Kill Or Be Killed // McHarrison

Two

"Pawlie!" little Heather screams and hugs my knees once she flings open the door.

I chuckle a little and pet her hair. "'ello there, puppet." i smile softly and try to waddle into the apartment, her still at my legs. "Do yer know where Margret is?" i ask and as if on cue the middle-aged woman pops her head from around the corner of the kitchen.

"Oh Paul!" she smiles widely, being her usual polite self. "So nice to see you!" she greet and gives me a brief hug once i enter the kitchen where she was cooking. "Want dinner?" she asks but i shake my head softly in decline.

"No thanks, Marg." i say and watch as little Heather runs around in the hallway with her dolls. "I think i better take little girly home." i sigh and pull out my worn wallet. "How much do i owe yer for today, then?" i ask and the wrinkley-eyed woman smiles and waves her hand about dismissively.

"Two pounds, my dear, i couldn't ask any more of you. Baby-sitting Heather is too much of a joy." she grins and i take out ten pounds from my wallet. Heather had stayed for five hours while i was at work, and Margret was too lovely to take advantage of.

"Come on, kiddo." i smile wearily as the six year old rushes back into the kitchen. I place the money on the counter and pull little Heather on my hip, kissing her hair.

"Safe drive home, Paul, have a good night!" Margret calls from the kitchen as i walk to the door and help little Heather put her shoes on.

"Yer too!" i call back as i head out of the door.

Once we are back at home, little Heather's full-of-beans attitude is suddenly drained out and she yawns a little when i lead her to the door. "Pawlie?' she asks tiredly, rubbing her eyes with her small fists.

"Hmmm?" i hum in response as i throw my bags onto the floor and carry her upstairs.

"When will i see Dad?" she asks once we reach her room, and i tiredly pull off her shoes, throwing away them careless

"Next weekend, monkey." i sigh, winning parent of the year award when i tuck her in, still fully clothed in her food-stained top. "Night, love." i whisper and muster all my energy to smile at her, she smiles back brightly and holds out her tiny arms for me to hug. I lean down and hug her before standing, tucking her in and leaving the room.

My eyelids sag as i walk back down the stairs and to the living room. Ever since my session with George, i had not stopped running around. Whether it was going shopping or sorting out the insurance for the car, i felt so drained from today's events that not even my curiousity over George's case could keep me awake. Which was a first. Yet again everything about him was a first, and i couldn't seem to get the skinny fellow out of my head.

What was he going to say?

That was the last thought to rush through my head as i feel asleep on the sofa in my uncomfortable suit.

-

"This time, Mr. McCartney, we'd prefer if you would keep him in the room." the receptionist says as polietly as she can, though i could clearly tell she didn't like the look of me.

"As yer wish." i mutter and nod curtly her way as i walk off to the room i was sitting in breifly yesterday. I was half taken a back to see George already in the room, sitting and looking bored in the wooden chair.

His eyes prick up once i enter the room and his posture automatically straightens. "'Ello again." i greet and shake his hand once again. He nods with that same shy manner from yesterday and i sit down in the seat opposite his. I frown and stare at his face, noticing a purple and yellow swelling in his left eye. Sitting forward i brush away his unruly hair with my fingertips to get a closer look, but his chestnut orbs widen and he harshly swats away my hand. I unintentially jump a little at the sudden act, this being a new side of his personality so far. He had never acted so violently before.. Yet again, i had only met the lad once, and he was a murderer...