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“No.” I wave a hand in the air between us. “I’ve been thinking about it, and it doesn’t make sense. Why would Kreshnik kill a baby?”
“Because he’s a monster. Because—I don’t want to talk about this.” He tosses the bread on the table and spins to the fridge for the butter.
“Sure, he’s terrible,” I agree. “But it doesn’t make sense for him to kill Benjamin.”
“He wants revenge for Arber’s death. I—Fuck!” Akim pinches his hand in the fridge. The stick of butter slides across the floor. He slams the door shut and turns to me. “I made a real artful arrangement out of Arber’s death scene. I was proud of it, arranging his body on the porch like a scarecrow. I made him hold his own head.”
I wince, and Akim just nods. “I know. Gruesome. Horrible. It seemed fair at the time. But now that Benjamin is… Well, I have some regrets.”
“Not you, too. This guilt is tearing all of us apart.” I walk around the island and squeeze Akim’s arm. “None of this is your fault. You know that, right?”
He gives me a tight smile and then twists away to clean up the mess he made. “It doesn’t really matter, does it? It doesn’t change anything.”
“But it could change something. What if Benjamin is still alive?”
“I don’t want to imagine it,” he says. “Because I’m barely holding it together, Piper. It hurts to think about him at all. I’m not going to live in a pretend world.”
“I’m not living in a pretend world, either. Think about it: Benjamin isleverage. Alive, Benjamin is worth so much more to Kreshnik. Sure, he wanted revenge. But he’s still a don. Kreshnik wouldn’t miss the opportunity to take down Timofey’s entire operation if he could, right?”
He cuts slabs of butter into the pan. They sizzle, swirling and bubbling in the heat. He lifts one shoulder. “Sure. If Kreshnik was thinking clearly, then maybe he’d keep Benjamin as collateral.”
“See?”
“But hewasn’tthinking clearly. He was wracked by grief. Because of whatIdid to his son.” Akim throws a slice of sourdough bread into the pan. “I don’t want it to be true, either. But Benjamin is—”
“No!”
I can’t hear someone say it again. Kreshnik’s words have been playing and replaying in my head since I first heard them.
You stole my son from me. Now, yours has gone to join him.
I squeeze my eyes closed, blocking out the possibility that Kreshnik was telling the truth. I take a deep breath. “I know you think I’m in denial.”
“It’s normal to feel that way. What we’re dealing with is awful.”
“I know you think I’m in denial,” I repeat, “but I really think I’m making sense. Kreshnik knows if he kills Benjamin, Timofey will kill him. There is no world in which Kreshnik gets away with murdering Timofey’s son.”
“What else would he do with him?”
“I don’t know. But I can find out.”
I stand up, and Akim spins around, eyebrow arches. “What does that mean?”
“I need to go talk to Noelle. She knows more than she was telling us on the phone. She has to know something about what Kreshnik might want with Benjamin.”
I make it to the doorway of the kitchen before Akim gets in front of me, cutting off my path.
“I have to do this, Akim.”
He winces. “But you can’t.”
“I’m fine. I’m not in shock or injured. I’m completely fine.”
“No, that’s not what I—Where the fuck are you, Timofey?” he groans to the ceiling. He takes a breath and gives me a placating smile. “You can’t leave. Because I’m not supposed to let you leave. I’m supposed to keep you here.”
“Keep me here?” I repeat. “So I’m a prisoner. Is that what you’re saying?”
“A prisoner who gets grilled cheese and soup.” He tries to smile, but when he sees the look on my face, he drops the attempt. “I’m sorry, Piper. I don’t have a choice.”
