He blinks and opens his mouth to speak. Before he can say anything, I shove the gun in his mouth andpull the trigger.
“f*****g waste of a bullet.” I give the dead man a swift kick in the ribs just as yet another Greekshows up.
I turn and slide down the side of the car, my knees to my chest. Arslan is in the grass next to me. Idon’t need to check his pulse to know he’s gone. His chest isn’t moving. Even the gurgling fromearlier has faded into silence.
“You weren’t supposed to die on me,” I growl through thick, unspent emotion. “If you weren’t alreadydead, I’d kill you for this.”
The joke feels hollow, but Arslan would have liked it.
“You always said you’d die before me. I guess you were right. But not by much.” I can hear footstepson the asphalt, sc
