The morning was cold. Too cold. I worry the city has forgotten what autumn means. I wrapped myself tighter in my sweater and tried to forget the early morning wind. I was sitting at my desk, drinking a vodka soda at 6am, contemplating the dregs of the universe when he walked in. All lean muscles and big hands. He was suave, raw power walking on two legs. But he had a troubled look in his eyes; like he’d seen his fair share of struggles on the wrong side of town. Any man knocking on my door at this hour wasn’t selling no good book; he was looking to unburden himself. And my door was always open for a man in need.
I invited him in but he just stood in the doorway with that dumb look and those sad eyes. He said he had a job for me; he’d take me to it right now. I’ve never been one to pass up a paycheque but god-forbid I walk off with some stranger without setting ground rules first.
What kind of girl do you take me for?
Who was I kidding? The man was sex on legs, I’d go anywhere with him. I set my price, I grabbed my weapon of choice, and we walked out the door together. I don’t think I ever asked his name.
He led me to a coffee house on the other side of town that smelt of caramel and old newspapers. This was the autumn smell I’d been missing. Too bad this place was where I’d meet my match. A job that I may never finish with a man who looked like my latest conquest.
He paid for my Americano and we sat in the corner facing the window. It started to rain. He told me a sob story about a girl who broke his heart and ran off with his best friend. I told him I didn’t care but I really did. What woman would walk away from an ass that fine?
So I was attracted to him. Didn’t mean I can’t do my job.
His foolish former lover worked across the street and I caught I glimpse of her through the fogging window; blonde, younger than him, and too thin to carry her own weight. A damsel in distress if I ever saw one, and I saw her; over and over again.
I saw her through the window as she busied herself with her last day on earth.
I saw her down the street as she got in a beat up old taxi and headed “anywhere but here”.
I saw her from the doorway of her apartment as I made my way inside.
I saw her eyes grow dark as the last light of life left those pretty blue orbs.
I saw her photo fall to the floor as I offered my client proof of kill.
He seemed…happy with my work.
Although my contract was up, I had to ask if he required my services any further – like any good business woman would. He responded by grabbing my waist and kissing me long and hard. He took me right there on my desk and I gave in to the thrill.
Now I may never be rid of that man.
Maybe I like it that way.
That was my morning.
James woke me up at 5am this morning for a little fantasy game where we killed the waitress across town getting off her night shift. I’m already at work, I’m exhausted, but so satisfied. That man’s mind just thrills me. Especially when I get to play a 1940s femme fatale in a knock out dress that he picked out for me.
He knows me so well, and he knows just what buttons to press every time.
It’s the one case I’ll never be able to shake.
As always, dear readers,