“So you just don’t give a fuck about anything anymore, that it? You’re just happy pining over her ‘til you waste away?” Pitch braced his hands on the counter. “I’m sorry this turned out like it did, but you gotta moved past it. There will be other girls-”
“Not like her.”
“Hell Ro,” Pitch shook his head. “Alright, alright, you’re right. Imani Kamande is pretty goddamn amazing, but she’s gone and unless your plan is to go to Africa and bring her back which, by the way, is historically one of the dumbest moves of man’s entire existence. It’s also likely to get you skinned alive. You’ve got to forget her or at least let her go enough for you to live.”
Roman was quiet for a while. He rubbed his head as if trying to process his brother’s words. He started to stand, but second guessed the choice and looked over to Pitch.
“Go on,” Pitch gave his permission with a wave.
“What’s all the cleaning for?” Roman surveyed the loft with a shrewd eye. “I’m used to walkin’ around in here on a carpet of clothes.”
“Fuck you,” Pitch sang the coarse sentiment while pulling more sandwich fixings from the refrigerator. “Candace’s mom won’t be in Louisiana forever. When she comes back, we’ll want... privacy.”
Roman walked around the living room, picking up old photographs- some of just him and Pitch, more with their other brothers. “You love her?” he asked.
“Very much,” Pitch replied with no hesitation.
After a while, Roman turned for the kitchen, taking a seat at the cooking island when he got there. “Thanks,” he said when a sandwich was pushed before him. “What would you do,” he asked following a monstrous bite of the roast beef and salami on wheat. “If you lost her? If she was just-just gone all of a sudden?”
“I’d track her down,” again Pitch spoke with no hesitation. “I’d bring her back to me,” he winced and grinned. “I’d make sure she wanted to come with me. Damn girl’s likely to break my jaw if I try to drag her away by force. Point is,” he continued after a short round of easy laughter, “She’d be here, Ro. She wouldn’t be in Africa surrounded by an army of her father’s men. Men likely to have you shot if you so much as sniff in her direction.”
“She loves me, P. I know it. I just...I just know it.”
“And you love her too? Or is it a different kind of attraction?”
Bristling, Roman pushed away from his half finished sandwich. “It’s not like that-”
“Hey? Hey? Alright,” Pitch lifted both hands in surrender. “I believe you, okay? Wanna know what else I believe?”
“Hell,” Roman slouched over the island. “Do I have a choice?”
“Actually you don’t. I believe...if you and Imani are meant to be, it’ll work out and that’s what I just know. Until then, live. If you let yourself waste away, how will she recognize the guy she fell in love with? How will you recognize him?”
Some of Roman’s hard shell began to melt, his expression appearing less wary. “Thanks.”
Pitch shrugged off the gratitude. “Thank me by finishing that sandwich. I’m not trying to leave anything for the roaches.”
“Whoa! You really are turnin’ over a new leaf.”
“Screw you.”
“Not interested. Anything else I can do?”
“Besides takin’ a bath? Yeah. Come with me to Candace’s on Saturday. She’s making me this big meal. I told her I wanted to hang out with you some more-she said to bring you along.”
“Well, well,” Roman reached for his sandwich, “family introductions, huh?”
“She’s important to me, Ro.” Pitch was all sincerity then.
Roman nodded, lifted his long brows in a resigned fashion. “Hope I won’t louse it up for you.”
“You? Never. So? Can I count on you?”
Roman extended a hand, smiling when his brother clutched it. “Always,” he said.
~43~
“I have to admit, I wasn’t sure I’d hear from you again.”
“I have to admit, I wasn’t so sure you would either.” Humphrey said through the phone line while studying the view of Manhattan from his corner office of Tesano headquarters. His mouth twitched on a smirk when Jude Ophion’s laughter curled through the receiver.
“I was sure the apparatus would’ve been a little overwhelming.”
“How many people have you shown it to?” Humphrey recalled the strange machine full of pumps and tubes he’d seen at Ophion’s Chicago warehouse.
“You’re the first to see it.”
“Why me?”
“I believed you could handle it. Are you calling to tell me I’m right?”
Humphrey eased a hand into his pocket and fixed an eye on the toe of his Oxford loafer. His library visit had confirmed a few aspects of Ophion’s background-including his family origins in Antikythira, Greece. Still, he had yet to confirm whether Ophion was real or an alias taken from Greek mythology. Ophion was the serpent who ruled the world with the goddess Eurynome before they were cast down.
Sean Rowan, Humphrey’s assistant, had yet to uncover anything more. Until there was something to control his new acquaintance, a partnership could be a long time coming.
“Tell me about these surgical photos. The ones in your file,” Humphrey asked instead of giving an answer. “Are these kinds of operations only available to medical students or could others take part?”
“In a surgery, you mean?”
