Page 3 of One Kill

Okay, I just need to assess the situation like any other and fix the problem. This is literally my job… assess and fix.

“Look, Kid, I know this must be hard to hear and I’m sure you did all this research that ended you up in this place…” I look around the diner. The odds of her landing in this place are slim, but hey, maybe she saw my blonde hair and thought, “Oh! That’s my long-lost mother.” Who the fuck knows? I’ve seen weirder shit in my life. “But I can assure you I’m not your mother.”

“That’s not what my dad said.” My back goes ramrod straight and my eyes quickly roam the diner once more, thinking maybe I’m being set up for something. Maybe this kid is a lure and I’m about to get a bullet in the head.

Fuck, I do not want to die in this place, on this day, of all fucking days.

I keep my calm once I take a good look around and find no plausible threats.

“And who, exactly, is your dad?” It’s my turn to lean back in the booth and cross my arms.

I don’t know what I’m expecting. Maybe she’s going to splutter some celebrity name or a dude she looked up on the internet or maybe—

“Murphy Gallagher.”

My ears are assaulted by a loud ringing, my mind swimming with reels and reels of memories flashing by as I try my damnedest not to react to the fucking nuclear bomb she just dropped on this mom-and-pop diner.

“That’s my dad. His friends call him Murph.” I can see her eyes searching my face, trying to find a reaction. She won’t because I’ve schooled my features into neutral nothingness, something I perfected before I even learned how to drive.

“He’s your age? Brown hair, brown eyes?” Her shoulders slump as her confidence dies a slow death and it’s killing me to be the one taking away her strength. “You were the love of his life.”

I don’t want to, and I fight it as hard as I can, but those last whispered words punch me in the lungs, forcing the breath I’ve been holding to rush out from between my lips.

“I knew it!”

“You don’t know shit, Kid.”

Her spirit and defiance back in full force, this kid—Hallie—sits a little taller, her chin a little higher, as her lips spread into a cocky little grin.

I haven’t heard Murph’s name in over a decade, not since I bolted from my house. I guessed he’d be pissed off that I took off without telling him but I knew I was in danger and putting him on my parents’ killer’s radar wasn’t an option. To save him, I had to become invisible. A shadow.

“I know that… one:”—she plants her elbow on the table, showing me her index finger as she counts—“you can’t deny biology.” That same finger points at my face then hers and I’m guessing the fact we do share some features is weird.

“I have blue eyes, smartass, so that’s not helping your point.” I raise a brow, taunting her, but she doesn’t waver.

“Dad has brown eyes, mine are hazel so a mix of you two.” Her grin grows and I want to laugh at her reborn assurance and that realization makes me pause for a second. Today is not a day where I can laugh, yet here is this complete stranger making me forget the most horrible memories of my life.

“That’s not how it works, you know…”

“Close enough.”

I shake my head because she’s obviously bull-headed and I’m too curious about her other points to stop her now.

“You ladies doing okay? Would you like something, miss?” Alma doesn’t show it much but she’s just as surprised to see someone sitting at the table with me as I am. I’ve been coming here as some kind of penance for the better half of my life, same day, all day. It’s my remembrance, my break from life and death. The day I allow myself to think about my parents, their death, so much death and blood, my vengeance. Every year is the same. Every year I eat, drink, think, in this very spot until I go back home and cry. Let it all out for the next three hundred and sixty-four days.

And yeah, I think about Murphy Gallagher. The way I abandoned him after… fuck. I can’t go there. Not right now. Not with my mind spinning with this weird situation.

This kid is fucking up my routine and I’m not even angry about it.

“Um…” Hallie’s gaze darts to me and for all her assurances, she suddenly looks so young without all the bravado. “I didn’t have this part planned.”

Cocking my head to the side, I realize that, in this moment, she was expecting me to shoo her off and now she’s just winging it.

“Get whatever you want.” I’m not going to let her starve or whatever.

“Just an orange juice, please.” I watch her as she orders. Her profile is so familiar and I can see the resemblance to Murphy. It’s in the plump lips and her big round eyes that can’t seem to hide an ounce of emotion.

“Sounds good, sweetie. Be right back.” Alma leaves, and when Hallie turns back to me she notices I’m staring at her.

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