The Hitman's Bodyguard

That Shit Is Explosive

I parked in the lot of a small, out of the way, hotel. Darius and I vacating the Honda civic and grabbing the weapons and medical shit out of the back. I walked over to where the other cars were parked before turning to Darius.
"Mustang or Mercedes?" I asked him, laughing as he immediately walked over to the drivers side of the Mustang. I took my pen knife out of my pocket and used the blade to jimmy the lock. I got in passenger's side and handed the knife to Darius. "You probably have better ways but these are pretty useful and I have plenty spares." I waited until he started driving until I climbed across into the back seat to lie down.
"You gonna take a nap?" He asked.
"Just resting, you're hurt so I can take over whenever you need to rest your leg." I responded, lying back and crossing my arms behind my head.
"Why are you being so nice to me? I essentially ruined your career and you haven't even brought it up once." He sounded on edge. "I don't trust it."
"You should. I'm trying really hard to not be bitter about it, there's no time for feelings in this business. You of all people should understand that. After all, it was your wife's imaginary car accident that got you caught." I scoffed. "She must be special, your Sonia, I've rarely seen a hitman leave a paying job for someone else."
"She is but we aren't talking about her. We're talking about you," he caught my eyes in the rear view mirror before he continued. "What's all this shit about no feelings? Everyone needs some feelings in their job. I'd feel safer if you tried to punch me at least once. It would prove to me that you aren't some cracked sociopath." I noticed the grin on his face and rolled my eyes, punching his shoulder as hard as I could. He cursed. "Ouch! Mother fucker!"
"You said you'd feel safer," I shrugged. "I am here to keep you safe so therefore it was in my job discription." Our eyes clashed in the mirror again and his brow furrowed.
"Not when I'm driving. You do realise that if I crash this car you die too?" Darius asked, seriously. I chuckled.
"Actually, I'd have to protect your ass with my body. If this car crashes, I die and you live with either minor or major injury. At which point you should take the phone out of my corpses pocket and let Amelia know to make arrangements for my funeral." I laughed at the shock on Darius' face.
"You really take this job so seriously that you'd die for someone that took it from you?" He asked.
"Obviously, besides, despite our very large and obvious differences I admire certain abilities that you have. For example the shot you got Kurosawa with? I was awestruck, I didn't even see your ass until after the fact." I admitted sheepishly. "That's one of the other reasons that I'm not going after you. I obviously deserved it. I didn't even see you so the entire thing was my own fault. I'm a glutton for punishment."
Darius looked horrified.
"You can't be se-" he turned in the seat to look at me, a double take, and then slapped the passenger seat. "Get your ass up here."
"What!" I asked, shocked.
"We need to talk about your self-esteem, it stinks." Darius grimaced. With a groan, I moved up into the passenger seat and waited for him to start giving me shit. "You had no chance of seeing me. I was too far away, it was too late and if you had blocked the shot you would have died. It wasn't your fault, it wasn't anyone's fault. You were in the right place at the right time and so was I, it's a shame but sometimes shit just happens like that. What the hell is wrong with you anyway? Talking about dying or getting hurt like it's nothing, you fucked in the head or what?" Darius scoffed and shook his head. "We gonna get you to that therapist even if I gotta make you myself."