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“You’re going to wish you never took this job.” I slice off finger after finger, removing the knife from his hand. When I get to pinky, I ask again, “Who sent you?”
“Fuck you.” I slice the last finger and move up to his face. I grab a lighter from the table and heat the knife. After the blade is red, I press it down on his ear and slice it off. Blood splashes at my shirt, and the fucker finally screams. Good. We’re getting somewhere.
“Who fucking sent you?”
“I don’t know.” He’s lying. I press the knife on his stomach and drag it down. Cut him enough to draw blood and cut his shirt open. Let's kick this up a notch. I walk to the table where my toys are, waiting to be played with. Standing in front of the table, I take them in. A metal box catches my eyes. Yes, that will work. When I grab it, I hear scratching coming from inside. Smiling, I stare at the man and head his way. When I get closer and he hears the scratching coming from the box, he starts begging for his life.
“Who sent you?”
“I don’t know. Please let me go. I'm telling the truth. They paid me and sent me the address.” I remove the top on the metal box and flip it on top of his body. The smell of ammonia penetrates the air. Fucker pissed his pants. I let out a laugh.
“Let the fun begin.”
* * *
Two fucking hours, and we couldn’t get shit from the guy.
“Fuck!” I kick the chair. Where the hell did that man come from? No matter what I did to him, he would only laugh.
“We’ll find out who it was, brother. Relax. You look pale. Let’s check out that wound.”
“I’m fine. Since when do you fuss like a mother hen?”
“Since Sophia fell into your life. I feel that she’ll cut my balls off if I let something happen to you.”
Sophia…The strange feeling I get in my stomach at just the name has me heading to the door. I need to see her. She’ll make everything better.
“Where the fuck are you going? Stupid question. I know where,” he yells after me.
“I expect all of this to be fixed by tomorrow. Move people around, I don’t give a shit what you have to do, but tomorrow we open.”
Driving was more complicated than I thought it would be; I had to stop a few times from how dizzy I was from the blood loss. I’m crazy for doing this instead of getting checked out. Standing outside her apartment, I compose myself. I probably look like shit with my shirt covered in blood, a mix of mine and the guy I killed. I pull out the key to her apartment from my pocket, the one I made without her knowledge, and open the door.
The only sound I hear is coming from the tv in the living room. She’s probably watching one of those true crime shows she likes so much. For a person who makes her living on saving people, she knows a lot about how to murder someone. Walking in, I get hit with another dizzy spell. This time I don’t have anything to hold on to, so I fall to my knees on the floor, which causes a loud thud to reverberate through the mostly empty hallway.
“Is someone there?” She hears a noise, and she asks who’s there. This woman has no sense of self-preservation. Her footsteps patter on the linoleum floor as they head in my direction, then I hear her say, “Maxim,” and kneel in front of me in a worried tone.
I don’t hesitate and pull her into my arms.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” I don't say anything; I just hug her tighter, needing to feel her warmth. “Maxim. What’s wrong?”
She pulls back and looks at me, then down at her hands. Something I can’t decipher crosses her face but quickly dissipates and is replaced with determination. She stands up, grabbing my arms and wrapping them around her neck. Guiding me to the kitchen and sitting me down on a chair, she looks at my shirt. I can see worry all over that beautiful face, but she doesn’t say anything.
“It will be fine. I’ll take care of you.” I can’t imagine the horrible things she’s seen to be able to stay so calm. She leaves the room and brings back a kit after a few minutes. She places it down on the table, goes through it, and lays out everything she needs on the table. She places her hand on my cheek and looks into my eyes.
“I need to remove your shirt. I think the shirt clinging to the wound has stopped the bleeding, and when I remove it, it will start bleeding again. I have to do this fast. Nod for me if you understand what I’m saying.”
I do, and the room starts spinning. Get a hold of yourself. She stares at me for a few seconds, searching for something, and gives me a chaste kiss before removing my shirt. The wound starts bleeding again when she does, trailing down my stomach onto the floor. The spinning gets worse. I think I need to lie down.
“I need to rest. The room is spinning.”
“Let’s go to the couch.” She puts her arm over her shoulder and takes me to the couch.
“I love this couch.” She chuckles and slowly places me down, and goes to the kitchen to get the items from the kit.
I’ve seen her do this to Andrei, but I was angry at what happened that day and didn’t pay much attention. I’m in awe of this woman as she cleans and stitches me up effortlessly. I feel like I’m in a trance staring at her. The process takes longer than it did with Andrei. I guess my wound is worse.
“Done. Now, let’s wash you, shall we? You stink.”
I try to smile at the strong woman in front of me. It’s hard not to. She’s the light to my darkness. The woman I love. Love? I never thought I was capable of feeling love for someone. But I do. I love her.
