Bitter

Chapter Six

 "New target. I booked you a flight to NYC tonight. The target is Amahle Nkosi. South African diamond dealer. Bad dude. Staying at the hotel on the corner of 27th and Newman."

"Any preferred method?" she asked.

"Dealers choice. Just get it done." he replied before hanging up the phone. She immediately went to the balcony, setting down her phone, removing the sim card, and stomping. She dusted the remains into the street before retreating inside.

Grabbing her computer she looked up the hotel. The Ritz Carlton. This motherfuckers rich. Let's see what dirty little secrets got you killed. It was frowned upon in the business but it helped her sleep on the nights when pills couldn't help.

*

Jesus Christ. This is one bad dude. She stepped out of the airport looking through the tinted sunglasses at the busy pick up line. Looking up the line to her right she saw a fleet of black SUVs picking up one very unforgettable man. She had been thinking about their kiss in the alley. She wondered if he had to. After hailing a taxi she found his contact in her phone and rang it.

"Spence?"

"Oh my god. It's you. How are you? Where are you? Wait, shit you can't tell me that."

"No, no, I can. Because either I'm going blind or I just saw you in the airport. Are you in New York?

"Uh yeah I am, wait, are you in New York?" he asked

"Yeah I am. This is crazy!" she exclaimed, the taxi driver giving her a weird look.

"Do you want to meet up?

"Definitely. Meet me at the corner of 27th and Newman, dress for a date." she replied. She was happy to see him, and maybe she could start phase two of her plan.

*

She stood watching him from afar for a few minutes before walking up and punching him in the shoulder. She looked up at his and had to stop herself for saying something sweet. Because she wasn't sweet. She was bitter, she thought, subconsciously rubbing the faint marks on her wrist, a constant reminder of what she went through.

"Come on dumbass I have to start the prep work."

"What?" he asked.

"Just hold my arm and act like a couple. Put this on too." she handed him a wedding ring, matching the one on her finger. She looped her arm through his and strolled into the hotel, laughing and biting her lip.

"Follow me and act happy darling." she commanded.

"Of course, honey."

She leaned on him, her arm around his waist. She had looked up the most dynamic couple poses and this was one of the top ranked. She led him into the elevator, and then to floor seventeen room 527. She spun out of his arms, she didn't realize he was still holding her. It felt natural, and safe. Pressing her back pocket against the door she let them into the room.

She pulled the bouquet of fresh daisies she had purchased that afternoon out of her bag. They had started to wilt, but that made it all the better.

"What are those for?

She didn't respond. Just leaned over and blew out the candle burning on the dresser.

"I hate cinnamon." she said, her face distorted in disgust.

"What are we doing here?" he always looked so cute when he was confused, and she confused him a lot so it was fine with her.

"Setting up for a hit." she replied nonchalantly.

"What?"

"You heard me. Setting up for a hit. Can you fill this up?" she handed him a vase she had pulled out of the cupboard. She bent over to wipe her prints from the handle, she could feel his eyes staring at her behind. She wanted to see him flustered again so she snapped up and turned to face him.

"Eyes to yourself asshole."

"Who are you killing? What did they do?" He looked concerned. She wasn't surprised by his empathy. So she decided to let him be okay with the fact he would help her kill a man.

"Amahle Nkosi. South African diamond dealer. I'm not paid to care about it, but I looked into him. Horrible guy. Basically slave labour."

"Okay, but why the daisies?"

She looked at him, mouth open in shock. "What's the one thing in common with all my crimes?" she looked at him not bothering to wait for an answer. "Daisies. I did it when I was younger because it was my favorite flower, I do it out of tradition now. I grew out of that phase and more into my name."

"What's your name?"

She looked at him, silently praying for something to happen so she didn't have to tell him. It wasn't that she didn't like her name, she did. She thought it suited her. It was more that her being the nameless woman allowed her more power over his mind.

Her prayers were answered when she heard footsteps. Ushering him behind the sheer curtains on the balcony she peered into the room.

He looked about 5'10 with a potbelly. His skin was pale and flushed. She held in a giggle as he removed his toupee. She looked at Spencer and mouthed 'stay' before silently creeping into the bathroom behind him.

TRIGGER WARNING HERE (vauge mention of suicide)

The bathroom was all white, she thought about having him kill himself in the tub.

"Strippergram Mr. Nkosi." she said in her most seductive voice.

"Dear lord! You scared me, miss! Who from?"

"The people you work like dogs. This is how this is gonna work." she stepped aside as he dove for the door. She smiled as he jiggled it, trying to break free from his fate.

She listed his crimes. This was an interesting job, mostly for the fact that she thought a human rights group had hired her. The irony. A human rights group hiring an assassin to kill a man they couldn't arrest.

"Please, whatever they're paying you I'll give you double!"

"I don't want your dirty money. And I doubt you could pay me that much." She opened the door, her gun pressed to the back of his head. She pushed him to the balcony. She turned to Spencer and leaned in and whispered in his ear "Tell him to jump. And then try to tell me you didn't feel a rush." he stared at her like she had a balloon for a head. She must've thought he was taking too long because she told him to, and he did.

"Now hurry home little piggy."

"No."

That was the moment she knew she had him. He had watched her kill a man, and still stayed. Her phone rang and she went on to the balcony to answer it. It was Terrence. Holding the phone to her ear as she looked over the rail at the man's body she greeted him.

"Hello Terrence."

"What the fuck did you do? I'm wiping the footage and you walked in with a guy! Is that the fucking FBI agent?"

"Jesus, Terrence relax."

"I will not relax! You brought a FBI agent to a job! That is not how this world works. You can't do things like this!" he screamed into the phone, she had to pull her head away from the volume.

"This is how the world works. Now all he thinks about is me. How good would it be to have someone like him on the team! I read the books, tonight has created a bond between me and death in his head. With his job all he thinks about is me. He won't tell. I'll make sure of it. I'll seal the deal Terrence."

"You better be right."

Click.