Disclaimers: Story is mine. It came to me and I wrote it in under 3 hours. Wish that would happen with all my other stories *g*. This story is a little different from my other ones but I hope everyone would like it as well. Let me know!
One bullet right between the eyes.
One silver bullet right between the eyes.
That has been my calling card for more than 10 years now.
10 years since the day I was betrayed (or to my bosses, the day I betrayed them) by the one whom I trusted with my life. And by another whom I thought was the love of my life.
I have since realised my folly. She wasn't the one for me. She never was. Not her. I know that now. But back then, I barely escaped with my life... with nothing but the clothes on my back and my gun. I was branded a traitor.
But with the gun I had, I forged a new career path. I became a specialist. A specialist hitman... or more accurately, hitwoman. A hitwoman for hire. I assassinated for money. I killed for more. I used my skills for my own benefit. I became my own boss. I swore that no one would own me.
Not till I got my revenge.
And I did get my revenge.
My 'partner' who betrayed me was taken care off relatively early. The ones who bought his loyalty decided that I was more valuable to them and presented him to me as a 'gift'. A goodwill gesture they said. I smiled for the first time in years when I saw him hanging by his chains in that cell.
Eventually I did get my hands on the bitch. She was killed like him, of course. Dead at my hands... or should I say, dead at the hands of my handgun and a silver bullet I had specially manufactured for her.
She thought being married to a federal agent and changing her identity would save her from my wrath... little did she know... nothing escapes me. Nothing I really wanted.
But once I had my revenge, I was at loose ends. For so long I played by the dark rules in return for my satisfaction and when it was on hand and I achieved what had haunted me for eight years of my life I wandered along the beach aimlessly.
I ignored the constant vibrating of my phone, alerting me to more job offers. That was when I saw her.
A tiny slip of a woman on the wrong side of the fists belonging to several drunken men. I did not think. I just reacted. And they were swiftly beaten away. They were lucky I never brought extra ammunition when I was on a 'special' mission.
There was nothing I could do but take her home. Being the best in my field had its advantages. A mansion in one of the most exclusive part of town was one of my few indulgences. A well-placed phone call eliciting the help of a very prominent doctor in town was another advantage that I was glad I had that night.
To make a long story short. She was recovered. And somehow, she never left my home. And I found myself with a new aim in life. To make her happy. She told me she loves me. But I'm afraid...
She doesn't know the truth about me. Just thinks that I have an international 'security' business that requires my presence several days on a stretch. I'm afraid if she knows the truth... I would lose her for sure.
Just like I've lost everything I've ever cared about.
My parents believed the stories that I betrayed my team and became a turncoat. I am not foolish enough to confront them. I know my remaining enemies would keep close watch on them. I did 'accidentally' bumped into my mother one day few years ago at the bank. She did not recognise me.
No one in my previous life would. I have a scar... one courtesy of that someone I once trusted with my life. A scar running from my right temple down to almost my chin. I've cut my once long hair, though I've kept it black. Black is just easier in my line of work.
Should I tell her today? Or tomorrow? Only one way to dispel this deceit I am hiding.
I'll tell her the day after tomorrow... or is that too late?
Being in love is a big responsibility. Moving in circles, decisions chasing me round and round.
I reach the home we now shared. The front door is unlocked. And I am griped by fear. She knows better than let any one in the house that she does not know.
I enter the house, pulling my ever-present gun from my holster, glad that I was not on a 'special' mission and had ammunition.
A few plants that she had insisted on getting were knocked off their tables. A quick look at the rooms downstairs reveal nothing else. I walk up the stairs and towards our bedroom.
I push the door open. She is lying on our bed. All around her is a mess. She put up a valiant fight. I raise her bruised and battered body up and I know she is gone. Gone to a better place and away from someone like me.
I have no doubt who among my enemies have done this. They don't want me to be happy. I pull out my mobile with one hand, the other still hugging her cooling body to mine.
I call him. Then, I ready my weapon and load it with one of my special silver bullets. I know he would come. I know he would not want to miss an opportunity to gloat in person. I know him well. He thinks himself invincible because of the standing of his family.
I'm ready for him. I am finally ready to do what I should have done long before. I make another call. This time I leave instructions on what to do in a few hours time.
He is here. Strutting confidently towards me. I was too late for her but I am ready for him.
Surprise is in his face as he spots the gun in my hand. Well, he can't miss it with it being inches away from his face. I smile and pull the trigger without a second thought.
That done, I pull out several documents from a hidden safe under my closet. Documents so sensitive I know many who would kill me for revealing it.
But since I do not plan to be alive when it is revealed, I have no qualms in taking them out now.
The ones I trust would soon awake with my instructions to them on their answering machine. They know what needs to be done. They will make sure the truth is revealed.
I pick her up and carry her to the bathroom where I see she had been ready to take her bath. I do so for her now. I dress her in her favourite nightie. One I had bought for her on our first anniversary together.
I load my gun with my special silver bullet for the second time. I walk across to the other side of the bed and lay next to her.
The real love of my life.
She almost made me human again.
And without her I know I am not.
If only. If only I had told her the truth about me.
If only I had cautioned her against whom her could really trust. I feared the questions that would have followed.
I feared nothing in the world except losing her. And now I have.
And I no longer have anything to live for.
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