Page 76 of Targeted By Vengeance

“Oh, baby, I’m so sorry.”

“We’ll need to drive to Pittsburgh in the morning. Make arrangements for cremation.”

Simone grasped my chin and turned my head towards her. “Is it too soon to ask how you’re doing?”

“Yeah. Ask me tomorrow night.”

She rubbed my back. “Okay. Let’s get you back to bed.”

I let her lead me back to the bedroom, but I couldn’t fall asleep once my body hit the mattress.

After all the people I’ve lost in my life, I thought grief would be easy by now. I’ve learned to welcome the heaviness in my chest and the burn in my throat. Yet, even with open doors, they still raced inside with hammers and knives, determined to tear every inch of my walls down.

The only difference now was no tears accompanied the pain. Those dried up not too long after Ares took me in. One of my first lessons was that emotions were an assassin’s worst weakness. Getting attached or invested in a target or a job was essentially a death sentence. So, it was best to put all of them in a box and lock them away in the deepest depths of your psyche.

Easier said than done, of course - especially at my young age. I barely knew how to cope with my emotions, much less suppress them.

Ares taught me how to compartmentalize after the first kills. He usually made me sit in a dark room alone or take solo walks, telling me it was the only time I’d get to sit with my emotions. Once he opened the door or I returned to the house, all of it needed to be flushed from my brain. It wasn’t long before I didn’t need alone time at all. It just came naturally.

Grief was no different. Although I felt the agony of the weight on my shoulders, I didn’t let it bother me. I couldn’t. Not when the weight of my new responsibilities were heavier.

Maria didn’t even blink when I told her the news in the morning. She just nodded, eyeing the frown on my lips. I’m sorry, She signed. I know he meant something to you.

“It’s fine,” I replied with a shrug. “It was about time he retired, anyway. He was getting too old for this shit.”

She smiled. And let me guess: he handed you the mantle.

“Yeah, don’t remind me.”

On the drive up to Pittsburgh, Simone handled the calls to the funeral home while I drove. Neither of the women wanted me driving, but I needed the distraction. I didn’t really want to sit with my thoughts right now.

At the hospital, the charge nurse handed me the bag of the personal items Ares arrived with. The only thing inside was a wallet, thick with contents I’d sort through later.

“Would you like to see him?” She asked.

Not really, the words almost came out of my mouth. I had to remind myself of the role I was playing. Just because I didn’t want to see another dead mentor didn’t mean the grieving son wouldn’t want to see his loving father. Feigning a mournful frown, I gave a slow nod.

She led me across the hall of the emergency department towards a small, quiet room. Inside, Ares’s body lay still on a cot with a fresh gown and blanket over him. One arm was tucked inside and the other wasn’t. His eyes were closed as if he were sleeping, but his chest wasn’t moving. A cloak of paleness was draped over his skin, what little color he had stripped from him.

“Did he feel any pain?” I asked the nurse.

“Yes,” she admitted. “But I don’t believe it was for long.”

I nodded.

“Would you like a minute alone with him?”

“Yes, please. Thank you.”

I waited until I heard the click of the door to walk towards him. I sat in the chair beside his untucked hand. Closing my eyes, I folded my hands against my lips and murmured a short prayer. One my mother used to say with me before bed every night.

I didn’t know if it’d do any good for him considering all the sins he’d committed in his life, but I hoped it’d bring his soul some comfort.

If not, at least it bought some to mine.

THE AGENT

Mateo isn’t a man of many words, but I’ve never seen him this quiet before.