Pointed Gun

Congratulations.

Boston

"YOU SURE you want to go through with this plan?" Ryder approached me at the table where I sat and thought with many questions. Looking over my shoulder, he added to what he was yapping on about when I didn't answer. "You know you just love changing your mind a lot. How do we know this won't be one of those times?"

It felt like I was hearing those exact words every single day since I mapped the plan to the very last detail. Many questioning all of my decisions lately because they assumed they were just too irrational. But, if they'd come to know me as much as they had wished, they would notice that I didn't like backing down from a well thought out challenge. I was incredibly smart when it came to my line of work. There was nothing I took more seriously.

Besides, the people that I had worked alongside for many years should've known me better by now than to ask such idiotic questions. Whatever I said, went. No matter how irrational I might've sounded. I wanted it, so I got it. Someone wanted someone else gone, I made them disappear. Though, as of lately—and with some serious persuading—, I was taking those exact questions into some heavy consideration.

I did change my mind a lot, I knew that much. It was a terrible trait of mine, to say the least. Just when things never occurred according to plan, or I continued to be disappointed with everyone else's ideas, I changed them and changed them until it was perfect. And in that case, the plan was shiting on perfect.

"I'm positive about this one." I said with no farther need for validation. Neither of us uttered another word. So, to absorb the extra time, Ryder observed from over my shoulder as I clicked through the pictures and website that quenched my thirst for some valuable information.

"That's her?" Ryder's finger pointed over my shoulder at the picture displayed on my laptop screen. I gave him a quick nod in place of my answer. "I see why you chose her. She's gorgeous."

In the photo, she stood beside who I would believe to be her coworkers with silly poses and beaming grins matched with crazy face paint. The impression of some kind of Halloween party became clear as their choices of attire weren't exactly reaching for professional. Nothing too skimpy on her part though. I was proud. She'd opted for a semi-matching superhero's costume with an equally beautiful woman standing excitedly beside her. Both of the same smooth bronze skin tone and curly black hair reaching just about the tops of their shoulders, resembling a voluminous mane. They must have been close friends or even sisters by the striking resemblance.

"Who's that standing beside her?" His voice again steadied my thoughts. I blinked myself out of a trance, double-clicking on the images to get a closer look at the two together. She wasn't the least bit recognizable from my viewpoint, however, with a little more digging, she could be.

"I'm not sure. But, I'm guessing they're friends by how close their costumes are." I said, zooming back out to get another full view of the entire picture.

"You're positive you don't want them both? I'll help." Ryder suggested. But hell was it a horrible idea.

"What kind of sick bastard do you take me for?" I scoffed.

"A contagious one?" He scrunched his nose in a fashion that irritated my soul.

Asshole. Always taking my seriousness for a game. "I'm not trying to run a daycare service, Ryder." I clicked off the browser, pushing back in my seat.