Finally Xan returned to Marissa and said, smiling, “I don’t think he’ll be bothering you anymore.”

Marissa watched Darren go over to Zach. They had a very short conversation; then Darren rushed out of the bar without looking in Marissa’s direction.

“That was amazing,” Marissa said. “What did you tell him?”

“I just gave him a little lesson about the right and the wrong way to treat a woman,” Xan said. “Do you want to get out of here?”

Marissa thought, Uh- oh, he doesn’t want to sleep with me, does he? Please don’t be that kind of guy.

But then he added quickly, “I mean out of this bar. Someplace quieter, where we can talk.”

“Yeah,” she said, “that sounds great.”

Tone Def was still doing their first set. Marissa went over to Hillary and said she was leaving for a while and asked her to text her if they wound up going someplace else.

“Where’re you going?” Hillary asked.

“I met a guy,” Marissa said.

“Really? Who?”

Marissa looked back toward where Xan was standing, and Hillary looked over, too.

“Oh my God, he’s fucking hot,” Hillary said.

Marissa smiled proudly.

Marissa and Xan left the bar and went down Bleecker to Cafй Figaro. They sat at a table outside and drank cappuccinos and had a great conversation about art and New York, and then he mentioned that he hadn’t gone to college but had traveled in Europe and used to live in Prague. He actually had lived in Prague. If that wasn’t a sign from the gods, what was? She told him all about her plans to move to Prague, though in the back of her mind she was thinking, Do I really want to go? Prague had sounded like a great idea before she’d met Xan. If this turned out as good as she thought it would, if she and Xan started dating, maybe she’d bag those plans.

Okay, okay, so she was getting way ahead of herself, but it was fun to fantasize.

Then they discovered an even bigger coincidence. He mentioned that he’d traveled in England, and she told him that she’d done her ju nior year abroad in London, studying at University of the Arts. Then they realized that they had been in London at the same time.

“Where were you staying?” Marissa asked.

“With a friend in Hampstead,” he said.

“Oh my God, that’s where I lived the summer after the semester ended. Where in Hampstead?”

“Um, lemme try to remember,” Xan said. “I think it was Kemplay Road.”

“I was on Carlingford Road,” Marissa said. “I can’t believe it, I was living right around the corner from you.”

They had refills on the cappuccinos, and she had such a good time talking to him that they lost track of time. They were mostly talking about her- he was asking a lot of questions about school and her childhood and her plans for the future. It was so refreshing to be with a guy who was actually interested in her, a guy she had so much in common with. It didn’t hurt that he happened to be gorgeous, too. She felt like she’d hit the jackpot.

It was getting late, so she checked her watch and yawned for effect and said, “I should be getting home soon.”

She was hoping he’d ask for her number, but instead he said, “I’ll ride home with you.”

“That’s crazy,” she said. “You said you live in Brooklyn, right?”

“Yeah, so?”

“But it’s so out of the way for you.”

“There’s no way I’m letting you ride the subway home alone at this hour.”

She said she took the subway home all the time, or could take the LIRR, which was safer, but he insisted on coming with her. She wasn’t exactly opposed. She thought he was very romantic and thoughtful, and she couldn’t remember a guy ever going out of his way to do something like that for her. Darren would’ve ditched her hours ago on some dark corner in Manhattan.

When they got to the Forest Hills stop she thought that would be it, they’d say good night and he’d head back to Brooklyn. But, nope, he insisted on walking her all the way back to her house. This whole night had been reminding her of something, but she didn’t know what, and then it hit her- that old blackand- white movie she’d seen on TV a few weeks ago, Marty. This was just like Marty- meeting a guy at a club, him taking her home late at night. Except in Marty they didn’t kiss good night, and she was hoping Xan kissed her.

On her block she suddenly got nervous, fearing everything was going to get all screwed up. The police car was there again, parked across the street. She didn’t know if Johnny had heard about the shooting in the news or not, and she was afraid that he’d see the police car there and start asking her questions. She was afraid that if he knew she was the daughter of Adam Bloom, the crazed vigilante, he’d want nothing to do with her.

She was relieved when Xan didn’t seem to even notice the police car. Maybe he was too nervous, distracted.

“Well, this it,” she said, and they stopped in front of the house.

“Wow,” Xan said, admiring it. “It’s big. I bet you loved growing up here, huh?”

“It was okay,” she said.

Then he held both her hands and they stood facing each other. She’d already given him her number on the subway, and they’d talked about going out sometime.

“I’ll call you tomorrow,” he said, and she said, “That’ll be great,” and then he was kissing her.

Finally she pulled back and said, “I should really go.”

“Okay, it was great meeting you, Rissa.”

She told him it was great meeting him, too, and they said good night and waved good- bye to each other as he walked away, down the block.

As she entered the house the alarm started beeping. She typed in the new code she had memorized and then rearmed the alarm and went upstairs.

It was amazing the way life worked out sometimes- just when she thought things couldn’t possibly get any worse, something amazing and unexpected happened. If this wasn’t evidence that there had to be a God, or any way some higher power, what was?

She rushed upstairs and posted a blog entry on this very topic.

thirteen

Johnny Long had a chance to shoot Dr. Bloom right in the head. It was a little after two o’clock in the afternoon on Wednesday, the same day Johnny killed Gabriela, and he was waiting in a stolen Honda on the corner of Bloom’s block. Johnny had been in Forest Hills for about an hour, hour and a half. There were some people in front of the house, looked like reporters, but he didn’t see any cops. He didn’t know where Bloom was, if he was in the house or not, and he didn’t even know if he’d get a chance to shoot him today. It would suck if he couldn’t get it over with, because he was tired and just wanted to go home and crash.

Then the asshole doctor came out, no, strutted out, like he thought he was hot shit, but that didn’t piss off Johnny as much as the way the guy was dressed- in sweats, sneakers, looking like he was what, going to the gym? About twelve hours ago the guy had shot Carlos in his house- no, not shot him, unloaded a whole clip into him at point- blank range, and the next day he’s going out to exercise?

Johnny usually didn’t enjoy killing people. He’d only killed three people in his life, well, four including Gabriela, and he only did it when he absolutely had to, when he had to save his own ass. But killing Adam Bloom was going to be different. It was going to be a blast shooting him in the head, seeing him fall down on the sidewalk, his blood and brains spilling out.

He watched Bloom talking to the reporters, holding court. Man, look at that guy, acting so proud of himself, using his hands to get a point across. Johnny could tell the guy was loving every second of this; he was getting off on it. Well, soon he was going to get a bullet in his head, too.

Finally Bloom stopped yapping and walked away alone toward the corner. Johnny waited several seconds, then started his car and drove slowly up the block. Bloom turned the corner, and then Johnny turned and saw Bloom about twenty yards ahead. Johnny had bought a clean.38 Special from his gun man, Reynaldo, and he had it in his right hand with the passenger- side window already open. There didn’t seem to be any people around. When Bloom got to that space up ahead where there were no parked cars in the way, Johnny would speed up a little, then slow down again and get a clear shot at Bloom’s head. Maybe, just for fun, he’d call out, “What’s up, doc?” right before he shot him.