"I can imagine. What I can’t imagine, however, is a therapist telling you to research the deadly wars between factions in the city as a means of helping you process what you saw." He grunted. "So what made you take that leap?"
"I wanted answers that no one would give me. I wanted to understand, and no one was willing to help me do that."
"So you took matters into your own hands?"
"Yes. I found out that the Fieri Famiglia was at war with a small group of Dominicans." I shrugged. "That was why Isardo was targeted."
"He was a capo," Aidan agreed. "One of the thirteen Fieri had back then. Did it help? You knowing the reason for his death?"
"Not really, but I found that I was interested. It read like a story to me." I hitched a shoulder. "It might be your life, but to the average, everyday person, it’s pretty insane to think you guys spend your days as if you belong in a Tarantino movie."
"Trust me, it isn’t just insane from the outside looking in." He heaved a sigh and surprised me by reaching out. Tension hit me, of a different variety however. The way the tips of his fingers looped around my wrist, gently squeezing had me gulping in surprise. "Now that I understand where the obsession stemmed from, I’ll stop prodding that particular wound."
I straightened my spine. "I got over that years ago." His touch still burned me when he let go.
I could tell you exactly where each fingertip had seared my skin.
"That kind of violence leaves stains on your soul," he countered, and that he disagreed with me was clear. "If you’re an adult, then it’s hard to process. As a child? Impossible." He shook his head. "I regret that you had to see that."
He meant it.
For a second, I thought he was being funny, then, much as he read my expression, I read his.
Remorse.
God, my heart started pounding in my ears again.
"It isn’t your fault," I whispered, touched because he meant it. He didn’t know me from Adam, but he genuinely felt bad for me.
His remorse resonated on a different level too.
One survivor speaking to another survivor.
I felt it without him even having to utter another word.
Everyone who knew about that day in my life thought I was over it... The nightmares had stopped, sure, but that didn’t mean I hadn’t found coping mechanisms to deal with something I should never have had to see. He got it where few ever could.
"No, it isn’t, but I understand more than you can imagine." He dipped his chin. "Why did you want to get on my father’s good side?"
His kindness made me answer truthfully. "Because I want to write his biography."
He stared at me.
Then he stared some more.
Then his lips twitched. "Have you ever had the misfortune of meeting my father?"
"I’ve seen him at galas, much as I’ve seen most of your family at political events and charity fundraisers, but I’ve never made an effort to be introduced to you."
"Why not?"
I squirmed a little, but admitted, "You’re not supposed to meet your idols, are you?"
His brow puckered. "Idols? That’s a strong word."
"I used it for a reason. As you’ve already ascertained, I have quite a developed lexicon," I rumbled, eying him with annoyance.
"What’s to idolize?"
"I don’t worship you. It’s more like you’re my version of Justin Bieber or a K-Pop band." I wafted a hand at him. "Don’t think anything of it. I know you all put your pants on the same way and use the bathroom much as I do."
"Funny that the daughter of a rockstar doesn’t mention her father in that explanation."
"I’ve no need to. Because of him, as much as I love him, I know more than most that there’s no need to worship a singer or a musician.
"They’re more flawed than most because they have access to things few people should have at their disposal."
He pondered that, but didn’t comment on it. Instead, he said, "My father’s ego is as big as Manhattan Island. You stroke it by telling him you want to write his biography, he’d bite your hand off."
"Is that supposed to be a good thing?" I asked wryly. "In your world..."
As my words waned, he smiled. "True. I just meant he’d be very happy with that offer. That was before, however. Not anymore." His smile waned. "You’ve pissed him off by rubbing salt in wounds that are very much open still. It might seem like decades to you, but to him? Paddy’s death in particular might as well have been yesterday."
"I wanted to give him closure."
"We have closure."
"I don’t believe the Albanians killed him," I argued, but he raised a hand to stop me.
Before I could get angry at him thinking he could shut me up by raising his damn hand, Suzy murmured, "Is everything okay, Savannah? You haven’t touched your toast."
I tensed, then darted a look at my forgotten breakfast. I heaved a sigh. "I’m sorry, Suzy, everything’s fine. I just lost my appetite."
"Would you like me to take it away?"
I winced at the waste, but I couldn’t eat it now. "Thanks."
"Would you like something else?"
While I appreciated her solicitousness, mostly I just wanted her to go. Quickly shaking my head, I murmured, "No. Everything’s great. Thank you."
"You’re a very bad liar, do you know that?" Aidan murmured the second she’d gone.
Gritting my teeth, I snapped, "I’ll have you know I’m a great liar." I winced at how loud that had been, and cast a quick glance around me to see if anyone was listening.
Great.
They were.
Receiving a few funny looks from the tables on either side of me, I muttered, "You did that on purpose."
"No, I didn’t actually. I’m just surprised at how poorly your old editors read you that’s all."
"You met with every one of them?"
"I told you. I’m thorough."
Shaking my head, I snapped, "None of this makes sense. Why would you investigate me this deeply? I’m nobody to you."
"Not to my father. You touched upon an old wound, remember? But I’ll admit, he didn’t want me to come to you. He just wanted me to deal with you."
I gulped.
"Yes. Pretty much like that," he confirmed. "However, the fact that you were researching Paddy’s death made me curious."
"Enough to go digging through my past, I can see."
"Well, you’ve been digging through mine, haven’t you?" His smile made another reappearance when I winced. Seeing he’d scored a hit, he murmured, "I don’t think you’re in a position to judge."
Because he wasn’t wrong, I just bowed my head in acceptance, but it didn’t stop me from muttering, "I would never have tried to hurt you or anything."
"Neither would I. I was curious, don’t forget. It was my father who meant you harm. I’m the one who’ll save your ass if you do as I say."
"You want me to stop what I’m doing even though I’m telling you, here and now, that your uncle wasn’t killed by the Albanians?"