“I couldn’t understand what was going on. Her husband? What happened to no knowledge of customer or motive? Cindy practically had to push me out of the car but grabbed onto Dora as I left. Cindy said “You won’t need that here and it’s dangerous to keep on hand.” He eyed me suspiciously like he didn’t trust me and continued softer “You got that dead stare in your eyes. Don’t kill her too. I’ll get a new car and come back for you in an hour or so”. It was Christmas morning and light was starting to shine again in a greyish kind of way. I didn’t know what was happening but, doing as I was told, I went up to the house and rang the doorbell. The door opened immediately. It was like she was just waiting there for me. That was when I saw ‘the happy widow’ (that’s what I’ll call her). She was tall, maybe 5’10” and slender a bit older maybe early forties, but hard to tell. She was very pretty with a tapered face that didn’t seem to have aged much despite the tell-tale grey in her hair. She was pretty enough to make me jealous that at her age she gets to be that good looking. She was also clearly expecting someone else. She had on nothing but a silk robe tied loosely about her waist and I could clearly see from the revealingly low neckline created that she had no bra on and potentially nothing else as well. She had shoulder-length brown hair with hints of peppering grey in it as well and, compared to the harsh cold of the outside, the warmth emanating from her house felt wonderful. Here bravery escaped me. I just emptied an entire clip at a room full of gangsters a few hours ago before swan diving off a fire escape and now I am afraid of a middle aged woman. I look down and notice a small drop of blood trailing down my finger. I guess I didn’t do as good of a cleanup as I thought.
She spoke quickly and started looking up and down the street suspiciously as she talked “Who are you? Why are you here?” she said. She looked at me briefly. Words couldn’t come to my mouth. Harshly she said “if you’re here to sell girl-scout cookies or something go away. I’m expecting someone important.” I stammered at first and finally said slowly and awkwardly “I killed your husband”.
I do as I’m told.
Ok, this part was weird. Spitting out those words to a woman for no apparent reason at all. She looked at me harshly and whispered hoarsely “I don’t believe you”. Her eyes narrowed to slits and she suddenly looked almost serpentine with her slender body backing slowly and reaching around at the door handle ready to slam it shut.
Somewhere in the back of my mind, the logical portion that doesn’t die when all else goes blank, I remembered I still had his wallet so I handed it to her. She opened it and quickly looked up and down the empty snow-covered street then grabbed my hand and suddenly dragged me inside with amazing force and slammed of the door.
Once inside, she looked at the wallet and back at me again. It felt like an eternity under her gaze as her eyes passed from me to the wallet and back again. Finally, she said “Ok, how did you get this?” I explained everything about what I had done last night. I figured, what the hell. She knows I killed her husband already, why not dive all the way down the rabbit’s hole and explain everything. As I explained her expression went from distrust and anger to softening to nearly tears by the time I finished. When I had finished, she clutched me close and whispered in my ear “Thank you, oh God, thank you.” It was then as the silk robe slipped down a little from her shoulder that I saw the bruise that was there and the pieces started to fall into place for me. She held me back away from her a little bit and looked at me again. Dried her tears with one hand while she held on to me with the other. “My dear child, what is your name? Why were you sent to do this?” I spoke “My name is Angel. I work for Blakguard. It’s my job.” Nothing but flat, honest, truth with just enough lie to protect me. She starts chuckling from her tears “So child-labor to add to their list of crimes. Oh well, he’s gone that’s what matters. I’ll admit you are not at all what I expected. I was expecting a bold, young, handsome, man to come in and tell me I was free of that bastard forever. Not a little girl who smells a little bit like garbage and blood, but that’s what I get for being too romantic in my expectations, I guess.” Yeah, that makes sense. She was expecting someone like Tom. A normal looking assassin…”