Sinfully, Yours

Chapter 4- Against all odds

                                                                                        Elia 

I stared out of my car window at the empty burnt out warehouse behind the hospital. My wounds were not healed, the doctor was right about that but I couldn't afford to waste another day resting. We needed to get the hell out of here before the FBI can track us. It was really hard to bribe them. Though, there was just one more task needed to be finished and that's why we sat here waiting for it to get done. Getting a FBI agent off the trail, another uphill task. 

"Are you sure Nate hasn't reported anything yet?" I asked Mario. "If he has then we can't kill him. That will definitely put them on our trail," 

"I am positive," He muttered, lighting a cigar. "He had a hunch about us you know. I am assuming someone fed him information and I think you can guess who. So, Nate decided to investigate but to reach higher officials you need proof, that he doesn't have as of yet. And after tonight, he won't be needing to collect anything anymore," 

I eyed Mario and inwardly grimaced. Killing was a part of our job, that's who we were but unlike me, who was bounded by responsibilities and legacy, Mario actually liked killing people, which to me was totally sadistic. The taste of power was too overpowering for him and too important than anything else.

"Good," I muttered. 

"The doctor did you good," He commented. "Maybe we should smuggle her with us so that she can look after you?" He laughed hysterically at the comment and I rolled my eyes. 

"No need to drag her into any of this," I replied. "She has done her job, we can take it from there," 

"She was beautiful," He added after sometime. "Bellissima!" 

"Hmm," I muttered. "Concentrate on your job now, will you?" 

"Fine," He rolled his eyes. "Look, here he comes," 

We peeked out from the tinted windows and surely there came a guy, completely hooded and stopped just near our car. He looked all around him and then lighted a cigarette. 

"How did you lure him?" I demanded. 

"A couple thousand dollars to his partner," He answered plainly. "Always works," 

I stared at the guy and felt bad for him. Betrayal was one of the most woeful act a person could commit. Whatever you do, don't betray those who trust you. For me, that was unforgivable. 

"Wait here," Mario said, climbing out of the car. "We will get this job done," 

"Okay," I nodded, feeling grateful. I still felt sick and my wounds still hurt. The last thing I wanted for the next couple of months was to get shot again. Or stabbed for the matter. 

Snuggling down further into the plush seat, I closed my eyes feeling tired as hell. In the thirty years of my life there hardly has been peace. Ever. Watching dad when I was a child doing all this stuff seemed so much fun. Made him like a hero to me. Now, not so  much. 

Ten minutes later, I heard the gun go off, another highly familiar sound to my ears. The job was done and now I can finally go back home. I scoffed inwardly at the word. There was no home for me. Just a palatial place made of bricks and concrete. Home is where peace is. Home is where your family is and I had neither. Not metaphorically at least. In literal terms, I had a big family none of whom were mine own blood. It was just me, like always. 

"Sir?" One of our man peeked inside, looking grim. "We have a problem," 

Of course we do...When do we not have a problem?