Page 31 of Sweet Lies

“Yes. Let’s get this started. The sooner we start, the faster it will be done.”

He chuckles. “There’s the old Rossi spirit,” he says, putting one of the guns behind his back and a knife in his shoe.

Our journey through the hotel and out to the rental car is silent.

“Are you having second thoughts?” I ask, worried about his answer. I can’t have this taken away from me—not now.

“No. Just thinking,” he answers quickly, pulling his seat belt on and turning up the music.

“What does a hitman think about?” I ask.

“Oh, you know, the Pythagorean theorem along with a little climate change. Some good chem thrown in there. What do you think I’m thinking? I looked into the names you gave me and I’m trying to decide the best place to start after we finish your training.”

“Oh,” I answer, unsure what else to say.

“Ohis right. Do you have a place you want to start or end?”

The faces flash before me, and I push them away. “I’ll think about it. I’m not sure right now.”

“Well, you think of that, and I’ll go over my chemistry equations.” He smiles, looking ahead.

“Smartass,” I mutter, changing the song.

He grins, and butterflies explode in my belly.

He was right; I need to put some kind of plan together. But there are so many ways I could look at it. Too many choices. I could start with the worst and finish with the ones that showed a measure of kindness, or save the worst for the end. Maybe I’ll make a spreadsheet. That would drive Andre nuts. Though it may just be worth it for that.

“What are you smiling about?” he asks.

“Oh, nothing.” I laugh. “Just thinking about the day.”

“Why does that scare me?” he grunts as we pull into the gun range.

Once more, he’s silent as he passes others practicing till he finds a more private spot. The large outline of a figure mocks me from across the range—taunting me as if to sayyou could never do this for real.

Stepping back, I bump into Andre; I didn’t realize how close he was. His hands grip my arms, holding me in place as if he senses my wavering strength. I know he’d release me if I pushed the subject, but this was a moment I got to choose for myself.

Do I decide to change and take back my life?

Closing my eyes, I think back to my earliest memories. I can smell my mother’s perfume of lilacs, hear my brother’s laughter, and taste Claire’s baking, feel the touch of their hugs as their arms wrap around me and hold me tight, as if to keep the rest of the world at bay.

Then I hear the never-ending sound of the explosion. Glass shattering. Wood and metal becoming nothing in an instant. The screams that burned my throat. I feel my nails breaking off in my attempts to get out of the trunk. Then I see the men.

Before their faces can fully invade my senses, I open my eyes and make a choice—a choice for me. Stepping forward, I grip the gun in my hand, pulling the trigger again and again in quick succession, hitting the target first in the head and then the heart with perfect aim. Some things you never forget.

Turning my head around, I meet Andre’s stunned face.

“Just because I was the kind one doesn’t mean I’m not a quick study,” I say wickedly, enjoying the feeling of power the gun brought me. His laugh reaches my ears just as I turn to aim once more.

We spend hours at the gun range, practicing with different guns. It seems to be never-ending, and my arm and hand are getting sore.

When Andre is satisfied with my progress, we leave, but we don’t return to the hotel, to my surprise. Instead, we go to a nearby gym.

“What are we doing here?” I ask.

“You need to build more strength and practice hand to hand. This is as good a place as any to start.”

His tone leaves no room for debate as much as I wish to argue. Instead, I follow closely behind him.

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