Hit List

forty eight | coffee

"He wanted you back?" I ask.

"Geez, if I had a penny for every time I couldn't give to fucks about it," Sienna, my new possible friend, says.

We sit in a red booth with cups of coffee warming our hands.

"Did you not love him?" I swish my coffee around my cup, waiting for it to get cold. Warm aromas of coffee and pastries fill the café.

"I did." She sighs and places her coffee down. Her eyes continuously scan the area, as if she is waiting for someone to suddenly show up. "He was dangerous, in the best way, and we had a lot of fun together. But it was his choice. He ended it. We all have to live with our choices. Don't give a shit if he wanted me back. He chose to let me go."

"How do you do that? Push someone away, even when you care about them?" I've been trying. Unsuccessfully.

"It's not hard. You just find better. If you think he's funny, find someone funnier and fuck them."

Oh. "Well, that's one way to do it . . ."

She chuckles at my expression. "If you don't want to do that, just have boundaries. Don't let them too close. The closer they get, the harder it becomes."

"What if I'm already in too deep? About six feet under." Because if I am being completely honest, I know that I wouldn't be able to let go of Elijah. His hugs make each day a little bit more tolerable.

"Cut him out of your life immediately. It's hard at first until you realise you can still enjoy life without them."

But I've lived my life without Elijah. It was lonely. And boring. "So cut him off, then find someone better and fuck them?" Sounds easy enough . . .

"I should be a mentor." She sips her coffee, with a satisfied look on her face. "Who is the mystery man?"

I bite my lip. While I want this friendship to be real and genuine, I can't trust her yet. As someone in my profession, I have to be cautious. "Who is yours?"

She grins. "His name is Mateo."

"Mateo?" I parrot. Parroting is a conversation technique that gets people to continue speaking without having to ask any actual questions.

Her eyes become starry. "When you begin to fall in love with the small things—the repeated face kisses, the hand holding in supermarkets—it makes the world so beautiful. By god, he made the world magnificent."

"You still love him."

"Was that a question?"

"No."

She bites the inside of her cheek and glances around the coffee shops once more. "It's complicated."

"That I can sympathise with."

She grins and leans forward on her palm. "Care to explain?"

I let out a sound of frustration. "He likes me, and I like him, but there's something he doesn't know that might change the way he feels about me."

"Does he really like you if one thing will change his feelings for you?"

This is a big thing. "Yeah, he does." I have no doubt about that.

She shrugs. "Let's just move across the world and avoid the male species all together."

Avoiding my past, and my problems, would be the easiest thing. But if I leave, Antonio will undoubtedly kill Elijah. In a torturous way.

Speak of the devil. Antonio strides into the cafe. His eyes are focused on me, but he doesn't approach. Is he tracking my phone? How the hell did he find me?

Sienna follows my gaze. Noticing our eye contact, she says, "Is that him? He
. . . ain't what I imagined."

I turn to her, chewing on my lip. "I'll be back in a minute, alright?"

"Sure, but don't let your coffee cool too much."

Sliding out of the booth, I keep my eyes on Antonio as I walk outside. My gaze sweeps over the small parking lot, assessing if there are any bystanders.

I don't know whether to be scared or relieved that there aren't.

Antonio wouldn't kill me. He knows that I am a useful asset—or a great killer, to be more precise. He wouldn't get rid of me, but that doesn't mean he wouldn't harm me or make my life a living hell.

"What is your plan?" Antonio asks, coming to stand beside me. He is clad in dark clothing, as if ready to blend into the shadows at any time.

His entire demeanour screams power. It makes me wonder what he does in his spare time, when he isn't commanding other people to kill for him.

"What is yours?" I turn to him, using my hand to block my eyes from the sun. "How did you find me?"

His gaze trails over me. "I always keep track of my pawns." Smoothing a hand over his greasy dark hair, he adds, "Now answer me."

I wrap my arms around myself. I never consider myself powerless. Even when I was broke and had no money to pay for university fees.

But whenever I am around Antonio, I feel like I have no control over who I am and what I am doing. Even now, when I am wishing to be a better person, he is pulling me down.

"I know you don't think I am going to kill him, but I will." A lie. "I'll admit I made it complicated because now his friends know me, so I need to kill him in a unsuspicious way. But I still have some time. I'll get it done."

"No, you do not have 'some time'." His eyes narrow. "I'm waiting. I'll be on your case. I am going to keep pressuring you until you've completed what I have asked." Stepping back, he says, "Don't let your guard down. I'm keeping an eye on you."

I never keep my guard down. Except, maybe, around one sweet, dark-haired guy.

•<•>•

Hmmm... I'm thinking about how I want to end the book. Mwaha.
Mwahaha.
Mwahahahaha.
(Ignore the evil laugh cause I'm still deciding)

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