Page 10 of Assistant to the Assassin

She shakes her head, tucking a strand of her brown hair behind her ear. “I tried to run away once, and he found me.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that happening again. This piece of shit won’t be bothering you or anyone else anymore,” I vow, tightening my grip around my gun’s handle.

Her lips part; her eyes widen. “You are going to kill him.”

I give a single nod. “Hurry along now. I promise you don’t want to witness what’s about to happen.”

Understanding my warning, she darts into the next room and grabs a pile of clothes. She clumsily dresses herself as she heads towards the door, and she doesn’t give me or Colt another glance before she runs towards the elevator, shutting the door behind her.

I kneel in front of Colt, who glares up at me with gritted teeth. “Who fucking sent you?” he demands, his tone weak from blood loss.

“God.” I lean an arm on my bent knee, my gun in the other hand. “I’m the reaper he sends to deliver souls to their moment of judgement, and based on what I’ve seen, I’m pretty confident in how you will be judged.”

He whimpers at that, tears slipping down his cheeks. It’s a beautiful sight, one I revel in.

“Any final words? Any prayers for forgiveness?” I ask, pressing the barrel of my gun into his temple.

He doesn’t answer. Instead, he begins to sob, clutching on to his shoulder and curling up on his side like a scared child.

I lean forward a bit, lowering my voice. “It’s said that if you pray for forgiveness from God, he will pardon you and thus cleanse your soul, but that’s a bunch of bullshit. There’s no redemption, no repenting, no forgiveness that can be bestowed on someone that enslaves, exploits, and violates young girls.” I spit those last words out, my voice so low that it makes this piece of shit start to shake.

I put my gun on safety, slipping it into the waistband of my pants. I then pull out a retractable knife I always keep in my suit jacket pocket, and when his eyes land on it, he cries harder.

“God’s judgement will have to wait for a little while longer,” I trail the blunt side of the knife along his cheek, making his shaking only grow worse. “I would say you have only a few minutes before those bullet wounds make you bleed out, which doesn’t give us nearly as much time to play. But I guess I’ll take what time I’ve been granted.”

I flip the knife around in my hand, pressing down into Colt’s skin, and that’s when the screaming starts.

There’s a man who leads a life of danger,

to everyone he meets he stays a stranger.

I peel my eyes open and zero in on my phone, which is illuminating my dark bedroom with its bright screen and blaring that song at full volume. I reach over and grab it, pressing the answer button on the call while still lying cocooned within my heated blanket. “Henry, you okay?”

I hear heavy breathing, then a soft, “I need you.”

His shaky tone is like a splash of cold water on my head. I sit upright, the blankets pooling down around my body. “Where are you?”

“Outside your front door.”

Dropping my phone, I jump out of bed and bolt down the stairs, taking them two at a time. When I reach my door, I quickly undo both locks, then I swing it open and find Henry sitting on my doorstep, covered in blood with his head in his hands.

I fall to my knees in front of him, looking over his body to see if there are any obvious injuries. “You hurt?”

He shakes his head. “No.”

“What happened? Did you get Colt?” I cup his jaw gently in both hands, not caring about the blood seeping into my skin.

He nods. “He’s dead.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

Henry lifts his head a bit, his eyes falling to his bloodstained hands. “I can’t get her blood off of me.”

“Whose?”

“Mama’s,” he whispers, still staring at his hands.

Henry rarely ever talks about his mom, if ever. I have no clue what happened to her, but from the bits and pieces I’ve gathered over time, I know hers wasn’t a peaceful death, and I know Henry was there to witness it.

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