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I shrug. “No idea.”
“You must’ve talked, right?” Levi’s eyes widen in horror. “Don’t tell me you’re the asshole refusing to show basic social skills.”
“The guy’s a murderer,” I say flatly.
“Oh, fuck you! So are you!”
“Shut your damn mouth!” I hiss. “And don’t compare me to him. We’re not the same!”
Levi pauses, then folds his muscular arms and raises an eyebrow. “You’re right. He left prison with his head held high while you’re drowning in guilt. Jerry planted that shit in you. You’re mafia blood and you’re mourning a piece of shit who deserved to die.”
“Thanks,” I say sarcastically. “I feel so much less like a freak now.”
“Want my real opinion?”
“No.”
“Jerry got what he deserved,” Levi continues, unfazed. “From your real self. We’ve got the same blood, Aniki. One day you’ll accept that.”
I know Levi’s right, but something inside me insists this mindset is wrong. In a twisted way, I even envy my little brother. The effortless way he lives his life and has no problem with killing is strangely enviable. For him, it’s just normal.
Levi frowns. “No wonder you can’t stand Graves. You two are probably more alike than you think.”
“That’s bullshit.”
“The difference is he killed someone he loved, while you killed someone you hated with every fiber of your being.”
“Ugh…”
“Or that he went to prison for it and you didn’t.”
“Stop!”
“You hate the guy. Fine. I can make it look like an accident.”
I roll my eyes and stand up. “You love your job way too much.”
“Unlike you, I have no problem accepting who I am.”
Shaking my head, I bend down and remove my shoes. “I just want my peace back. Paparazzi have been camped outside the building for a week. It’s fucking annoying.”
“What’s the big rockstar doing? I heard Grave Sinner is playing some shows.”
“No idea. We barely see each other. I think they rehearse all day. I’m gonna shower. What about you?”
Levi shakes his head and nods toward Damian, who’s wiping sweat off his face with a towel. “We’ve got some things to handle later.”
That tells me enough. When Damian and Levi go out together, it usually means trouble.
“We need you, Koh,” Levi says thoughtfully, scanning the gym. “As a dentist, you know? Here—not in the West Village.”
“I can’t. Not yet.”
I could never tell my brother I’m still healing. I can handle the self-hatred, but Luke ripped the ground out from under me.
When Aran suddenly showed up in the apartment, it felt like my carefully built little world exploded. Still, these next five months—until the contract ends—might actually be useful. A little pressure could be what I need to get my shit together and finally figure out what I want to do with my life.
I haven’t forgotten I’m a dentist. I want to get back to my practice. How, where, and under what conditions are the big questions I’ll have to face.
