"Are they? They wear fancy clothes and live in fancy buildings on the backs of a lot of spilled blood. We all make a choice. That’s why I gave you the option to take a step back." I cast her a look. "Do you regret not taking it?" I worded that carefully, making sure she knew the time for leaving was long in the past.
"No, but I don’t think wanting to be with you means I’m like the next Don Corleone. I don’t want to kill anyone."
"You almost killed that guy the other night," I pointed out. "If you’d had a knife close at hand, wouldn’t you have stabbed him?"
Slowly, like she was processing the situation, she whispered, "I guess."
"There’s no shame in that. I don’t get off on killing people for the sake of it, Savannah. I’m not like Da—" I froze the second the words spilled from my lips and I pressed my foot to the brakes like we were driving a hundred miles an hour instead of a sedate twenty.
I’m not like Da.
Jesus.
Those words.
Four of them.
Four fucking words.
They hit me deep inside. Resonating, echoing, spinning around and around—
"Aidan? What is it?" Savannah demanded, her concern clear.
"I’m not like Da," I repeated, turning to her, unaware that I looked like death warmed over, which was ironic because for the first time in a long while, I felt alive again. "I’m not like Da."
She blinked at me then said, "Okay, well, I knew that already, but why do you keep saying it?"
"Because I thought I was," I said softly.
"Oh." She bit her lip, then her hand found mine and she twisted our fingers together. "I mean, I knew that but you’re definitely not like him," she confirmed, then she bit her lip some more. "I didn’t stop my research, Aidan, just because you ghosted me.
"In fact, I determined that I’d carry on but with more stealth." She cleared her throat. "I bribed a couple of coroners in Hell’s Kitchen to slide any deaths they thought were mob-related my way."
"Jesus," I hissed, my hand tightening on hers. "What the fuck did you think you were doing?"
"I just, I don’t know, I was curious. I always am. It’s a failing." Her nose crinkled. "But either way, I quickly discerned a pattern."
"There’s no way you could do that."
"If you’re mathematically inclined, sure there is."
I thought about how she’d had all those autopsy reports on Paddy, and then wondered why I’d been so slow to fucking realize that she had an in with, not just the one coroner’s office I’d threatened if they kept on feeding her files, but several.
I growled under my breath. "I don’t believe you, Savannah!"
She scowled at me. "Why would I lie?"
I released a sigh as I reached up and pinched the bridge of my nose. "I don’t mean that I think you’re fucking lying. I mean I can’t believe you did that shit. What the hell? I was trying to keep you from that—"
"I’m a grown ass woman, Aidan. I don’t need someone to tell me what I can and can’t see or do or read." She grumbled, "It’s that kind of thinking that made us lose five years, buddy, so change the record. Anyway, I enjoyed it. I know it’s weird, but I did."
"I’ve heard of weirder shit that people do in their off time. Although, granted, reading autopsy reports and itemizing them between mobsters definitely takes the cake. Never thought about pottery classes? How about learning how to macramé?
"Jesus, Savannah, we need to work on getting you some new hobbies." I scowled at her when she scowled at me. "No way in fuck you can maintain those links now. It’ll bring shit back to us."
She huffed. "I only did it to keep an eye on you. There’s no need to do that if I’m sitting on your face, is there?"
Even though I was beyond pissed at her, I had to laugh. "You’re such a fucking pain in my ass, do you know that?"