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“Did you do it?” he asked nervously.
“No, I missed,” I said in a calm voice.
I didn’t tell him why I missed. Maybe I would tell him at some point, but not now. I was still processing the fact that Lars had been there.
“…oh…”
I could hear the fear in his voice.
“What? Did you find out who the client is?”
“Yeah. His name is Fausto Rosolini, he’s the UNCLE of the target… and he’s ALSO in the mafia.”
Great.
“Well,” I said, trying to keep my composure, “it’s not like I didn’t anticipate the mafia part.”
“What’s Fausto’s reaction going to be when he finds out you missed?”
“I told him several times that things would likely end in failure.”
“Yeah, but… considering he’s mafia…?”
He didn’t have to finish the thought.
Our other clients would have been irritated at my failure, but they wouldn’t have pushed back too hard.
A mafia thug wouldn’t be intimidated at all.
“I’m not sure how he’ll react,” I answered truthfully. “I’ll let you know as soon as I find out.”
“Alright… watch your back.”
“Thanks, Sean.”
Then I hung up.
I hesitated for almost a full minute… then told myself it had to be done.
I dialed the number Fausto had given me. He answered on the second ring.
“Well?” he snapped.
He sounded completely unlike the times I had talked to him before. The charm was gone, replaced with irritability.
“I missed.”
“I see,” he said gruffly. “Was there a reason why?”
I asked myself, Do I tell him?
I reasoned that he already knew. If I didn’t mention it, he would know I was lying.
“Yes. My ex-boyfriend was Rosolini’s private bodyguard. He’s former Special Forces, and he tackled Rosolini before my second shot.”
There was a long silence.
When he didn’t answer, I grew angry.
