Page 32 of Assassin Anonymous

Billy’s grip goes slack and he drops me to the floor, my head bouncing off the carpet again. He scrambles off me, backing himself into a corner like a frightened animal, looking for an exit, but afraid to try to pass me to get to the door. I get to my knees and feel along the ridges of my broken nose, then bear down and push it back into place, crying out as bone scrapes cartilage.

“You…” he says. “You…”

“Yeah,” I tell him, breathing through the pain. “That’s me. So, anyway, can I finish saying what I have to say?”

Billy looks at me with complete and utter confusion. He moves to his chair and sits, holding his head in his hands.

He thinks he’s going to die.

God, the power this holds over people.

The power I hold.

No. Not anymore. Don’t think like that.

I sit on the chair across from him, my face aching, and say, “Your dad was part of a crew protecting a guy trying to sell dangerous intelligence to dangerous people. I broke his neck. I thought I was saving the world and used that as an excuse to end his life. I can’t sit here and say I wish I could do it differently. I’m not sure that I do. What I can tell you is that I’m sorry for whatever hurt that put on you. I can’t make it up to you. Killing me won’t bring him back and I promise, it won’t make you feel better. But you need to do what you need to do.”

“You…you’re the Pale Horse,” he says, still not looking at me.

“We established that, yes.”

“So…” He finally makes eye contact, and his face bursts into a broad smile. “I just kicked the shit out of the Pale Horse.”

That, I was not expecting. “Sure, if you want to call it that.”

He claps his hands and gets up, pumping his fists as he jumps around the desk. “And my dad was killed by the Pale Horse! Do you know what this is going to do for my reputation?”

It’s so absurd I want to laugh. He crosses the room to a mini fridge and pulls out two bottles of Tiger beer. He uncaps them and places one of them in front of me.

“And now I’m having a drink with the Pale Horse,” he says, shaking his head and taking a sip. “The Pale Horse. You’re a legend.” He looks me up and down. “Thought you’d be taller. More built, though. Like Jason Statham.”

I suppress the sigh, pick up the bottle, and take a swig. The beer is ice-cold and takes a little edge off the pummeling I just took.

Billy takes a long pull and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “Look, man, I didn’t really like my dad. He wasn’t good to my mom. He pretty much abandoned us. I guess in the moment…” He goes searching for what he wants to say, staring off into the distance, before snapping back. “I figured I should hurt you because that’s how it’s supposed to be, right? But I guess I’m just more amazed that you’re here.”

The god in me is the thing that saved me.

This is terrible for my recovery.

“Revenge never ends up feeling the way you think it will,” I tell him. “It sounds great until you have to sit with it. I know that just sounds like me arguing in favor of my life, but that’s what I’ve come to learn.”

He eyes me as he takes another long pull from the bottle.

“I don’t know that it’s worth killing you,” he says. “For the mess alone.”

He’s getting bold now. I have to give him a little credit for that.

“That’s very magnanimous of you,” I tell him.

“Magnanimous?”

“Kind.”

He nods. “So what now?”

“You have a story to tell. Enjoy it for whatever it’s worth. If you’re really not going to shoot me in the face, I guess my next step is figuring out how to get out of this country alive.”

He gives me a quizzical look and I shrug.

---