The Assassin
The slam of the bedroom door echoed through the hall like thunder cracking through the sky.
Maria poked her head out from the living room, one hand reaching for her waist as her eyes searched for signs of danger. Her chest fell when her eyes landed on me.
I was still in the doorway, plucking the key out from the doorknob. “Sorry,” I told her.
That bad, huh? Maria signed.
“I’m grateful it wasn’t worse.”
Honestly, I didn’t know what to expect from Simone when we attended her funeral. Hell, I didn’t even want to take her in the first place.
I told her over and over that it was a bad idea, but she wouldn’t listen. She was adamant about going, claiming it’d be the last time she’d ever experience a glimpse of her old life - her only chance to say goodbye.
For most of the service, her eyes remained on her loved ones sitting in the front pews, growing wetter with every passing moment behind her sunglasses.
A few times, I thought she was going to run up to them, hug them, and blow her cover.
I was proud of her for resisting. I’m not sure anyone else would’ve been able to.
When her snake of a godfather took the altar, the sadness disappeared and rage returned. She killed the man a thousand times with the daggers in her eyes. A part of me worried she might snatch one of the weapons from my waist and shoot him.
My heart damn near skipped a beat when she stood up, unsure what she was going to do next but expecting the worst possible outcome.
Thankfully, she chose the best one.
Is she gonna be okay? Maria asked, casting a long glance at my closed room door at the end of the hall.
“I don’t know,” I replied with a shrug. “Time will tell, I guess.”
She hasn’t spoken to you at all about how she’s feeling?
I shook my head.
For the past week, Simone has spent most of her time hiding underneath blankets with her face mushed into the pillow.
The only times she came out of her cocoon was when it was time to clean her leg wound and feed her.
She made the latter difficult, often refusing whatever food I offered her.
And, although I understood the complexity of the emotions she was riding, I still considered holding her down and forcing the meal down her throat anyway.
Usually, she agreed to taking a few bites before it came to that.
Within those instances, she didn’t talk to me. She just sat in silence and stared at the wall. On the surface, she looked empty. But, underneath there were a million and one thoughts running through her head.
I just hoped eventually she’d trust me enough to share them.
My bedroom door flew open, and Simone came out. She’d traded her funeral attire for a bubble vest, sweatshirt and yoga pants. The duffel bag I found her with was slung over her shoulder.
“Where do you think you’re going?” I asked, watching as she stormed down the hall.
“To finish what that asshole started,” she replied, barely sparing a glance in mine or Maria’s direction.
I caught her arm as she passed, stopping her in her tracks. “That was a rhetorical question.”
“Mateo, let me go!” She yelled, trying to yank her arm out of my iron grip.
“No. Not until you calm down.”
Her livid eyes shot up to me when she couldn’t free herself. “What do you want, huh? A thank you for saving my life?”
“I want you to be smart. You can’t take him - and whoever else is backing him - on your own. You’ll get yourself killed.”
“What do you care?” She spat, her words dripping with venom. “You were trying to kill me not too long ago! Don’t be jealous because he had the balls to follow through with it!”
Everything about her words, from the question to the insult, blew the lid off of the frustration boiling inside me. I was sick and tired of babying her ass. If she wanted to act like she didn’t have any damn sense, then I was going to treat her accordingly.
Simone yelped as I leaned down and shoved my shoulder into her hips, hoisting her up off her feet. “Mateo!” She screamed, pounding her fists into my back. “Put me down!”
Ignoring her, I walked back down the hall to the guest room - the one that locked from the outside. I tossed her hard-headed ass on the hardwood floor and closed it before she had a chance to get up.
“Hey!” She yelled from behind the door. The doorknob shook as she tried to open it. “Let me out!”
I held the knob still with one hand and used the other to lock the door.
“Mateo!” Loud bangs replaced the rattling, booming like gunshots through the apartment. “You can’t keep me locked in here, you psychotic motherfucker!”
“Watch me,” I told her, turning away from the door.
Maria still stood in the living room doorway, an eyebrow cocked in amusement.
“Not a word,” I told her before she could move her hands.
She held her palms up, turned on her heel, and disappeared back into the living room.
I retreated into my own room and closed the door, needing to put as much distance between me and the sound of Simone’s screams. But, the wooden barrier wasn’t enough.
I lay on my bed, slid on a pair of headphones, selected one of my favorite albums, and turned up the volume as loud as it would go.