The Assassin
Maria set a hand on my bouncing knee. I hadn’t even realized I was doing it until she touched me.
Tearing my eyes away from the window, I blinked out of my trance and looked down at her.
Are you okay? She signed, a concerned frown accompanying her question.
I nodded.
I’d been thinking about Simone, replaying the look on her face the last time I’d seen her. Her bloodshot eyes, tear-stained face, and pouted lips haunted me from the moment I stepped out of her apartment. I don’t think I’d ever seen her cry before.
The few tears I saw at the masquerade party didn’t count. Those were just a crack in her armor. The other night, the entire thing had shattered.
When I first called Dante and made the arrangements to stow her away in his territory, I didn’t think she’d mind.
I thought she’d see the good intentions behind what I was trying to do.
This nomadic life, full of blood and violence, wasn’t for her.
She needed somewhere stable. Somewhere safe.
A place where she could put down her roots and bloom into the woman her old life never allowed her to be.
Her rage may be preventing her from hearing it, but she had a good heart - one that bleeds so heavily for others it neglects itself. Trying to put her heart on ice felt wrong. I wasn’t convinced it would freeze - no matter how hard either of us tried.
Simone wasn’t born to be a killer. And I wasn’t keen on making her into one.
But, from the pain in her eyes the other night, I wasn’t sure if I had much of a choice.
It was that bad, huh? Maria asked.
“Mhm. She barely let me kiss her goodbye.”
She needs time. What she’s been through would be a lot for anyone.
“I know, but I just… I don’t know how to be what she needs.”
You could start by being patient with her.
She’s sorting through a wide range of emotions, and she’s not always going to handle them well.
Some days, she’s gonna need you to listen, and other times she’s just gonna want to be held.
All you can do is follow her lead. Do whatever she needs in that specific moment and go from there.
“Where should I start the next time I see her? I mean, you should’ve seen the look in her eyes. It was like I’d stabbed her through the heart.”
Where every man starts after he’s fucked up: a bouquet flowers and a sincere apology. Bonus points if you bring a treat like chocolate or cookies.
I opened my mouth, prepared to tell her that idea was cheesy as hell and would probably earn me a slap in the face rather than reconciliation, but the bell at the front door prevented me from doing so.
Both of our eyes darted to the entrance of the desolate diner we were sitting in.
A tall man in a long trenchcoat was strolling inside.
The brim of his hat was low, shielding his face in shadows.
Shoving his hands into his pockets, he nodded at the elderly waitress behind the counter who greeted him and ambled towards our table.
“You’re early,” he commented as he slid into the other side of the booth.
The cold air put a rasp in his voice. He cleared his throat to get rid of it, only to end up coughing.
He hid his mouth with his hand. Red spots stood out against his olive skin when he pulled it away.
“What bad news have you bought me this time?” He asked, quickly laying his hand down on his lap, out of our sight.
“Remember the FBI agent I needed to take care of?”
“Hard to forget.”
“She’s dead.”
“Well, it’s about time.”
“I can’t take the credit for killing her. Her own people took her out.”
He tilted his head. “How the fuck do you know that?”
I stared at him, letting my silence speak for me.
“I’ll be damned,” he muttered, shaking his head. “What the hell happened to one night?”
“We had our one night. Then, her own people tried to kill her. By the time I found her, she was already dead to the public. So, we took her in - hid her away.”
“Don’t tell me you’re planning on making her a kept woman.”
“She has the potential to be a valuable asset,” I explained. “She’s already well trained in combat and weapons. Plus, she has a set of investigative skills that could take the efficiency of our hits to the next level.”
“What about her ability to utilize those skills? Feds don’t go running around killing people for no reason. If you hand her a gun and tell her to shoot someone in the head, will she do it - without hesitation or questions?”
“I don’t know,” I admitted. I despised that it was the only answer I could give. “But, she has a personal vendetta to settle. I could use that as a foundation and build up her tolerance from there.”
“And say she isn’t able to pull the trigger when the time comes, what happens then? Will you take responsibility for her incompetence or will you let her rot in a metal coffin?”
“She’ll never go unsupervised. Not until she can take someone’s life without blinking.”
“Sounds like you’ve got it all planned out already.” Sighing, he leaned back in his chair and picked up the laminated menu. “You got options in the case I say no?”
“Yes, but I was hoping you wouldn’t.”
“Hm.” Shaking his head, his head lifted the slightest bit. Beneath the rim of his hat, his dark eyes flicked to Maria. “You and your strays.”
Maria’s crossed arms tightened as she shot a glare at Ares.
“Takes one to know one,” I replied.
His gaze returned to me for a moment, the line of his mouth tightening, before he looked back down at the menu. “Fine,” he replied. “Put more on your plate if you want to. But, don’t come crying to me when it all falls over.”
“I won’t,” I promised. I slid out of the booth, and Maria followed behind me.
“Mateo,” Ares called before we could walk away.
I stopped in my tracks, and waited for whatever he had to say next.
“Make sure this isn’t a decision you’ll regret.”
“Don’t worry,” I assured him. “I haven’t made one of those yet.”