Page 8 of Burn for Me

Two muscle-clad heavies stood by the front doors of the pretty, if soulless-looking, new-built mansion. The driveway and surrounding lawns were almost too perfect. Not a single blade of grass dared stand out of place. Cold air whispered over my ass where I’d grown sweaty against the bike. The journey had me wiped before I’d even started the job.

Balancing my helmet on the saddle of my bike, I ran a hand through my sticky hair and down over my masked lower face. My skin itched to feel the cold air on it, but it wouldn’t happen until I was back safe on my boat, miles from civilisation.

One man came towards me as I pulled my gas mask and supplies from my backpack.

When I glanced up at him, he startled, before coming to a halt.

‘Mister Ricci is inside.’

I nodded once before continuing to prepare for the incoming blaze.

My gas mask fitted neatly over my face, and I pulled the rear straps until it fit tightly against my skin, making a seal to protect me from the destruction I brought.

Massimo Ricci lounged back on a dining room chair, his feet up on the table while he sipped at a cup of tea.

He didn’t look up when I walked into the room, just kept on drinking.

The wall to my left was awash with sopping pink globs ofbrain and bright red droplets of blood. A blonde woman lay slumped forward on the table, a crimson puddle leaking from her concealed face and spread out halfway across the table. Massimo’s shiny black shoes sat crossed just beyond where the red trail ended.

A younger adult male’s body hung off of another ornate dining chair, his skull half caved in at the temple.

The one I presumed to be the head of the family—a squat, mousey, brown-haired fellow—had made it almost out of the dining room before being taken out. His fingers remained clenched around the stock of his gun. He’d tried to fight for his family, at least.

Massimo had said four bodies.

Looking around, I failed to spot the fourth.

‘Last one’s upstairs,’ Massimo said, standing and finally setting his stony stare on me. ‘I trust you’ll make sure no-one can tell what happened here?’

I gave him a nod.

I knew perfectly well how to do my job. People didn’t hand over wads of cash to an amateur.

‘Right. Well, I need to head off to my engagement party and make it appear as if my fiancee stood me up.’ My skin bristled at the unwelcome touch. Clenching my hand into a fist, I waited for the front door to close behind him.

The three of them climbed into a black car and drove slowly down the long, winding driveway.

The home’s interior was like a mausoleum. Everything was solid white, bar the great red sprays of blood that decorated the dining room. Hitting a light switch did nothing. The power was cut. Likely Massimo’s crew to disable any cameras or alarms.

Saved me a job. I didn’t need built-in smoke alarms to bring the fire crews too quickly.

Working methodically, I spread the accelerant through the home, opening the windows and doors while humming softly to myself. I always hummed when no-one was around, hoping the muffled noises might stop my vocal chords from atrophying from lack of use.

Not that I’d likely ever need them again.

Taking the stairs, I worked the accelerant up their glossy wooden bannisters, heading into room after plush room.

Clothes lay crumpled on the floor in one room, while another was perfectly neat. Expensive creams and perfumes lined the counters in an adjoining bathroom, while designer clothes stocked the walk-in wardrobe.

The waste always pained me.

Taking anything would provide a solid lead back to me, so I stuck to the plan.

Prepare. Burn. Leave.

A perfect plan that, in over a decade of working for myself, had never failed me.

Only one room was left on the upper floor, and I walked in, wondering if the final body Massimo had mentioned would be there. The room was feminine and pretty, with matching cases lined up at the foot of the bed. I guessed their owners’ vacation had been cut real short.

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