Running From Love.

Running From Love (Preface)

Preface.

He walked down the cold wet side walk toward the address he was giving on the sheet of paper. The night was cold and rainy. He hugged his black coat tighter around his frame. He had been in this line of work for far too long, longer than he would have liked. He took a deep breath and sighed. His boss promised this was the last time. This was the last run.

He stopped in front of an apartment building. He looked at the numbers carefully; this was the right place. There was a name on the slip. He read it over again Riley Starr. This was going to be the last hit he thought to him self as he looked up at the red bricked building. He swung the glass door open. He raced up the stairs up and down the hall way. He stopped at a door with the number 33 on it. He pulled a small black case out of his jacket pocket. He pulled out a small metal wire device. He stuck the device in the key hole. He twisted it until he heard a low click sound. He pulled it out and opened the door.

Once he stepped inside his senses were flooded with the smell of warm vanilla, lavender, and cherry bark. He could hear the water running. He sniffed again; it was a weird scent for a man to be using in the shower. Maybe he had a girl with him? He frowned at the thought. He felt bad enough about taking the life of a man he never met; he didn't want to take another innocent life. He felt like a monster as it was. He took a deep breath as he pulled on a pair of black leather gloves and pulled a hand gun from his belt screwing on a silencer. He entered the large bath room almost silently.

He could smell something he hadn't smelt before. It was a hot thick sweet spicy scent. It got stronger with each heart beat. He could smell the blood from the human in the shower; he could smell the heat rolling off the human's skin. He snuck against walls his steps carful and precise. He could see a girl now she was beautiful, he eyes were close, and she was washing her heated skin with soap, her hair was lathered in shampoo. Her lips were pulled into a relaxed smile. In any other situation he would wish that he could join the strangely attractive woman. A smile pulled at the corners of his lips as he watched. He looked a little farther, looking for the guy he was supposed to kill. There was no man. He snuck out of the bathroom as silent as he has entered.

He pulled out a black cell phone out of his pocket and dialed a number. It rang twice before a deep voice answered.

"Hello?" The voice answered.

"Hey, it's Carson. The man with the hit isn't here, you said he would be." He said his voice barely a whisper.

The voice paused.

"It's not a man. Riley Starr is a woman." The voice said.

Carson felt his stomach turn. He couldn't kill a woman, it was his only rule.

"You know my rules." He said trying not to raise his voice.

"And you know what will happen if the job isn't done." The voice said.

The line went dead.

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