The Hitman's Last Job

The tragedy of the situation did not elude her though, since her freedom came at the price of her father’s death. Thinking of him dead, she didn’t know how to feel about it. Part of her wanted to cry because….he was her father. He raised her, clothed her, fed her and gave her a life. Granted it wasn’t a life she wanted, but it was hers, and now that he was gone she could do anything with it.

Her mind wandered to the mysterious man who kidnapped her. Her feelings for him were conflicted too. She wanted to hate him, to feel distraught and angry. She knew that other girls in her position would try to escape but something inside Anna didn’t want to. She felt safe somehow and wanted to at least say thank you to him, to explain that in a way, she felt rescued. She pondered on why he didn’t kill her. Maybe he was sent by a stranger to kill her father and rescue her? The thought optimistically hung in her mind before she dismissed it as fantastical.

Her Dad was a notorious scumbag but no one knew about the things he did to her. She saw the way people looked at her though. They knew something was wrong but they could never have guessed the lengths of depravity her father would go to for immediate gratification. She flung herself back in between the pillows and relished the thought of never being hit again, of never having to be pinned down into the bed and have her legs forced apart. She’d never smell that rancid stench that came from his unwashed body and she’d never feel that dirty way again. Anna thought back to all those times she’d put a capful of bleach into the bath water and how she’d smell her clothes over and over again and each time they only seemed to smell dirtier.

She looked over to the doorway of the bathroom and thought about taking a shower. It would be the first time she had bathed privately in her whole life. Her father always made her keep the door open but now she’d be able to finally enjoy the warmth of the water on her skin like the way she was supposed to. She leapt up with a sense of joy in her heart. It was amazing what little acts of freedom could do to you.

She walked into the bathroom she saw that there was no lock. She hesitated for a second worried her captor would come back at any moment and find her naked. But then she reasoned that he could have raped her in her own bed back home if he wanted to. He could have taken advantage of her when she was tied up but he chose to sleep upright in a rickety chair instead of sharing a bed with her. Something in her gut told her she was safe. She pulled off her coat and turned on the hot water.


CHAPTER 4

Carl pulled into the diner and saw a familiar vehicle. It was Lucas’ Dodge Viper, it had to be. No one else around here gave much love to that ostentatious shade of yellow. As he parked nearby he saw him, one of the Don’s cronies. He was leaving the diner with a coffee, a donut and that smirk of satisfaction he never washed off. Despite the fact that Carl tried to stay hidden Lucas noticed him immediately!

“Carl! Buddy, how’s it goin?”
“Good….yeah…. Good,”
“Hey, you don’t look so great. Rough night?” he asked before realizing what he said. “Oh yeah! Of course! That hit over on the south side. That god damn rat bastard Tommy, it was comin’ to him alright,” Lucas chewed on his donut for a moment in thought. “Say, let me get ya breakfast,”
“Oh…No it’s cool… thanks. I can’t stay long,”


Lucas eyed him for a second. “Well at least let me walk you in,”

“Ok,” Carl relented.


Maybe he was being paranoid but he couldn’t shake the feeling this young associate of the Don was trying to keep an eye on him. They walked into the simple diner and Carl ordered two breakfasts and two coffees. The men sat in a nearby booth while they waited.

“So…. Was it messy?” Lucas asked while sipping on his coffee. “I mean like… loadsa blood?” He was speaking so glibly he could have been talking about baseball or making an omelette.
“It was yeah… But nothing too bad,” Carl thought back to the incident and was disgusted with himself for realizing that he couldn’t actually remember what Thomas Martin’s body looked like after he shot him in the head. He’d been too preoccupied with the girl…and too used to the job.
“And his daughter? Such a shame she had to go too,”
“Yuh… It’s always bad when it’s a lady,” Carl tried to talk calmly.
“Sure is,”
“But seriously that Tommy,” Lucas swallowed the last bite of his donut and licked his fingers. “Was a real lowlife… a proper cunt,”
“I can’t say I knew him,”
“Well ain’t that a blessing,” Lucas laughed.

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