Death's Angel

Chapter 5

Reaper ate a meal down at a nearby café as he watched the morning news reporting the murder of Audrey. Kolbi had taken care of the footage and as for those guards, they "disappeared".

Reaper was finished with the job and yet he's still in New Orleans, in a café eating breakfast. He hummed as he brought some eggs close to his mouth. A shadow casted over him like a dark cloud on a rainy day.

"What do you want?" Reaper questioned sternly and assertively, not caring to look up from his plate. A deep chuckle rumbled :"Always a rough guy, huh Reaper?"

He felt the booth shift.

A man- smooth chocolate skin, painted with tattoos on his left pec and forearms-sat down in front of him biting his lips smiling at him.

Reaper only grunted in response, stuffing his mouth with eggs. "Not gonna even acknowledge an old pal?" The man fake pouts. "What are you doing here Angelo?" Reaper questioned. "Same as you, I suppose. I have a job just like you did."

Angelo reaches into his pocket and pulls out a photo and slides it towards Reaper. His face was emotionless but his heart skipped a beat as he looked at the photo. 'Selina,' Reaper stared at her photo for a while. Thoughts and fears swam through his mind.

Somebody wanted her dead for whatever reason that didn't matter- all that mattered was that someone wanted her dead.

An angel, dead. Reaper's eyes traveled back up to Angelo, curiosity in his eyes. "You know her?" Angelo asks. Reaper shook his head and denied it though it was a lie, a big fat lie.  "Are you sure you don't know this woman because you were staring at her picture for a while." Angelo queried.

"Positive." Angelo examined him, trying to spot the lie or any hint of a lie, his squinted eyes taking in every nook of Reaper, who only stared back unphased by him. His squinted orbs fully opened as he leaned back in the booth.

"Either you're telling the truth or you're just a good liar," he says, "doesn't matter anyway. She's as good as dead."

Reaper felt his heart beat against his ribs, hard as his vein popped out of his wrists from the clenching. It was only one night, so why does he feel like this? Why does he feel hurt?

Selina was a charmer, that's for sure but an angel nonetheless with a voice sent from heaven and yet why was she on a list? Who would pay to have her killed?

"Well, wish me luck. Kinda hard having to take a pretty face from this world but hey, that's just life." Angelo shrugged it off before leaving. Reaper sat in the booth alone, his mind racing widely like horses running around in an open field.

His hand trembled as he reached for the glass of water in front of him, his fist clenched it causing it to break. Blood trickled from the cut palm and down his arm and some dropped onto the food below.

Reaper rested his head against his bloody fist, surely getting it on his forehead but he didn't care. Selina was all he cared about at the moment. "Something wrong?" Reaper peered up again and behold, Izaak was standing over him, concern was written all over his face.

"Nothing." Reaper dismissed as he stood up. He stuffed his injured hand into his pocket and trudged away only to be stopped by a hand on his shoulder. "Your hand says otherwise." Izaak argued, pulling Reaper's hand out into view. Reaper tried to snatch his arm away but Izaak's grip tightened, preventing him from doing that.

“Listen kid, I don't know how you know me but when I tell you this, I mean it,” Reaper stepped dangerously close to Izaak, his mouth was leveled with his ear, “stay away from me or what happens to you won’t be pretty. So either you leave me alone or you’ll end up in a body bag.” Reaper stepped away from Izaak, Izaak’s eyes trailed Reaper’s figure as he stepped away.