The Agent
“Another espresso martini,” the waitress said as she sat the glass down in front of me. “Courtesy of the gentlemen over there.”
My eyes snapped up from the cursive on the page and followed her gaze across the room.
Hopes I didn’t realize had risen quickly fell when I saw the cluster of unfamiliar men sitting at the bar, wearing matching leather jackets like a knock off biker gang.
My stomach rolled at the lecherous grins on their faces.
Still, I feigned a smile in silent thanks for their kindness.
I turned away before they could make any more faces or comments towards me. The free drink was nice, I wasn’t in the mood to entertain any more of their advances. I’d come here to have a little solo night out.
Emphasis on solo.
My failed attempts at catching my stalker put me in a bitter mood.
I don’t know how he managed to evade every single booby trap I set, but I almost didn’t care.
The traps were just a diversion; I was supposed to be the real threat waiting for him behind it all.
Yet, every night, my body betrayed me, too heavy from the long days at work to stay awake.
With the weekend ahead of me, I was banking on indulging in the best of both worlds with the alcohol and caffeine in these martinis. Hopefully the latter would help me stay awake long enough to get my hands on that son of a bitch.
His stupid chivalry act, tucking me into bed and tidying up my small messes, wasn’t fooling anyone.
I could spot bullshit from a mile away. He wanted me to think his goals had changed.
That he no longer yearned to murder me, but to take care of me.
As if a psychopath like him had the capacity to care about anyone but himself.
The fact he thought I was that stupid made my blood boil.
I half-expected him to show up here. I’d chosen the darkest corner in the place just in case. We haven’t spoken since our game in Vegas. Another conversation was long overdue.
I dove back into my father’s words, reaching some of the last he’d ever written.
At this point in the case, he’d exhausted almost every resource he had, but still had little to no information about the weapons dealer he was chasing.
Every time he came close, there was an obstacle that pushed him right back to square one.
The dealer seemed to always be one step ahead of him, and he didn’t understand how.
I remembered the bags underneath his eyes. The untouched dinners. The long nights spent in his study.
His obsession over this case was beginning to drive him mad. Or so I used to tell myself.
I was well aware of the tension whenever my parents were in the same room. Woke up to the loud sounds of their voices battling in the hall. Saw the tan line on my mother’s hands when she stopped wearing her ring.
Back then, I didn’t want to see the cracks happening in front of me. I wanted to blame my father’s stress on something else. Something that, at the time, made more sense.
Now, I saw it for what it was: another stone on top of all the weight he was already carrying. This case wasn’t any different than the rest. He was.
Flipping the page, I came to the untimely end of the journal. A short passage about a lead my father was going to explore the next day. The one that led to his death.
Stones of my own weighed on my chest as I read his last few words, felt the tiny bit of hope peeking through them.
My gaze drifted to the next page, searching for words I knew weren’t there. For an explanation of his demise. The uncut version - not the watered down one my mother gave me.
Rather than words, I found something else. Fringe peeking out from the spine.
My brows pinched as I picked the journal up and brought it closer for a better look. The ends were jagged and fluffed together, as if multiple pages were ripped out at once.
I turned back to the end of the passage, re-reading the sentences. Dad was talking about the lead he was going to go on the next day, but unlike the others, there was no explanation. No details. Just emptiness where his thoughts should’ve been.
That must’ve been the part someone ripped out. But who would do such a thing? And why?
The questions made my head hurt.
Rubbing my temple with one hand, I used the other to motion for the waitress. I paid for my drinks, stuffed the journal back into my purse, and left the table with my gifted martini untouched.
The cool, autumn breeze caressed my cheeks as I stepped outside. I tugged my jacket closer around my body and wrapped my arms around myself for an extra veil of warmth.
I hurried down the sidewalk, regretting my decision to walk here. The bar was only a few blocks away from my house. When I’d left earlier, the sun was out and the weather was kinder. Now, darkness swallowed the streets, hiding all the shadows lingering within it.
The clatter of boots on the concrete made me glance over my shoulder. I almost grimaced at the pack of matching leather jackets stumbling out from the bar.
“Hey, doll face,” one of them called. “You didn’t finish the drink we bought you!”
I ignored them and continued walking.
“Hey! You need a ride? We’ve got bikes!”
“And extra helmets! Wouldn’t want a pretty lady like yourself getting hurt!”
“No, thank you!” I called without casting another glance.
“Well, where are you going?” A pair of footsteps ran ahead of the others. Next time he spoke, his voice was right beside my ear. “We could escort you. Make sure you get to your destination safely.”
“I’m fine, thank you,” I said, trying to keep my voice firm but polite.
“We bought you a drink,” a different voice said from the other side of me. Thick fingers wrapped around my arm. “So, you owe us something.”
“I don’t owe you shit,” I snapped, ripping my arm free.
Another hand grasped my other arm. “Whoa there, little lady, that’s no way to talk to a gentle- Ah!” He yelped as I plucked my taser from out of my coat pocket and held it out in front of me.
“Step the fuck back!” I snapped.
“Ooo, this kitty’s got claws.” An arm slithered around me from behind, pinning my biceps down and pulling me against a hard chest. “Be a good girl and put them away.”
Wiggling in his grasp, I cocked my foot back and set it right into his shin.
“Oh shit!” He howled as his arm fell away.
I didn’t give the rest of them a chance to grab me. I took off down the street, moving as fast as my legs would go. My heart pounded in my ears, practically in sync to the army of footsteps trailing behind me.
I wasn’t dumb enough to run home, so I skidded down one of the quieter streets in the opposite direction.
Nausea rolled through my stomach, and I took deep breaths to keep it at bay.
If I could get away from a literal hitman, I could get away from a couple of drunken assholes.
All I needed to do was get them off my tail, maybe hide in another bar for a few minutes until the coast was clear, and take a ride share home. Easy, peasy.
I slowed as the sounds of their boots died behind me. I glanced over my shoulder and let out a breath at the empty street behind me. My chest heaved up and down as I came to a stop.
Setting my hands on my hips, I tried to catch my breath. “It’s fine,” I whispered to myself. “You’re fine.” I continued my stride, slower this time to regulate my rattling nerves.
I walked around the corner of the block, looking around at the landmarks to remember where I was and map out the route to get back home. I made it halfway down the block before I saw a group of shadows appear at the end. Heads moved in opposite directions, murmuring amongst themselves.
“Shit,” I muttered as a pair of eyes caught mine.
“There she is!”
I turned on my heel and ran back up the block. Spotting an alleyway, I prayed for a shortcut and took a sharp turn into it. But, there was no light on the other end. Just another wall of darkness.
“Fuck,” I hissed as I swirled on my heel.
“Fuck is absolutely right, sweetheart,” one of the men said, his burly body blocking my way. “Now, are you gonna behave?”
“Not in my nature,” I replied, raising my knee and hitting him straight in the balls.
“Ah! Fucking bitch!” He exclaimed, falling to his knees.
I tried to run around him, but one of his buddies grabbed my arms.
“We’re getting real sick of your -ahh!” he howled as I stuck the static end of the taser into his ribcage. His body shook from the elective shock.
Another one lifted me off my feet from behind and tossed me a few feet backwards.
My head collided with the dumpster at the end of the alleyway. Stars danced around my eyes as my vision blurred and the shadows in front of me doubled in size.
“There we go.” Another one grabbed a handful of my braids and gave my head another harsh slam against the metal. “Much better, don’t you think, boys?”
Their agreeable laughter echoed through my ears. My eyes fluttered from the harsh hits, struggling to stay open. Their bodies became blobs, the nerves in my brain too stunned to register them as anything more.
“Oh, shit!” An exclamation rang as their laughter was interrupted by a quick, wet sound. Some of the blobs froze for a second before falling onto the ground.
“What the-” Another was cut off, their blob mimicking the first.
The man holding my hair released me, and I fell forward without the support. As I went down, so did the blobs, collapsing over each other like piles of garbage.
The crash of my head against the concrete sent more stars swirling around my head.
I grasped at the little bit of consciousness left, the need to rest fighting with the need to survive.
But, at the sight of the black boots stalking towards me, a sign of the grim reaper himself, my body gave out, succumbing itself to the darkness his presence usually brings.