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"That's not why you cut Bobby off when he was talking. What kind of hunting do you do? What doespalachmean?"
"You don't want to know."
"Oh, but I do," I assure him.
"Leave it alone, Lucia."
"Not going to happen. You've been picking my brain for weeks. Now it's my turn."
"I never pushed you to tell me something you didn't want to."
"Are you saying you never will because I don't believe you. Either this thing goes both ways or it doesn't go at all." Darn it. I didn't mean to imply there is athingbetween us, but I'm not taking the words back either.
"Dimios." He heads toward the door to the upstairs.
"What is dimios?"
"Who I am."
Dimios is a name? "Why do you have so many names?" Dimios. Palach.
They have to mean something. That's how it works in the mafia.
Without answering me, he stops at the door and waits for me to key in the code to unlock it. Atlas, or is it Dimios? Whichever, he makes no effort to hide that he's watching the movements of my finger over the keypad with keen interest.
Since he can pick the lock as easily as use the code, I don't bother trying hide which buttons I press.
Standing in my apartment, for the first time, the space feels too small with him in it. He won't be here long, I soothe myself. But we do have things to discuss. Like the baby and what having a child together will look like for us.
"Sit down. Do you want tea?"
Slipping out of my coat, I lay it over the back of the sofa. "I would rather have coffee."
"Caffeine isn't good for the baby."
I sigh. "I know. Herbal tea is fine."
I don't know why I'm letting him act like a host in my apartment, but I'm suddenly tired. The last two days catch up to me and I flop down onto the sofa.
He fills the electric kettle with water. "Dimios means executioner in Greek."
Ah, so not a name so much as a title? "What doespalachmean?"
"I dispense justice."
By dispense justice does he mean punish, or kill? Dimios-slash-executioner implies the latter. But what doespalachmean exactly?
A cold chill works its way down my spine. "That sounds like you're more than an enforcer."
He shrugs.
"Are you? More than an enforcer?" I press.
He's silent so long, I don't think he's going to answer, but then he says, "Yes."
"What more?"
"I am the executioner."
