“It’s not naivety. It’s hope that you’ll be a better man than you think you can be. I have to have hope to keep helping you,” she trailed off.
“Yeah, well, I’ve never had any kind of hope, until her. She is my hope, and if I let her leave me, I might as well lie down on the street and die.”
“Then die,” Giada said suddenly. “Kill the monster. Become the man she needs. Be good enough for her. That’s your only hope.”
I bit down so hard I tasted blood.
“Send me Blackwood’s address,” I commanded.
My phone chimed a second later with the details, and Giada hung up.
37
MASSIMO
Dr. Blackwood lived in an old apartment near the center of town. Sure, it wasn’t the best neighborhood, but it was the kind of place where people could go unnoticed. I was sure that the good doctor had a whole lot that he’d like to go unnoticed.
He had a top-of-the-line lock on his ancient door, but I’d never met a lock I couldn’t get around. I had a set of picks in my pocket just for the occasion, as well as something to jam a home alarm.
Once I was inside, I listened carefully for sounds of habitation. There was nothing. It looked like Blackwood still had places to be during the day. I didn’t like the thought that the psychopath was still out there in the city, treating innocent people.
He was a monster, just like the unholy trinity and just like me, and tonight, he’d answer for his sins.
His house was cluttered inside, the kind of place passed down through the generations, and in Blackwood’s case, he didn’t seem to have cleared out any of his elders’ belongings.
With its wood paneling and brown carpet, the seventies were jealous of his avocado bathroom suite. I went room to room until I found his bedroom.
A king-size bed took up nearly the entire space. The bedding was in disarray, a pet peeve of mine. Maybe it was my years in the military, but a man who couldn’t make his own bed in the morning didn’t have any kind of discipline.
I wandered around the room. Though it was cluttered, there were few personal effects there. An old ID badge with Blackwood’s face on it from a hospital downtown. Old train ticket stubs from years ago tucked into the corner of a mirror.
I sat on the creaky rocking chair in the corner of the dim room and waited.
I didn’t have to wait long in the end. The sound of the lock turning echoed down the hallway only an hour later, and Blackwood entered the dark apartment.
The rustle as he walked told me he carried grocery bags to the kitchen. He sighed when he set them down. The apartment was so small, every sound carried.
Then he tossed his keys onto a hard surface, and his footsteps started my way.
He came in but didn’t bother turning on a light. Instead, he shrugged off his blazer and loosened his tie in the moonlight. He hadn’t seen me. He didn’t seem to be on his guard at all. It was stupid and naive and certainly made my life easier.
I reached out to the table beside the rocking chair and clicked the lamp on.
Blackwood froze in the process of taking off his shirt. He was looking at the floor and didn’t even raise his gaze to me when he spoke.
“So it’s my turn,” he said quietly.
Ah, so it wasn’t naivety that had made him unaware of danger. It was resignation. How boring.
“Yes, it is finally your turn.”
He dropped the ends of his shirt and faced me.
“You got a weapon on you?” I asked. “Going to try and take me off guard?”
Blackwood laughed; it was a strangled sound. “Would a weapon work against L’Ombra?”
I sat forward, the gun in my hand pressing against my knee, pointing at Blackwood.