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?"
"Well, takes one to know one," she sniped, huffing again and folding her arms across her chest with a petulant pout that made me want to bite her bottom lip. "I was only trying to tell you that I quickly discerned the deaths your father was involved in."
I reached up and rubbed my forehead where a headache was starting to gather. "You did?"
Did I even want to know how?
Just the idea of having to read reports was enough to make me want to puke. I spent most of my life avoiding the written word, and whenever I could, I listened to text.
The last words I’d read, in bulk, were from Uncle Paddy’s fake autopsy report.
"I did. He has a flair that speaks of enjoyment. Your father would, in all likelihood, always have been a killer. Whether he was a part of the Irish Mob or not. So, when you say, ‘You’re not like your da,’ I know you’re not."
"You can’t know that. Not really. Because I only just figured it out myself."
"I’m not saying you’re not cruel, Aidan. The shit you did is terrifying, but there was no enjoyment to it. You didn’t prolong people’s deaths."
I thought she was old enough to know better, but she’d just proven to me that she was capable of some dumb fuck moments so I decided to test the waters, push her buttons, and tell her, "The guy who came into your apartment—I prolonged his death. He paid for what he did to you. He paid for not only hurting you but for scaring you. When I was torturing him for information, I made it slow and I made it hurt, but I did that for one reason."
"Me," she said softly, her smile pure when the topic of conversation was anything but pure.
"Yes," I said gruffly.
"Your father’s a psychopath, Aidan—"
"You’re the one who’s excited about meeting him," I drawled, watching her shrug.
"He fascinates me. I can’t help it." She chuckled, but it was sheepish. Embarrassed. "I know it’s odd."
I could no more stop the soft laughter falling from my lips than I could stop night from turning into day. "I’m the one with the psychopath for a father, little one. If anyone should be embarrassed, it’s me." When her warm gaze collided with mine, I teased, "Anyway, you’re no stranger than those guys who like true crime novels."
Her nose crinkled. "Thank you for trying to normalize it, but I’m pretty sure they don’t go to the extents that I have."
"I guess it was all just homework for the real thing, huh?" I jibed, feeling a little lighter, enough that I could joke about something that definitely wasn’t funny, but then, she did that to me. For me.
Somehow, amid the darkness of my world, she shone a flashlight over it. Not to illuminate the nasty stains but stumbling over it like Nancy Drew. Except, this particular Nancy Drew had the hots for the bad guy. Not the good.
"You’re not your father, Aidan," she assured me. "Not saying you’re a good person, but you’re not him."
I had to laugh. "Gee, thanks."
Sending me a wink, she murmured, "Just telling it how it is."
"Brutally so." I snorted, but I eased off the brakes and started trundling down toward the house.
"Aidan?"
"Yeah?"
"I don’t—" She paused. "I can’t—" When she hesitated again, I shot her a look. "What is it?"
"I’m just trying to find a way to phrase it."
"Phrase what?"
"I don’t care what you do. I know I should. I know it’s bad, but there’s so much bad in this world. So much of it." Her head tipped back against the rest as her eyes fluttered close. "I’ve read so much of what the Sparrows did to women, and I’ve learned some things that I didn’t want to know a human could do to another living being—some of which were in the files I got from the coroners—but I just ask one thing of you."
"What, little one?" I asked quietly.
She gulped, tilted her head toward me, then whispered, "That you don’t get caught."
I released a breath, then reached for her hand and raised her knuckles to my mouth so I could brush my lips over them. "Your wish is my command."
Thirty
Savannah
The day had not gone how I’d imagined, but I was starting to see that that was the way my life was going to be from now on.
It wasn’t even Aidan’s fault.
It was mine.
He was right—I was the one who had dived into this with the Sparrows. I was the one who’d brought just enough danger to myself that Aidan had pushed aside his guilt, and had let his fear for my safety trigger him into acting because, in his mind, it was far better for him to be the monster in my life than the ones waiting out there in the shadows.