How to Escape an Assassin

4: Beautiful Beasts

As the elevator descended to ground level, I maintained as much distance as possible between the man and myself. Thankfully, a few other passengers entered the elevator after me.

At the ground level, all of the elevator passengers spilled out. I let out a breath of relief that I was holding the entire time.

"Hey kid, wait up," the man called out to me as I speed-walked away from him. He ran in front of me to cut off my path. "What are the odds we'd both be here?" He said with a laugh.

"Yeah, it's so weird," I said nervously. I felt nauseous at his forced interactions.

"We must be fated or somethin'. I just got done visiting my parents. They were in a really bad car accident last month that left them both brain dead," he explained, a strained look coming over his face.

My heart softened. Maybe I was just paranoid. "I'm so sorry to hear that. Looks like we're both going through tragedy right now. My baby sister j-just... passed away."

He nodded and placed his large, beefy hand on my shoulder. "Sorry to hear that, kiddo. I know it's hard losing people you care about. My folks are technically not dead yet but it feels like I've lost them already." He sighed, looking down at the floor. "How about we walk over to the café and talk more, yeah? Maybe it can distract us both."

With a heavy heart, I agreed. I could use a friend to talk to. Beneath the surface, my baby sister's death left me feeling raw and hollow. And the images of bloody Yvette and the masked man in her basement haunted me.

"You haven't told me your name yet," I said as we walked.

"Name's Felix." He answered. "Forgive me kiddo, but I forgot yours."

"My name is Milan."

Together we walked into a dimly lit café across the street. There was soft jazz music playing. We sat at a booth by the window.

"So, what do you want to talk about?" I started.

"Give me a moment please." Felix said, whipping out his phone and standing abruptly to take a call.

"What the hell do you want?" He barked through the phone as he walked briskly out of the front door. Since I was seated facing away from the entrance, I twisted my neck to watch him through the large front windows. He ran a frustrated hand through his hair and made angry hand symbols as he spoke, as if the person on the other side of the line could see him.

When he returned to our booth, he had a relaxed smile as if the phone call never took place. "Want to order something to drink?" He asked me.

I shook my head. Honestly, I no longer desired to be here. I was already emotionally drained, and this man's unpredictable behavior was not helping. But I didn't want to abandon him, since he was experiencing a tough time with the critical state that his parents were in.

"What do you want to talk about?" I tried to make my voice as animated as possible, but a hint of irritation broke through.

"Tell me about yourself," Felix said casually.

"What do you want to know?" I asked softly.

Just like that, we fell into conversation about our life, childhoods, hopes and fears. I learned that Felix was 27 and made a living primarily from the car dealerships that he owned, but also invested in stock and real estate. He told me that he lived with his younger siblings Tristan and Vivian, as well as Vivian's husband and two kids. Then he shared some touching stories about his parents, and how their family had to adjust over the past month due to the accident.

Similarly, I told him about how I'm a 22-year-old preschool teacher and I live with my parents. I explained my little sister's situation, and that the past few days have been hectic in general.