The Right Man for the Job

Chapter 1

I'm late.

Lifting myself out of the hole, I walked back over to the car. Doing this now was much more of a hassle. Back in the day, I'd have someone else to help out with this part, or at least get some prep work done. Really, there was a dedicated place for this sort of thing.

But all that was in the past now. I knew that, but couldn't help complain from time to time, even if it was only to myself.

I leaned the shovel against the car and opened the trunk. There was what I came all the way out here to these abandoned woods for. With the heavy tarp-covered thing in my arms, I walked back over to the hole.

It's a weird idea, woods being abandoned. It'd be more accurate to say people just don't come around here. Not that I blamed them. Shady shit happened around these parts. Like what I'm just about finished doing.

With the tarp on the ground, I unraveled it. There he was. Some guy, dead, hole in the back of his head. With a push from my foot, his body fell into the hole.

The job wasn't hard. Compared to all the killing I've done in my life, this was actually pretty easy. It helped he didn't look over his shoulder all that much. Guess he thought he didn't make any enemies.

The last part was filling in the hole again, then covering it up. Like stated previously, there weren't going to be many people coming around here, but better safe than sorry. Though, it wasn't like the guy had any teeth left once I was done with him. No dental records for you, sir.

All the while, I kept glancing at my watch. Had I known it'd take this long, I'd have left earlier. That's just how these things go sometimes.

With the ground restored to normal, I put away the shovel and got back in my car. Gloves off, mask off, and hair freed. The face in the mirror was presentable enough, so I turned on the car and drove off. I got a cigarette going before reaching the main road and picked up speed.

Still, I was late.

This was a bit of a last-minute thing, the minute in question being a couple days. I could have refused the job, but the pay was good and the guy was an asshole, supposedly. I try not to pry. Being a hired killer meant I didn't have to care all that much about those details.

But that was beside the point. There was a reason I took that job, the same reason I took many jobs like that.

About 20 minutes later, I pulled up to the cute little Cape Cod house. It was always funny to me that this was the house they decided on. They could have gotten practically any house they wanted, but they chose a small, two-story house in the suburbs with plenty of similar houses nearby.

I got out of the car and straightened out my leather jacket. The only evidence of what I'd just done—aside from the gloves, mask, hat, and shovel still in the car—was the dried mud on my boots. Seeing as I occasionally helped out with their yard, that wouldn't raise any suspicion.

Even before I started walking up to the house, my presence was detected. A mop of brown hair peaked up over the windowsill, a matching pair of brown eyes looking my way before disappearing. With a smile, I reached the door and unlocked it. The second it opened...

"Dante!" I heard a moment before a small body jumped up at me.

"Whoa, Mary, don't scare me like that!" I admonished jokingly as I twirled the girl around in the air.

Mary, my niece and goddaughter, who was as wonderful today as she was when I first held her in my arms as a baby. Nine years old and brimming with energy.

"You're late." I heard from down the hall.

Gloria peaked her head around the corner. My sister in all but blood. She gave me a knowing smile as I set Mary down, which meant I probably had a goofy smile of my own. I really couldn't help it. I saw my sweet little niece several times a week and she's always happy to see me. So of course I have to return the sentiment, not that I wouldn't regardless.