Page 130 of Graves

Of course, the content is sensationalist and completely baseless. The photo of Koh and Luke was taken without their knowledge outside Muvi’s and proves nothing. I skim the text, ready to close the page when I read this:

“Even though Aran Graves claimed in an interview a few days ago that he doesn’t know Kohaku Rashkov, this photo proves the two live on the same street. Does Aran Graves perhaps have more connections to the Mafia than he wants people and all his fans to believe?”

My lips part in disbelief… It’s phrased as a question, of course. But I have enough experience to know how that turns into a statement, becomes a rumor, and spreads like wildfire.

Me? Mafia connections?

Fucking hell!

Up until now, I’ve respected Koh’s wishes and done my part to keep that information about him out of the media. I never let myself consider what could happen if this mafia thing came back to me.

Agitated, I drain the glass in one gulp and stand up. I send the article to Leslie, then pour myself another drink. As soon as I see she’s read the message, I call her.

“Too early, Aran,” she says, sounding distracted. She’s probably reading the article right now.

“What the fuck is this?” I yell into the phone.

There’s a brief silence on Leslie’s end. She’s never let anyone pressure her.

“Calm down,” she says, putting the phone to her ear. “We’ll take care of it.”

“Why didn’t you catch this? The article is already four or five days old!”

“Nothing’s happened yet,” she answers.

“Fuck! I… This is bad! Really bad! They already hate me! How is this supposed to go on?”

“No panic. It’s just a stupid claim. Is Koh with you?”

“No!” I snap.

“Okay, breathe deeply.”

My heart is racing and I feel the blood draining into my legs. “I’m about to lose it.”

I chug the glass in one go and refill it.

“Where’s Fox? Is he still nearby?”

“I don’t know… I… They’re going to send me back to prison. I know it!”

“That’s nonsense, Aran. You’re just having a panic attack. Everything will be fine.”

“No! Koh is gone! This is all my fault! I drove him away! And now this! It’s just like with Ben!”

“Stop it!” Leslie shouts into the phone. “I want you to count. Understand? I’m calling Fox. Everything will be okay. He’ll be there soon.”

She hangs up, and I stare at the phone. Furious, I throw it aside, gasping for air.

The chain around my chest is so tight I can barely breathe. My skin is tingling. My mouth is dry. I keep drinking—in big gulps—and pace in circles.

Together with my chaotic thoughts, I spiral into something I can’t get out of. I long for Koh, who knows what to do during panic attacks.

Why isn’t he here?

Here with me?

Of course, because you’re an asshole.