“I wanted to tell you,” Lily says earnestly. “A lot happened in a short period of time. Then there was Lorraine’s death, and wewere moving to Italy. And I just couldn’t find the right time. I never wanted to keep any of this from you, Romi. I swear. But part of me also thought it might’ve been the best way to protect you.”
Romi offers her a smile. “I know, and I don’t blame you for anything. I most likely would’ve done the same thing. We can talk about us after. But right now, we need to deal with these two knuckleheads.”
I try not to laugh, because only my woman would be ballsy enough to scold two of the most dangerous men in this city and be intimidating enough to keep both of our asses in our seats.
“You might think you know my brother, but I can assure you, you don’t,” Lorenzo insists, narrowing his gaze on me accusingly. I’m still so insignificant to him, nothing but an irritating fly buzzing about. It makes me want to instigate another fight.
“I do,” Romi asserts. “He’s a killer who dropped out a year before becoming a surgeon, much to your disapproval. He’s not quite a psychopath, but close enough. He’s also highly irritating and a master shit-stirrer.”
“And here I didn’t think you saw all of my good traits,” I say with a smile. Her deadly glare slices back over to me, and I bite my bottom lip, silencing myself before she does it for me.
“He’s a loose cannon, Romi. It’s not that I don’t trust your judgment, but I feel protective of you because you’re Lily’s best friend. Dante can go off the rails at any moment.”
“As can you, as you just showcased by breaking half the shit in my apartment,” Romi chides.
Silence.
I don’t like being spoken about like I'm a child; however, I'm surprised and oddly comforted that someone has finally dared to speak up on my behalf or defend me. I’ve never felt like I wasworth defending because I’m self-aware enough to know that my approach to most things isn’t usually the sanest.
Lorenzo seems to straighten up, acknowledging her point. “You may judge me for pushing my brother into his studies and wanting him to make something of himself, but I’m sure he didn’t tell you why.”
Her gaze slices back to me, expectantly. Ah. I suppose there’s that. Well, there's no point in keeping secrets now. Besides, it’d been quite some time since I’ve had to hide my true self in the shadows for Romi’s sake.
“I went on a massacre,” I say simply, expecting her to judge me the same as Lorenzo did. To be disgusted or have a sudden urgency to reform me in some way.
Her gaze narrows on me, but she says nothing.
“As you can see, he doesn’t care about these things. He only ever plays games. He’s hated me for trying to put him onto a better path, to make something of himself so he can have a better life,” Lorenzo says, shifting his attention back to me. “You had started a new life, were getting an education. But you threw it all away for another massacre before coming here to New York. Why would you do that?”
I nod in agreement. Yep, that basically covers it all. I wait for the shift in her gaze, when she’ll turn on me and think of me as nothing but vile or beyond her help. But instead, she carefully asks me directly, “Why did you kill them?”
“Because it was fun,” I answer.
Lorenzo shakes his head disapprovingly, his face twisting in disgust, just as it had that day he came to clean up my mess. Hypocrite.
“What did they do to deserve it?” Romi asks next, and my attention snaps back to her.
She’s looking at me, really looking at me, and I swallow the lump forming in my throat.
No one has asked me that.
No one cared.
Instead of asking me why, Lorenzo had accused me, as if I were nothing but an irritating delinquent. It was the first time he’d visited me in so many years, and his first words were vile accusations. At that moment, I made the decision to become both sides of the coin: the irritating delinquent and the surgeon until I couldn’t lie to myself any longer.
“Dante, what did they do to deserve it?” Romi asks again.
I want to lie. But after so many years of sticking to the same story, of becoming the villain my brother so very much wanted me to be, it's time for the truth to come out.
I swallow. I know the answer I give her next will change everything between us going forward. And the thought of her looking at me with the same disgust as my brother did that day is something I can’t swallow twice. So, for the first time, I answer honestly about that night.
I clear my throat and pick at the edge of the couch. It’s strange how small I feel right now, but I look her in the eye as I think back to that time.
It was only by chance that I was at the market that day and noticed something suspicious. “There was a man who was walking around with a young girl in one of our local markets. She looked so much like Milia. Or maybe it was just her size or the way she did her hair. But she caught my attention. And something about him felt off. I hadn’t seen either of them before, and the girl seemed frightened but mute.”
I swallow again as graphic memories return. I’d seen many things. Dealt with many things. But there’s one thing I draw the line at.
“It felt off, so I followed them back to a big house on the outskirts of town. There were more adults there; six men andfive women, to be precise. There were more children as well. Fifteen in total.”
