Revenge is a confession of pain - Latin Proverb
As a matter of fact, I didnt kill my dad, gave him only a gun shot wound to his shoulder.
I've broken one of Ivan's rule: Do or do not, there is no "try".
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My guilt didnt let go of me, I felt it, like a tide rolling in, each wave getting closer and closer, filling me up. Hm, wet coats weren't comfortable...
That night, it was a letter that pulled me out of my depression. It was from Hill, the head of the pro-life organization. It was written in carefully lettered calligraphy. No errors, no smudges.
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I couldn't take it anymore. I had to go to where my father was and tend to his wound. That night, I took a bus in civilian apparel to my father's residence. I got off the bus, desperately scraping off the gum I had stepped on.
I saw the blue and red flash creating a pattern on the brick walls, sirens ringing my eardrums. When I saw the crowd I felt a pang of fear....I suspected the worst, but didn't let myself know. But then a man with a fedora herded away from the scene.
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He went into the kitchen and brought me a cup of coffee. With lots of sugar in it. I didn't dare drink it, might it be poisoned. Besides I had to find out more about this guy.
The man introduced himself as my dad's aquaintance, and went by the name, Tony. Of Lebanese descent, he worked for the Italian Mafia in Lower Manhattan, living alone in a two-bed room apartment. I asked him where my father was, and how he was doing as I studied him. I noticed two things right away: His muscled arms were decorated with tattoos and he had the strangely bright eyes of a person who meditates a lot.
What a joke, I thought.
In the corner of my eyes I saw the names of doctors, lawyers, federal agents, who have been killed crossed out in red, and those that were wounded, grayed out. My eyes swept up and down for my name but I had to turn my head in order to go on with names starting with "G"... which would be too noticeable.
As I gingerly stood up from my seat, I asked, " 'Scuse me, I'll be right back. Just gonna use the bathroom."
I pretended to stretch myself on my way to the restroom.
Gabe..Gale..Galvin..Garret..
My name was circled in blue ink and it read "Find".
YOU ARE READING
One For Me, One For You
Mystery / ThrillerA young man finds out his long lost father is a professional killer. When his mother is murdered, the son is recruited into his father's old organization and trained by a man named Ivan to follow in his dad's footsteps.
