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“I came over in a cab,” Emma replies.
“Well, I can’t rightly let you take one back,” I say. I can see she’s drunk. Another part of the plan. I nursed the same two glasses of champagne, while she sucked down the remainder of the bottle and half of the next.
“Why, aren’t you just the kindest gentleman in all of Hannibal?” Emma puts on an old-timey movie accent, with is accompanied by a naughty smile to match.
“Sure I am. It’s not every day I get to share my night with a beautiful lady,” I reply, leading her to my car. “So, where are we headed?”
I already know her address, and I start the car, driving in that general direction. She tells me the address and it’s a ten-minute drive, give or take. Ten more minutes and my job is done. The idea of my bed is sounding mighty fine right now.
“You know, you really didn’t have to do any of this, right? It was only a couple of groceries,” Emma says, a sigh accompanies her words. She almost sounds sad.
“I know, but I wanted to,” I reply.
“You did?” Emma’s desperate need for affection is almost as sad as she sounds.
“Of course. The second I saw you, I knew I had to get to know you,” the lies flow like water down a raging river.
We pull into Emma’s driveway and she’s looking at me with a smug little grin. “You know; I think you should come inside.”
“Is that right?” I cock a brow. “What for?”
“Well, you need to make sure the milk’s fine, right? Can’t have you worrying about the second batch,” she giggles, opening the car door. She tosses my jacket on the front seat, rubbing her arms with a little shiver.
“Alright, well, I can’t refuse an offer like that. Don’t you know I’m an advocate against the cruelty of all lactose?” Her giggle turns into a full-blown laugh.
I get out of the car, and start walking her to the front door. As she works the key and lock, a sigh leaves my lips.
“Damn, I forgot something in the car,” I say, already walking back to it. “Give me a second.”
“I’m sure it can wait,” Emma says, horny and in desperate need to get laid. She couldn’t have made it any easier if she tried.
“It really can’t,” I reply. “I wanted to surprise you with it, but it’s in my jacket pocket. Slipped me completely.”
“A surprise? This early?” Emma’s teeth tug at her bottom lip.
I run the distance from her door to my car, and get back inside. In the glove box, my Sig Sauer P320 waits under a pile of papers. I grab my jacket, tuck the pistol in my waistband, and make my way back towards her house.
The lights are off apart from the living room. It’s decorated well, with a plush leather sofa, enormous flat-screen TV, and trinkets adorn the coffee table and a wooden framed shelf. Emma’s standing, almost awkwardly until I’m in full view.
She doesn’t wait for me to get her gift, not that there really is one. Emma closes the distance between us, her hands against my standing on her tippy-toes. She presses her pursed lips against mine. I don’t give her anything back.
While her eyes are shut, I draw my Sig Sauer. I press it against the side of her head. Two blue orbs meet mine, absolute terror filling them.
“Wh…what are you doing?” she demands. Her timid, scared voice almost makes this hard… almost.
“I’m sorry, Emma,” I say. Stoic and stern. This is what I do, after all. A killer for The King. “Bruno Romani sends his regards.”
“B…but why? What was the point of all this then?” Emma asks. She’s stunned, locked in place, unable to break away. Her hands clutch my shirt, pulling hairs from my chest.
“I thought I’d send you to heaven with a smile on your face.”
There’s no hesitation. I pull the trigger before her begging and pleading start. Her body crumples at my feet. Apart from the shot, there’s no noise, no screaming. I tuck my gun back into my waistband, and make my way out.
Bruno’s impossible task laid out and complete.
I wonder if Emma’s death will haunt me tonight. I guess not, with thoughts of Isabella already returning by the time I get on the road. The thought of a quick stop at her window crosses my mind. If I’m lucky, it’ll be open enough to see inside.
Fucking pathetic – I know.
But, I’ve lost all control over these desires.
