Chapter 303

MASON Running my fingertip over the crease of the scrap of paper in my hand, I scan the carefully written details in Maddox’s neat handwriting for what must be the thousandth time. I refold it and return it to the pocket of my jeans while looking up at the Episcopalian church. Two guys, one wearing a baseball cap and the other in a suit and tie but both carrying a Starbucks cup, walk past me and go inside. Are they here for the support group? Am I here for the support group? Until today, I would have said no. Yet I find myself here anyway, wondering if it might do something, anything, to help me never picture that evil fuck’s face ever again. I’ve been loitering around the building for ten minutes now, and I wouldn’t be surprised if someone calls the cops soon. I have no idea how I would explain my being here. Would anyone buy me being in the heart of the Bronx for an important business meeting on a Tuesday evening? I could claim I’m here for a hookup. That would be more believable. Th