Dante #3
“Yes, but I think this may be crossing into your realm.” Alex stiffens; that catches his attention, prompting him to straighten up.
“The girl I’m seeing, her apartment got broken into, she has cameras, and caught him waiting for her.
He was only waiting for her; he hadn’t stolen anything or looked through her belongings.
He was just waiting. When she came home, he hid in her bathroom and then tried to kidnap her before she called me to help her, scaring him off.
In my professional opinion, someone tried to put a hit on her.
I tried to look her up, but her identity is being concealed.
The name she uses is not registered in the national database, which has led me to believe that she’s on the run already. ”
“So you need me to do what?”
“Whoever she hired was damn good at their job, and they scrubbed her digital footprint. I can’t find a single thing about her to track down who may have sent the hit and deal with them myself.
So, I’m coming to you to ask you if you could ask around and see if anyone has put a hit out recently on someone who fits her description? ”
“You’re asking me to do a dangerous thing, Dante.”Alex’s eyes were sincere, and he spoke softly. “Collecting intel could get my men killed, and I’m not in a position to fight anyone right now.”
“I know, and I promise it’s just for my benefit. I just–I can’t lose her, Alex, not like this.” I swallow hard, remembering my mother's bloodied face. “Please, I’m not asking for results right away, I just need answers. She’s safe for now.”
Alex stares at me, studying me. “Fine. Give me two weeks. I can’t have my men going around asking questions, especially if she does have a hit on her. Be patient with me, and I’ll see what I can find.”
My body relaxes, and it feels as if a weight has lifted. “Thank you.” I rifle through my jacket pocket and hand him a paper on which I wrote Luna’s description.
“I get to meet her, though. Dad said that you called to reserve a table, and he was surprised to see you with a woman the other night at Charm.”
“You keeping tabs on me?” I joke.
“Yeah, I need to know when they let trash into my clubs.” Alex smiles. “No, he called me the next morning. He said you were there with a beautiful woman, and that—you looked happy.”
“Yeah, and he told me to tell you to stop by the house, and that we need to come by for a family dinner. The old man sure does a lot of talking.”
Alex laughs, giving me a knowing look. “You know he’s a gossip; no one's secret is safe with him. Which I’m sure you, of all people, understand why I stay away.” He gestures to the room around him.
I throw my hands up, “I’m not here to guilt you into seeing them. I know, and I get it. I was just told to pass along the message.” Alex gives me a nod, and I stand. “I gotta go now, thanks again for doing this.”
“Of course. You’re still my brother, Dante. Even if you’re an asshole.” Alex gives me a challenging look, but I don’t correct him. “Leave the way you came.”
I nod and turn to leave. I brace myself, holding onto the knob for the door, and open it. The bass booms through the office. It’s like a punch to the chest. I turn back to Alex, “How can you stand this shit?”
“You get used to it!”
I turn, shutting the door behind me, and make my way back to the surface. I get back on my bike and check the time. It’s a little after one in the morning, and it's time to deal with my next contract.
I drive down to Castle Island drawbridge, where I have a car parked in the Park it flips to green, and the little red light on the external camera flicks off.
I smile and approach the back door, picking the lock, and when the door opens, and no alarms sound, I let the dark parts of my mind take over.
This is what you love to do: the thrill of the kill. You love to hunt your prey.
I do. I love watching bad people suffer, and I love being paid to torture them. It fills the void temporarily, and the market never runs dry, so I can fill the ever-growing void any time I’d like.
I walk over the threshold and close the door behind me.
The silence of the home envelops me, and I dare not breathe as I listen for the slightest creak from the floor above.
I stare up at the ceiling, my heartbeat the loudest thing in the room.
When no sounds come, I move through the home, making my way to the stairs.
The rich mahogany wood leads up to another dark hallway.
A flash of light comes through the windows, and the crack of lightning sounds a second later; rain begins pelting the windows.
Perfect.
Kill. Kill. KILL. Kill him now!
The darkness in me floods my vision, and my feet move on their own.
I move silently up the stairs and down the hall like a ghost. I studied the layout of his home by accessing his security system, and I quietly slipped into the ajar bedroom door I knew belonged to my target.
I turn, staring down at the pathetic old man from the foot of his bed.
Disgusting pervert. Look at him, sleeping peacefully like he isn’t the monster he is. Probably dreaming of his next victim. But there won’t be a next.
I slip off my backpack and unzip it to take out my kit. I pull out the leather roll case and lay it on the settee at the foot of his bed. I quietly unroll it to reveal my playland of tools. It has all the knives I love to use, even a wrench, pliers, wire cutters, and a bonesaw.
Can’t forget to bring a bonesaw. I made that mistake once; bones are tough to cut through without one. 0/10 do not recommend.
The lightning illuminates the room again, and John is still sleeping, none the wiser, the devil has come to collect his soul. I pull out the rope in my backpack and make a noose. I slip it gently over John’s face, and take the rest of the rope, and loop it around the bedpost to give me leverage.
On the next burst of light, I pull the rope tight, the crack of lightning covering John’s cry for help.
The noose firmly grips his neck as he flops around trying to free himself.
I grab one of my hunting knives, a long one, from the roll case, then seize one of his hands and ram it through, pinning it to the bedpost. John tries to scream, but it comes out as a strangled gargle.
“Hello, John,” I say calmly, when he stops struggling.
“The Murphys send their regards this evening.” The old man lunges forward, but the rope snags, pulling him back down against the headboard.
I tie off the rope, securing it in place, and I walk to the foot of the bed.
John’s eyes track me as he struggles to breathe.
“You’re an evil man, John. You’re a perverted old man who likes to hurt little girls, your own flesh and blood, too.
You are the scum of this earth, and it’s time for you to leave it.
There will be no mercy for you, only pain. ”
I watch as a tear falls from his eye, and a sob rips from him.
John starts thrashing around, crying out as he struggles to free himself.
I grab my mini machete from my leather case, grab his toes, and slice clean through the top of his foot.
John wails, but another convenient crack of lightning covers it.
Blood soaks the bottom of the bed, and my vision blurs as I stare at the growing puddle. My vision shifts, and it’s my mother I see lying on the kitchen floor of our home. I see the monster that took her from me, standing over her.