Page 77 of Graves

I finish my beer and set the empty bottle on the table just as Koh steps onto the terrace.

Not good.

Not good at all.

I should’ve hidden in the studio.

“Hey, you okay?”

I turn my head toward him and raise my eyebrows.

Is he serious?

“You okay?” I repeat incredulously. “What the fuck was that?” I point toward the apartment door.

“Yeah, sorry. My brother…”

I shrug, spread my hands, and wait. Nothing more comes.

“I thought I’d left this shit behind!” I snap at him. “And now I’m here watching my apartment turn into the emergency room for small-time gangsters? Fuck! And you! I thought you were a dentist! That looked more like a surgeon! Who the hell are you?”

Angry and stunned, I throw my hands up. My beer is empty and the urge to grab another one is overwhelming.

I stay strong. I keep my back firmly turned to the kitchen and watch Koh warily as he pulls out a chair and sits down. He appears to be preparing to make a statement. He massages the bridge of his nose and sighs.

“I’m sorry. For all of it. I didn’t want you to see that. And I really don’t like saying this, but… they’re not small-time thugs.”

“What do you mean?” I ask, confused.

I’ve shared a cell with murderers, rapists, and violent criminals. These two guys are our age and don’t look like that kind of scum.

“My brother followed in my father’s footsteps,” Koh says with another sigh.

“And what does your father do?”

“Does the name Boris Rashkov mean anything to you?”

I tilt my head suspiciously. “Should it?”

“There are two major mafia families in New York,” he continues. “Rashkov-Drakos is one of them.”

A sudden numbness locks my spine and I stare at Koh. “You’re Mafia?”

“I’m not… I… tried to distance myself from it, but that’s easier said than done. Especially after…” Koh swallows hard and looks away.

“After what?” I ask.

He rubs his face like he’s buying time, then gazes out over the rooftops of New York.

“After my mother died,” he murmurs, barely audible. He shoots up from the chair and comes toward me. “But that doesn’t matter right now. I’m not involved in their business. I chose a different path. I want to help people.”

“Hey, cousin,” a voice calls out behind me.

Damian steps onto the terrace and starts to say something, but I cut him off.

“Can’t you see we’re talking?” I snap.

My pulse spikes and a storm rages in my head, making thinking impossible. I’m on the verge of exploding and just want to scream everything out.