KILL SHOT

5. Six

Fuck.
I slam my door shut, not knowing how to calm my nerves.
I'm upset. I'm shit. FUCK!
I'm screwed up, I'm a loser. The worst human being ever, real piece of shit.

I dropped my guard, I dropped my killer mode and for what?
Befriend with an amazing woman, a gem, a treasure and finally hurt her.
The disappointment behind her murderous glare keeps stabbing my heart.

Idiot. You haven't got any. You're cold, methodical, ruthless. That's your strength, that's what makes you a trustful killer, the fucking best snipper of the country.

I throw a violent punch in the boxing bag. Fuck!
Now, I've got a weakness. Nicky is my weakness.
She made me talk, she made me laugh, she made me want more. She made me a cute and funny guy.
I found out I had a soft side, I didn't know I was able to care about someone, I even didn't know I could use words like cute, gem or please.
I didn't know I had that pussy inside me, that would appreciate paintings, .
flowers or good company. That would be able to comfort her.

She has changed me in less than a fucking day. And I still can't hate her for that, I can't even blame her, I don't want to. And I actually like being that guy.
I like being with her.

I shake my head. That's non sense.
I'm smarter than that. I won't lower myself to that level, amongst the assholes and cunts. I kill assholes and cunts.

FUCK!
I kick the punching bag until my leg hurts.
What happened to me? What the fuck has she done to me?

Put yourself together Charlie, get her out of your head and return to your old self. It's easier not to feel.

First things first. Take off that second skin, get rid of what's left of that guy, that nice guy. Ew!

The long shower is not enough. I feel a little better and that's not good because I still feel.
I try to resume my daily routine, the guns, the gym, but I'm still pissed and I can't stay focus, Nicky's smile flashes behind my lids, her thighs, her hair, her scent. The fear in her eyes because of me. She had thought for a second I was him.

FUCK!
I grab my bag and rush out of here. This place is toxic, I need fresh air.
The shooting range sounds perfect. Plus I have a job to do.

***

I come back hours later, cold and calm. I did a good job, I left subtle evidences behind me, all leading to James Barr, as planned.

My mood is neutral, but it doesn't last long. At my door are pinned two pink post-it's with that curved female handwriting.

"I can't explain this" says the first, a down arrow leans to the other.
"I miss you" makes my heart flinch.
Shit.

Stroking the last one like it was her soft skin, I feel the thin barrier it took me the whole day to built around my fucking heart crumble.
Damn you, you're hooked and that can' t be good.

***

Knock, knock

It took me another hour to figure out a way to handle all this. Her, me, my fucking job. I came to a few conclusions: first, as hard as I try, I can't take her out of my head. Second: I just can't. Third: I don't want to.
I decided to let it be and just see what would happen. I hate to play it by ear, but I'm supposed to be smart, I'll decide when the Zec will call me back. Plus I'll be busy with the Plan, it'll be so easy to forget about her.

The door opens behind me, I have turned around so she faces my back, my arms crossed behind my butt, a brown bag from "Thaï me" in hand. She told me yesterday it was her favorite food and I order all what she may like.
The Asian waiter actually spoke our language perfectly, being American for 3 generations helped. It's crazy all that you can learn by just making the conversation.