The Assassin
“Goddammit,” I muttered, stepping over the pools of blood leaking from one of the bodies.
I was five minutes late. Five fucking minutes. Apparently that’s all it took for Simone to find trouble.
She should’ve stayed put in the bar for a little while longer. Let me slip in across from her at the table. Share a drink or two while she gave me a piece of her mind.
I’d been looking forward to it the entire drive down here. But a little traffic and a couple of scumbags ruined it.
I didn’t realize why the dot tracking Simone on my phone was moving so wildly until I found her here, cornered like a deer in a den of lions. I didn’t know what pissed me off more: the fact she’d lost the upper hand or the audacity these men had to chase her down and attempt to degrade her.
Simone was one of the strongest women I knew. A bunch of simpletons weren’t worthy of bringing her down.
I didn’t think twice about putting a bullet in each and every one of their skulls. Hell, they deserved worse. But, for the sake of time - and Simone’s safety - I had to make the kills quick.
Staring down at her now, body sprawled across the concrete and braids in a tussled mess, I wished I’d moved faster. “Simone,” I called as I bent down on my haunches.
Her chest was lightly bobbing up and down, a tiny sliver of hope amidst the darkness.
Still, I set my fingers on her neck to check her pulse. I needed to be sure my eyes weren’t playing tricks on me.
I exhaled when I found the pulse. My thumb brushed her cheek, reminding myself she was still alive, still here. I pushed away some of the braids that’d fallen into her face.
Unconsciousness hadn’t brought her peace. A tiny crease lay between her brows, and her lips were parted in a painful grimace.
“Oh, Simone,” I mused, brushing my thumb against her cheek. “What am I going to do with you?”
The best plan of action would be to take her home, clean her up, and send her flowers in the morning to apologize for letting these assholes get their hands on her. Maybe I’d stay for a while after I tucked her into bed. Watch her sleep for just an hour or so - just to make sure she was alright.
Something moist met my fingertips as I dipped my hand onto her neck. My brows pinched as I quickly pulled it away.
Moonlight illuminated the thick red liquid painting my fingertips.
“Fuck,” I swore.
I wrapped one arm around her torso to lift her and used the other to tilt her head to get a better look at the damage.
A tiny stream of blood ran down the curve of her neck.
The sight blew all of my plans straight out of the water. I couldn’t take her home if her head was bleeding. I wasn’t equipped to assess her condition nor was I trying to take a risk by trying to play doctor.
I needed to take her to the hospital. Now.
I lifted her up in my arms and jogged across the street where I’d parked the van. Carefully, I lay her down against the soft bed of the cargo area.
I tugged her cross body purse from around her and took it up with me to the front seat. I dug out her phone and used it to locate the closest hospital.
Using the directions it gave, I drove through the quiet suburban streets like a mad man. I didn’t have any time to waste. Simone couldn’t die. Not right now. Not by someone else’s hand.
When I was about five minutes away from our destination, I opened her phone log. The name “Izzie” covered most of the log at first glance. If I wasn’t mistaken, that was her sister.
The phone rang for a few moments after I clicked on her name. I chewed on my lip, praying to a God I didn’t believe in anymore that she’d pick up.
“Hey, Simone!” her voice, sweet and innocent, filled the silence of the car. “I was just about to call you! I was window shopping and I saw the perfect-“
“Your sister is hurt,” I cut her off. “You need to come to Blackwater Memorial Hospital - now.”
“What?” She asked, all excitement in her voice disappearing. “What happened? Is she okay?”
“Just get there as soon as possible.” I hung up before she could ask anymore questions.
My brakes screeched as I pulled up to the entrance of the emergency room. I didn’t bother turning off the car before I jogged around to the rear.
My chest stung at the sight of fresh blood pooling around her head, staining the mats. How fucking hard did she hit her head? She should’ve stopped bleeding by now.
I quickly swooped her up into my arms and carried her through the automatic doors.
“Help!” I shouted, grabbing the attention of nearly everyone in the waiting room.
Dozens of eyes widened at the sight of the wounded woman in my arms and the blood coating our clothes. “Please! She’s bleeding from her head!”
The description of the injury sent all of the nurses action. They hurried from behind the desk to retrieve a gurney and bandages.
“What happened?” One of them asked as he helped me lay her down on the gurney.
“I think she was attacked,” I replied, watching as they patted cotton pads against the back of her head. “I was taking a walk and heard a commotion: screaming, banging. I tried to help as fast as I could, but by then, the damage had already been done.”
He started rolling the gurney down the hall towards the double doors leading to the exam rooms. “You did the right thing, stepping in and bringing her here.”
“Will she be okay?”
“Let us assess her, and we’ll be out with an update.”
“Her name is Simone Nichols. I used her ID and phone from her purse to alert her family.”
He nodded. “You’re a good man. Thank you for helping her.”
I ceased my steps as we reached the “Patients Only” threshold. My heart beat thudded in my ears as I watched her disappear behind the double doors.
The last time I was in this situation, I stayed. But, that was different. Hands gripped mine. Eyes pleaded for me not to leave. She’d needed me.
Simone doesn’t.
Her sister will be here soon. She’ll take care of Simone.
Still, I lingered in my spot, the image of the blood smeared across her neck etched into my mind.
A part of me wished I could stay and wait for confirmation she’d recover.
Unfortunately, I’d broken enough rules when it came to Simone.
Although one more wouldn’t hurt, I worried it’d be the one that’d bear consequences.
Sighing, I turned on my heel and hurried back out of the hospital, muttering a prayer with every step.