Dying to know

A dealbreaker

I was nervous while ringing the doorbell of the now familiar suburban house. Why had he called me? Why did he want to meet again? I'd been clear that it was too expensive. At least I think I'd been clear? I mean, I did say I was gonna save up some money just in case but how fast did he expect me to get that much money?

I didn't poop money. I sure as hell didn't earn that much with my job.

After a few seconds, I heard some shuffling on the other side of the door and shortly after, Marcus appeared.

"Hey Mila! Please, come in," he said in his cheerful voice.  For some reason his personality didn't fit his job but maybe that was a ruse so they'd never suspect him.

Marcus was supposed to be big, bald and ripped with a grim personality. He needed to be Jason Statham in pretty much every role he's ever played. That was my image of a hitman. Not this cheery guy with a babyface.

Although he did seem strong and maybe he had a mean streak but so far I hadn't seen it yet.

"Sit down! Want something to drink? Soda? Tea?" Marcus asked while I walked up to the chair.

"No thanks, I'm good," I told him. He shrugged and went to sit down opposite me, just like last time.

"So-"

"Wh-"

Marcus and I both started talking at the same time. We were both quite talkative but he was probably gonna answer the question I had on my mind. What the fuck am I doing here?

"You go first," I told Marcus and he grinned.

"Okay. A client cancelled on me, so I have time for you, if you want," Marcus spoke.

A client cancelled? What would that mean? Who cancels on a hitman? Maybe he fell short on the money.

"Is that even possible?" I asked, feeling kinda dumb.

"Of course!"

"But how? I mean-"

"I'm not allowed to tell you much but it was a person who also wanted to be killed. That person changed his mind. It happens. People realise it's all too real and then they cancel. Anyway, it made me think of you. You seemed pretty sure so I figured I'd give you another call," Marcus explained.

"Right," I told the cheery hitman in front of me, "but I don't have the money," I sighed.

"I understand," Marcus said, his eyebrows slightly furrowed as if he was thinking about something.

"Look, I can't kill you for free but maybe I can give you a discount," he opted.

"A murder on sale? Now that's something I haven't heard of before," I laughed.

"Hey, I live to please!" Marcus smiled and for some reason that sounded so ironic. But in the end, he was right. He was doing what people paid him to do. He probably didn't see it as murder but as as a service he provided to help people. I guess you had to see it like that to temper the guilt.

"Depends on the discount," I told Marcus.

"Let's sayyy... I'll do it for thirty grand. Take it or leave it," he stated. Wait, was this some kind of negotation? Did he expect me to bid even lower so we'd eventually come up with a price that would be beneficial to both of us?

"Twenty," I countered him.

"Sorry, Mila. Thirty is the lowest I'm gonna go, which is half the price," he said as if he was actually sorry for me.

"How long does the offer stand? I don't have your money now but in a few months, I could probably get that much together," I pondered.

"Not too long I'm afraid. I can get a call any minute and if I can get a client who pays the full price, I'm gonna take that client. This is my job and I don't that my job for free," he explained calmly. I totally understood.

"Well, thank you so much for the offer. I hate that I don't have the money. Can I call you when I do? Just in case a client cancels again?" I asked with puppy eyes.

He laughed softly. "Such a shame you want to end it though. I think you're a great person," he winked.

Was he hitting on me? Was the fucking hitman hitting on me? Really? I mean, he's cute and he has such friendly eyes.

I could live with someone like that. If he wasn't a fucking hitman! Small dealbreaker.

Although, if I'd date him, he probably would kill me for free... Or not at all. The risk was too big.

"Thanks?" I said when I realised I hadn't answered him yet. Yup, that left me pretty speechless.

"No problem," he spoke, as if he didn't realise I suddenly felt a little uncomfortable.  "Maybe you wanna go grab some food or a drink some time?"

Oh my God. I was right. He was hitting on me.

"Ehh... don't get me wrong, yo-"

"It's because I kill people for a living isn't it? That's usually a dealbreaker," he sighed. "You know, I usually don't tell girls about it until the relationship is solid enough but guess what? A relationship is never solid enough for this. I hate it," he ranted.

Poor guy.

"I... well yeah. That's the only reason to be honest. And I'm not really looking for a serious relationship either. Since, you know..." I explained.

"Right," he sighed again.

Well, this was gonna be a hoot to tell my trusted shrink Frank. Would I even tell him?

I worried whether to tell him or not the entire time until I realised I was standing in front of Frank's office door and figured I had to make the decision swiftly. Too bad for me that I sucked at keeping secrets and eventually Frank would find out.

Maybe, I could postpone telling it to him.

I went to sit down, still locked inside my own head, not really paying attention to what Frank was saying.

There was a new poster on his wall. Some charity cause for kids with anxiety disorders. I wondered whether he treated kids too.

He seemed too serious.

Too serious to be a shrink? Was that a thing? If it was, Frank definitely fit the bill. He went outside of the box but he rarely joked with me. This could be his professional personality. At home, he could be a comedian for all I knew.

That was hard to imagine, though.

"So, let's start, shall we?" Frank asked as he grabbed his notepad.

"Sooo, hypothetically speaking... what do you do when a hitman hits on you?" I blurted out.

Guess I was gonna tell Frank the story after all.