Show Me a Hero

Chapter VI

I can't get enough of her. Her scent, the taste of her lips, the feel of her body on top of mine.

"Nylekae," I moan when she presses soft, feather-like kisses up my neck and to my ear.

"Nikita," she whispers back, one hand on my waist, the other one in my hair. "You don't know how much I've missed this."

"Ny...Nylekae—"

~*~*~*~*~

"Quit it, Larold, or I'm kicking your ass out for the last goddamn time!"

"But—"

"You're at a bar, not a football stadium, settle down! And stop breaking my beer glasses!"

Larold settles back onto his stool, albeit grumpily.

Nylekae motions for one of the waiters to sweep up the broken glass before turning back to her customer. "Sorry, babes, what were we talking about again?"

The man shakes his head with a forlorn sigh, idly tilting his scotch glass back and forth. "Why couldn't I have married someone like you?"

"Now, now," Ny scolds lightly, wiping down a shot glass, "your wife is a very lovely woman, and you're very lucky to have married her." She places the glass onto the shelf behind her. "All relationships have their rough patches, Mr. Stewart." She grabs the scotch and turns around to pour him another shot and—

"You fucking bastard!"

Next to Mr. Stewart, Jim just downs the last dregs of his beer before loudly belching and asking, "Oh, what now?"

"How dare you!"

A woman comes marching up to one of the patrons seated at a booth and throws his drink in his face. She shrilly declares to the entire bar that Nick there is a two-timing son of a bitch who, apparently, fucked his secretary on the bed they share.

"Oh, boy." Nylekae scratches the back of her head.

"You wanna handle this or should I?"

Nylekae puts on her best puppy dog eyes and shoots Jim a beseeching look.

"When I get back, there better be a cold glass of beer waiting for me."

"You got it, bub," Ny promises with a two-fingered salute.

As Jim heads off to attempt to assuage the scorned, furious woman, a young girl—couldn't be older than high school age—comes sidling up to the bar, eyes downcast and shoulders hunched. Behind her is Leo, who gives Ny the okay signal before returning to his post at the bar's entrance.

"Um," the girl starts, then stops. Her eyes flicker to Nylekae, then to the ground again. "Uh, well, I—I was told that, uh, you...provide certain services here?"

Ny flashes that disarming grin of hers and the girl relaxes slightly. "You've come to the right place, kid." She gestures for the girl to follow her to the far end of the bar away from any possible eavesdroppers. "What can we help you with?"

"W—Well, is it true you..." The girl leans in and softens her voice to a whisper. "Is it true you kill people?"

"Depends." Nylekae shrugs. "I'll assassinate the president of the United States of America for a jelly-filled donut but some of my cohorts adhere to this pesky li'l thing they call morals or some shit."

The girl pulls back, somewhat stunned. After a moment of consideration, she resumes her earlier stance. "Would you be willing to...take out my father?"

Nylekae studies the girl, takes note of the bruise peeking out from underneath her long sleeve, thinks the braided pigtails make her look even younger than she already is, and ignores the pang of sympathy in her chest. "You got a name, kiddo?"