The video ends, ejecting the VHS when it’s done. I look at Derek. “Explain all of that in really dumb terms.”
A knock at the door startles me, but he stands casually and walks to it. A man in a white jacket wheels in a cart of food, leaving us with it. Instantly, I can smell chicken Parm. Derek lifts the lids, making steam flood the top of the table. The food is incredibly hot and fresh, making my mouth water immediately. He carries over a silver tray, placing it on the coffee table in front of me. I take the silverware, nodding. “This is evil. You know how I feel about food.”
He chuckles. “I thought it was only my food.”
I take the first bite of the noodles after dragging it through the marinara and crispy cheese. My eyes close on their own, and a moan escapes my lips.
“That hurts my feelings.”
I nod. “It should. This is fantastic.”
“Better than mine?” He sits across from me on the floor with his silver tray of steak and potatoes. A meal more fitting for him.
“Explain.”
He cuts into the juicy rare steak. I have to look away or I’ll lose my appetite. “There is so little to explain. You know it all. We fell in love; I never lied about that.” He takes his bite, lifting his gray-green stare to mine. Watching him chew the meat, remembering the image of my father butchering the man in the stark blue room, takes my appetite away. He nods. “You fell in love with a monster. I never hid what I was or what I did. You knew it all—the only person in the world who had seen the place inside me where there should have been a soul.” He swallows, making me gag. He points his steak knife at me. “This is why you made me take your memories. You couldn’t eat meat. You couldn’t see me eat anything. You couldn’t sleep without a light most nights, even if I was there. You couldn’t, and that was the answer to everything. We’d be in a café in France and I’d ask a question and you’d lose the color in your face, staring at a man who looked similar to your dad. You wouldn’t even hear me. You were lost in the shame you felt for it all. I tried to explain to you that sometimes we are born in a trap that’s already set and we are going to lose no matter how hard we fight it.”
Tears run down my cheeks.
“At least you can cry now. That’s a new development.”
I sniffle, wiping my eyes. The plate of food in front of me is delicious—I know it is. The man in front of me is devoted—I know he is. The world is so large we could get lost in it if we wanted to—I know that. But the trap has still got me. I am still losing against it. Only this time I’m not going to keep losing. I refuse. I push the plate away, determined this will be the last time I lose anything. “I want to end this, all of it.”
“Then you have to go to Italy and open the box.”
I cock an eyebrow. “You saw the video. I told myself not to do that.”
“That’s the only way for this to end—take away the thing they want.”
I shake my head. “There has to be another way.”
The look in his eyes turns grave. “You and me dead is the other solution they have.”
“The stuff in that box is protecting us from death.”
He sighs. “No it isn’t. We aren’t safe as long as we have it. It needs to go away, and then we need to go away.”
It just doesn’t seem like the right choice. I shake my head again. “What if the people who want the information against you are all dead? Will you be free then? Who is it?”
He looks a bit defeated when he sighs and says their names: “Randall, Rory, and my contact, Don Nobleman. The files in the system on us are all blank. They don’t keep work orders on the things we do, and every death looks to be an accident, so there is no proof.” His eyes narrow with amusement as if he’s laughing at a joke on the inside. “Apart from the evidence you gathered. You were the only one who was ever able to do it.”
“So if they are gone and we destroy the evidence in the safety-deposit box, technically you and I are free?”
“Technically.”
One thing picks at me. “Why did I keep the evidence?”
The grin he’s been playing with finally spreads across his face. “Because you were going to do the right thing and bring me in. You needed to gather as much evidence of my sins as you could manage before bringing me in. It would make my insurance I keep on the government null and void. No one believes a guilty serial killer about anything. With proof I was a savage, they could lock me up, and anything I tried to use against them would look like the mad ravings of a lunatic.”
My stomach drops. “Did I start a relationship with you for the job?”