Best Served Cold

8

It looked like any old day.

Clouds blanketed the sky, casting a milky glow over the dilapidated warehouse. My Camaro splashed in a puddle, left over from last night’s raining. The only odd thing was a black SUV parked out front, but that mustn’t have been too odd with this crowd. I pulled up, got out of the car and sloshed my way through the mud. I took off my sweatshirt hood as I stepped onto the concrete floor.

“That was quite the lunch break, huh?”

I turned around to see Mario heading towards me, arms crossed.

“It was quite delicious, too.”

“I’m sure it was,” he said. “You should be glad you got Milana’s word. Otherwise I would be suspicious about where you disappear to in the middle of the day.”

“I disappeared to the Corvette Diner. You been there?” I never knew I was such a good bluffer, but I actually impressed myself. I was getting good at lying.

“No, and I don’t care. Reyes’ men stopped by. They said that they wanted to speak to you.”

I froze, half out of fear and half out of anticipation.

Were they going to kill me for Milana?

Would I get a shot at Reyes?

“What did they want?” I tried to stay calm.

“We want you to come with us.”

I swiveled around to face four giant men stepping out from behind cardboard boxes. I could tell from their posture that these weren’t just muscle, though.

They were trained.

My hand itched to draw my gun, but I could tell that was useless. They would be faster, and I would be dead. And I would miss my chance.

“Okay,” I said.

The one in front tilted his chin. “If you’d put your gun on the ground, then.”

I brought out my pistol with two fingers and let it clatter onto the floor. “You need to put me in handcuffs, too?”

“Just come with us,” he said and nodded to the SUV.

On my way outside, I heard Mario say, “I warned you, man.”

When we arrived, though, it wasn’t at a ditch.

It was at Reyes’ house, a mansion on a beach. It seemed to be the epitome of modern architecture combined with a huge budget. The place was all glass walls and sharp edges, artistic yet clean cut. The ceilings were white and the glass blue tinted, and one couldn’t help but imagine a bachelor party with billionaires and supermodels filling the halls.

A cool ocean breeze bit my face as I stepped out of the SUV, along with the welcoming smell of the salty sea. None of that distracted me, though. I was focused on one thing and one thing only: killing Reyes.

I trudged up the wide granite steps to his house, the bodyguards staying behind me. I had an urge to look and see if there was a gun pointed at my back, but I willed myself to stay looking forward.

The blue glass door opened before I could get to it. Inside was the object of hatred I had thought about before going to sleep for years. The person I wanted to kill more than anything else in the world.

The person I was here to kill.

Ignacio Reyes wasn’t like I imagined him, though. He was only in his forties, and a fake smile seemed to have a permanent hold on his face. Designer jeans; loose, button up blue shirt. He wanted to look like a billionaire playboy so bad. Even his house was designed to make it look like the owner had everything.

But when I looked into his eyes, he seemed to be missing something important. Happiness.

“Welcome, Alex.” His grandiosity was only matched by his deep voice.

“You wanted to talk to me?” I stepped into the house behind him. He kept it chill inside, perhaps to accentuate the modern furniture and gigantic TVs strewn about.

“Yes. I was just wondering how it is that someone as young as you could be so talented.”

Because I’ve been training to kill you.

“I’ve always been interested in fighting,” I said. “It seemed that it was either kill or be killed.”

He chuckled a little, then let out a sigh. “In reality it’s more like kill and be killed, son. The ones that do neither are the safest.”

Seagulls squawked out on the beach, piercing above the rhythmic crashing of waves. A few hardcore surfers in wetsuits were the only people out in the cold. The beach crowds were fair weather fans only.

“So, Alex, what have you been doing with my daughter?”

I tensed, but wouldn’t cower. I was going to die anyway, once his bodyguards saw me murder him. “Being lovebirds. What else?”

“Most people would call that a dumb move, kid.” Reyes slouched into his white lounge chair, looking out over the ocean.

“Then I would call them dumb people.”

He chuckled again, but almost in a forlorn sort of way. “I haven’t met a lot of people like you recently, you know that?”

Oh, I’m sure you’ve met plenty of people that want you dead.

“People like what?”

“Real people, Alex. Not afraid of me. Not sucking up to power. Just real.”

For one moment my willpower hesitated about going through with it.

But only one.

Then I remembered Brianna. I remembered her smiling face, and her ransom demand. I remembered her tied to a chair, saying that if my father didn’t destroy evidence for them, he’d never see her again. I had no more memories of her. They killed her as the DEA was busting down the warehouse to find her.

She was eight years old. I was ten. And then she was dead.

“I’m not afraid of you.”

That was good. I could die knowing those were my last words.

I came up behind him, making sure to stay casual for the bodyguards. They shouldn’t suspect anything before it’s done. This was the end of the road, the last mission. I would make sure it was successful.

There was his neck. I knew it would only take one strong twist to sever his spinal cord. It would snap, and it would be over. He’d be dead. I’d be shot in the back.

I could imagine his brown eyes fading from life, staring at me. I could imagine the peace I’d feel as the bullets ripped through my back. My life would be complete.

I reached out to grab his head and kill him.

But I’d never get the chance. Right then the sniper shot.