Chapter 6 Halo
Chapter six
Halo
“Sightline”
I pulled down the visor and looked in the mirror.
I hadn’t shaved in a few days. My eyes were too hard, and my jaw was clenched too tight.
I didn’t look like someone who belonged anywhere near a quaint little coffee shop with flowers outside the door.
So I took a breath, cleaned myself up as best I could with a napkin and water bottle, and finger-combed my hair back.
I looked over at the mask in my passenger seat and decided to leave it, for now.
This was just recon. I would evaluate the location and come back later to take her out.
That’s what I told myself as I got out of the car, crossed the street, and opened the café door.
The bell above it chimed.
I was assaulted by warmth, the smell of coffee and cinnamon.
It was almost too much, like walking into a body care store full of lotions with obnoxious scents.
At the sound of the bell, she looked up from behind the counter, and for the first time her eyes met mine.
Real, direct, no barrier. And then she smiled.
She had her hair pulled back, practical, the kind of tied-off neatness that said she worked with her hands and didn’t want it in her way.
Her eyes were soft, unarmored, too honest for a city like this, and when she smiled it hit crooked, like she didn’t fully believe she was allowed to take up space in her own life.
Up close, she looked breakable in all the ways that mattered.
Not weak, not helpless, just… unprotected.
Warmth and cinnamon and light clinging to her like a second skin while I stood there with my jaw locked, trying to remember she was a target and not a person.
Trying not to notice how easy it would be to reach across that counter and end everything in a heartbeat.
Fucking hell. She was even more wholesome up close.
“Hi, there,” she said. “What can I get started for you?”
I froze just in front of the door, jaw opening soundlessly.
She waited.
I scanned the menu. My brain registered words but not meaning. What the hell is a flat white? I didn’t drink coffee unless it was caffeinated sludge out of a paper cup.
Her smile didn’t falter, but I saw her tilt her head patiently.
She looked like she was happy to wait forever.
I cleared my throat and walked over to the counter, now the only object between us.
I could reach across and wrap my hands around her throat from here, drag her onto the floor.
She would break so easily. Even by hand, with no weapon, it could be so quick.
“…whatever you think I’d like,” I finally said.
She laughed, the sound soft and sincere. “You sure about that? I’ve been known to get creative.”
I nodded. “Surprise me.”
She reached for a mug and turned away, and I let out a breath.
I felt like I could breathe again, now that I wasn’t caught in her gaze.
She mixed things together like a bartender, and then she was turning around to pass the mug across the counter.
Her fingers brushed mine in a way that sent something sharp and unwelcome straight through my spine.
“It’s a honey lavender latte,” she said. “A little sweet, a little strange. Felt right for you. Reading your aura, you know.”
She motioned with her hand, making a circle around my face from a distance, winked, and smiled again.
I didn’t return it but something about the way her eyes crinkled at the corners made me feel like I didn’t have to.
Like she didn’t expect more than what I was capable of giving, and she was satisfied with that.
I took a sip.
Fuck. It was good. Frustratingly good. Warm, smooth, subtly floral. Nothing like the bitter trash I was used to.
“You like it?” she asked, cocking her head.
I nodded once. “It’s fine.”
She grinned. “I’ll take that as high praise. Feel free to have a seat and enjoy it.”
I slid into a table in the corner with my back to the wall so I could face the front door; old habits die hard and all.
She moved on to the next customer, chatting with a woman holding a toddler.
She gave a free chocolate chip cookie to the kid.
I watched her, catalogued her movements, but every time I brought my thoughts back to the mission, she’d laugh or tuck a strand of hair behind her ear and my calculations unraveled.
Matteo had said she was a loose end, but this wasn’t someone tangled in crime.
She had been in the wrong place at the wrong time.
Isn’t that the story of everyone’s life, though?
An untied shoe, a hesitation, tripping over the sidewalk…
all of this could have put her off the trajectory of being a witness.
That moment was going to define her life; it was going to end all of this.
She was a light – a tiny ball of sunshine – that would soon be snuffed out because her path crossed those of people who didn’t even know who she was before.
But, again… why did I fucking care?
I stayed until the shop closed. Didn’t mean to – I just kept thinking that if I waited a little longer, I could come up with a plan and execute it tonight, so I could get this over with.
She had no cameras. There were two doors: the front and one that led into the back alley, where the dumpsters were.
Traffic on this street was nearly nonexistent, and with the glare of the lights at this time of night, you couldn’t see inside unless you were right beside the glass.
She interrupted my thoughts again by taking the seat across from me and sliding a blueberry muffin across the table. I bristled, sitting up straighter and regarding her like something venomous that was uncomfortably near.
“Looks like you could use something solid,” she said. “You’ve got that whole ‘brooding tortured soul’ thing going on.”
I stared at her.
She shrugged. “I used to date an actor. I can spot the performance types. Are you a poet or something?”
That almost made me smile.
She wiped her hands on a rag and glanced toward the back room. “I’ve gotta clean up. You’re welcome to sit, but I’ll be locking the door in about twenty.”
I nodded. “Yeah… I’ll get out of here. Nice place you’ve got. I appreciate the drink and the muffin.”
She gave me one last, curious look. “You never told me your name.”
I paused, because that was a line I didn’t cross. Names were leverage, intimacy. But I felt inclined to tell her, since the knowledge would end with her anyway.
“Halo.”
Her brow lifted. “Like the video game?”
“No.”
“Like angels?”
“Not quite.”
She laughed again. “I’ll figure you out.”
Eden got up and disappeared into the back of the shop, and I ate the delicious muffin, every crumb. I didn’t savor food very often, but this… this was good. Before I stood, my hand slid to the knife in my pocket.
She came back into the front of the shop, suddenly, surprising me. She slipped on a wet piece of tile, catching herself just with her elbow on the bartop. She laughed, her cheeks flushed pink before she steadied herself and carried another box to the back.
I had to get out of here. I didn’t want to risk staying longer than I already had. As I watched her move confidently – happy and humming under her breath like this world had never hurt her – I felt something foreign settle in my chest.
Regret. Regret that I ever said yes to this job.
Because I could already tell that killing this girl would be the one thing I’d never forgive myself for.