bitter now? “And what’s the problem?”

“And I … didn’t.”

“Bullshit. You made it possible.”

“Possible. Jesus.” Jack’s eyes narrowed with pain. “And I got nothing. My job … everything I’m good at, that’s all done. You winning always meant I’d lose. Yes, I’m breathing, but that old me, the man I was as part of the Lo Cascio, he might just as well have drowned. And I think I deserve to find out who else I can be.”

“Might just as well have drowned.”

Fuck. Then who’d the man he’d had sex with been then? Jack didn’t even allude to that, though, likely to keep his dignity, but Sal thought he could hear those meanings in his words too.

“Yes, you do,” Sal said and meant it.

“Thank you.” Jack took his bag, slipped the strap over his shoulder and stood. “Goodbye, Sal.” He turned to leave.

“But you can do that here.”With me.Sal forced himself to remain sitting.

Jack half turned. “I’ll be a traitor and turncoat. I’ll never be anything else.”

“And I turned you into that, is that what you’re saying?”

Jack’s lips tightened. “No. I made my choices. I own them.”

Brave fucking consigliere. Jack had always had heart, but his integrity and inner strength kept shining through, and Sal admired him for it. Few men just unblinkingly accepted the consequences of their own actions. At the same time, Jack was definitely being too harsh on himself. He rubbed over his face. “I told you we’d talk about everything. And you didn’t even give me a chance for that.”

Jack glanced back to the departure board. “I’ll miss my flight.”

“Talk to me, Jack. After that, I’ll let you go. Fuck, I’ll even walk you to the fucking gate.”

Jack took a deep breath, closed his eyes, then shook his head. “You got everything you wanted.”

“I think we both know that isn’t true. I didn’t get you.” Shit, and this was something he’d wanted to say after some languid sex in that huge bed in his suite. Ask Jack whether he could imagine trying for something more. He’d been ready to negotiate the terms of a relationship—and now it seemed that had never been on the table. Sal had never been much of a negotiator, but he realized that had been Jack’s whole life. Everything he was. This was little-explored territory for Sal, but he’d be damned it if he walked away without trying.

Jack’s face softened and he seemed to waver. “It’s not enough. Who would I be if I stayed?”

“Whatever the fuck you want. Retire if you want. If it’s not working out, I’ll drive you personally to the airport, though a bit more slowly.” The attempt at cracking a joke didn’t fall completely flat; Jack’s lips twitched. “Don’t think all of … all of this happened because I used you. I didn’t use you when it came to the personal stuff.”

“No, I didn’t think you did.”

“Then give me a chance.” Sal stood when Jack kept looking at him. He wished he knew what was going on in Jack’s head—that was one constant in their relationship. “If it’s because of the job, fuck it, you could work as an independent negotiator and act as my go-between with the Dommarco. Or join my people.”

“How would that look?”

“Independent then. Reevaluate after a few years. There’s plenty of work for a smart man. Fuck, get in with the Prizzi, I’m sure they’d have work for a consultant. Do whatever you want.”Just don’t leave.

Jack was wavering, thinking, and Sal took another step toward him. He wanted to touch him, but they were in public, and he really didn’t want to spook Jack now. Not while everything could still turn to shit. Jack could still decide to run, and while Sal had the means to hunt him to the ends of the earth, he’d force himself to let Jack go if he really wanted that. After everything he’d done to Jack, he did owe him that much respect, even if it would hurt like hell.

“But for what it’s worth,” he lowered his voice even more because the last thing he wanted to do was entertain a bunch of travelers while they queued for their burgers, “I’ll always respect you. Your choice. If you want my protection, you can have it. If you want anything else … same. It really is your call this time.”

Jack gave him warm smile. “Thank you.” It sounded heartfelt, and Sal still expected a “but” and then Jack would walk off and vanish from his life.

But it didn’t come. Jack cast another look at the departure board, then plucked his boarding pass from his inside pocket, ripped it up, and threw it in the nearby trash can. He gripped his bag tighter and returned to Sal. “I didn’t check out of the Lodge. Should we meet back at my suite? Discuss the … particulars.”

“Of course,” Sal agreed and watched Jack go. He didn’t quite manage to take a deep, calm breath—he’d do that when he could hold Jack again. Kiss him. Fuck him. Keep him. Of all the things about Jack that intrigued him, of the many ways the man had earned his respect and won his heart, Jack’s poise and grace under fire hit him the hardest. But having to go toe to toe with him and being so unsure who’d win in the end still unnerved him. He’d never met anybody else who could turn the tables so completely on him, outwit him with his head under water, even at the cost of his own life. There simply wasn’t anybody like Jack Barsanti.

Spadaro stepped to Sal’s side. “I don’t think I have to chase him down again.”

“No, I think he’ll listen.”

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