“All good.”
Leaving his place, I felt confident about the help I was getting. It didn’t feel like it would be tied to any expectations. A part of me felt like even if it was, it wouldn’t be something I’d be against.
CHAPTER 8
A Hitta’s Heart
Isat on the counter in the kitchen of my soon to be victim’s home, dressed in all black, playing Solitaire like I had a right to be here. I’d played two games and had won both, so I was feeling patient, unlike the other times when I went on a hit. Time didn’t move the same when you were waiting to cut someone’s lifespan short. The irony of it all was the wait felt similar to the time it took for someone to be brought into the world. When I got this job, I knew I had to make a home visit.
The inside of the house told a whole different story than what I was provided on paper. Inside, there were family portraits on the walls in the hallway and above the fireplace in his great room. There were Christmas cards from his kids held up by magnets and kid’s drawings that displayed their artistry.
I heard the front door open, followed by footsteps and the victim humming what sounded like a Christmas song off-key. I always found it irresponsible the way people with money didn’t invest in high level security alarms to ensure their family’s safety. This guy had no security in place. Good for me. A lesson he wouldn’t live to learn for him. Hearing his footsteps coming my way, I tucked my phone in my hoodie and looked up in the darkness.
When the light flickered on, he froze, seeing me casually seated on his kitchen countertop.
“You know,” I started to speak, “judging from the family portraits around here, one wouldn’t peg you as a weirdo who took stuff that doesn’t belong to them.”
His mouth opened and closed in shock. I watched as his eyes darted toward the hallway, likely trying to figure out how he could escape.
“Who the fuck are you, and how’d you get in my house?!” His tone was elevated but came out bitchier than I was sure he intended it to.
I hopped down off the counter. “They call me Ezzy,” I answered. “Some call me the red beam guy. Some refer to me as the one who shows up when all options have been exhausted.” I took a step toward him. “That’s the current case with you.”
He went to take a step back, and I pulled my gun, pointing it at his head.
“You’ve been arrested for rape a few times,” I continued in an even tone. “But somehow, the charges never stick.”
His face twisted. “I don’t know what the fu…”
“Luckily,” I cut in, “for your last victim, these bullets will.”
Lowering the gun, I hit him seven times in the chest as per the contract’s orders. Each bullet landed with precision and intention.
Seven women.
Seven families lives altered.
Seven bullets were fitting.
After the deed was done, I cleaned up behind myself. I wiped down surfaces and checked corners before walking out the same way I came in – through the front door. The cool air hit me, as I stepped outside. On the way to my car, I sent the confirmation message.
Me: It’s done. Push the remainder.
Getting into my car, I pulled off my hospital booties that covered my boots and tossed them into a shopping bag that sat in the passenger seat. After making my usual stop, I hopped on the highway to head home. As I drove, Thyri crossed my mind. It had been two days since she’d left the house, and EJ had been asking for her like she was a part of his daily schedule. Knowing the urgency of the situation with her father, I didn’t rush her return. I knew that getting him settled was her main focus. With her fresh on my mind, I decided to give her a call.
She answered on the second ring.“You’re going to live a long time,”she said. “I was just thinking about calling you.”
“Oh, word?”
“Yeah. I wanted to check on EJ.”
“Crazy you say that because he’s been looking for you. You made a great first impression. Now he’s been waking up and checking the room you slept in like you’re his human elf on the shelf.”
She laughed.“Awww. I’ma come by and see him.”
“How’s your dad?”
“He’s good.”She released a sigh of relief.“He’s settling in at Sullivan. I mean, they were on it as soon as transportation brought him. And guess what – your aunt and my father know each other from back in the day. Apparently, they were a thing in high school. Like a big thing. He even recognized her when he saw her. Called her Sweetie. I guess it’s a nickname he had for her back then. She’s been really accommodating. Even helping me put together a complaint on Parker Jewish.”
