Meet me at 1 AM

Chapter 3

We entered an enormous and fancy-decorated office. The walls were covered with dark red wallpaper and a few bookshelves stood here and there. An expensive-looking chandelier hung from the ceiling and cast dim light through the room.

In the centre was a large desk with various documents spread over it. Behind the desk was a huge window, the glass barely covered by the curtains. The air smelled of whiskey and cigars. I liked it.

"Long time no see, old friend," a slightly older man said. His hair was already showing some white streaks, his features sharp and not particularly ugly.

"Two months to the day." My nameless companion stepped closer to him, but I stayed near the door, wanting to have an escape route behind me. Who knows what these guys were up to.

The older man just shook his head and smiled. "You young, impatient people. This business will get you killed if you don't learn how to wait." 

What business were they talking about? Human trafficking? The whores outside didn't look too sad, but I could be wrong.

"I'm just following the rules. You know how the boss is when he doesn't get what he was promised." 

His friend's gaze wandered to me. He regarded me for a while, examining my face like cattle at the market. 

"For caring so much about rules, you managed to break an essential one too well. Tell me, what is the girl doing here?"

 I tilted my head, managed to look down at him despite our height difference.

"We have a date, I wanted to show her around the city. You know, sightseeing, and so on," he said with a smug grin.

My head darted in his direction and I wrinkled my nose. This wasn't a date, it was a more or less casual meeting. I didn't even know his name.

"It seems that she sees it quite differently. Well, back to you again. I can't give you what you want, not yet."

My date reached his desk and rested his hands on the polished dark wood. He leaned forward and whispered, barely audible, "That's not the answer I was hoping for."

In a split second, they both raised their guns and I abruptly took a step back. I didn't feel like showing up at work tomorrow with a nasty gunshot wound. 

"Either you pay with the goods or with your life. Take your pick. I won't repeat myself again."

The older man was not intimidated by this ultimatum. Instead, he just smiled while his gun was pointed at the guy I thought is just a random dude.

"You don't have to repeat yourself," he retorted. Without warning, he pointed his gun at me and shot. I had no time to run for cover, barely dodging two steps when the bullet grazed my thigh.

A shrill scream escaped my lips - not out of fear but out of fright at the loud noise. 

I had hardly realized what had happened when the guy jumped his friend. They lost their balance and dropped their guns. No one bothered to burst in while they beat the crap out of themselves. Perhaps such things happened here every day. 

I raised my trembling hands, looking at the warm blood on my fingers. At first, I haven't felt the pain, the adrenaline numbed my senses. My body had not yet understood the situation. 

But then it kicked in and I had trouble breathing. Did I get a panic attack? I had been through much worse and yet this feeling was different....

They fought savagely but with precision. I had never seen such a technique - they moved like deadly dancers, born to kill, giving each other no breaks. One thing was for sure: it was not the first time they did something like that. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't impressed by the strange guy's body control.

Both of their hard pantings filled the deathly silence. I pressed my hand on the wound, trying to stop the bleeding but it did not work.

The older man gained the upper hand and grabbed his gun while my date lay wounded on the ground.

He knew things were not looking good for him and yet he grinned bravely at his friend, his teeth stained red from the blood.

I had to do something, had to help him... But what could I possibly do? What had I gotten myself into? This evening should not end in a crime scene with my body rotting in a whorehouse.

"Me and your date will have a lot of fun later. Last words?" 

Now I was sure I was getting a panic attack. I felt overwhelmed by all the emotions, had not felt anything for a long time. Instead of experiencing happiness after so many years, I was scared to death.

"Back off," I said with deadly calm.

Without looking at me, he laughed out loud. "You're not in a position to make any demands."

He was about to pull the trigger when...

Without thinking, I took the gun out of my jacket pocket.

I had never considered what it might feel like to point a gun at someone, to shoot someone.

To kill someone.

My bullet pierced his temple and with a thud, he hit the ground. I froze, dropping the gun.

My legs would have buckled if my date hadn't grabbed me at the last second. 

"Let's get out of here, I'll take you somewhere safe. Can you walk?" he asked hectically. I nodded but heard only half of what he was saying.

It was getting darker and darker around me. Was the wound worse than I'd thought? One side of my jeans was soaked in blood, so much blood.

Without another word, the guy threw me over his shoulder and I cried out in agony. My leg was on fire. "I know, I'm sorry."

He started to run and I noticed the distant and yet so close screams. Suddenly, I became fully aware of what had just happened.

The man was dead and I was his killer.

Then I passed out.