Hit And Sprint

eight

"Go to bed, Roy."

I glance at the man behind me. He had just realized that I was aware of his lurking.

I was sat in Robert's home office, keeping track of multiple camera feeds through his computer. That had already proved to be somewhat boring, so I had also opened a seperate tab to play online solitaire.

He lingers in the doorway behind me, asking, "You're just gonna stay up all night and watch these cameras?" The way he phrases it makes the idea sound ridiculous.

It probably was an outlandish thought to him, due to his shorter attention span. His job was always fast paced, due to the nature of quick business among families. Meanwhile, I was used to spending weeks at a time on one job. This was child's play.

"Now, what exactly did I say I was going to do?" I return.

He steps further into the room, leaning against the wall beside me. "Yeah, alright. It just seems boring," he defends.

He was somewhat right. If nothing happened on the cameras, the next eight hours would become tiresome. I would probably be ready to shoot myself by hour five, but, hell. It was all for a good reason. I had done it enough times before to know I would make it, anyways.

"I have solitare," I mutter, gesturing toward the screen. I could tell that it sounded like I was trying to convince myself of what I was saying as well. I just hoped that Roy wouldn't pick up on it.

He just cracks his usual pretty boy smile, joking, "That's what I mean by boring."

My lips set in a hard line, and I don't verbally respond. He had me there.

After a period of silence he readjusts his stance and becomes more serious, although laughter still plays at his tone. "C'mon, Ice, why are you doing this?" he questions, sounding baffled.

"Do you want your father to die in his sleep?" I retort, assuming that he was referring to me watching the video cameras. He may not have meant that, but if he didn't, it was up to him to specify.

He does exactly that, proving my assumption wrong. "No, I mean why are you helping us?"

I understood his confusion. I had done favors for him in the past, but nothing this big. And I wasn't huge on favors to start with.

So this, well... this was an anomaly.

I shrug, unsure of why I even made the choice I did. My gut had just told me to help. Eventually, I find a more intelligent way of phrasing that, stating, "You'd do it for me."

I knew that he would, in a heartbeat. He was all about the importance of family, and that's what I had been to him, ever since we met.

He pulls a smirk. "Aw, you care about me or somethin'?" He knew that he would get a harsh response, clearly wanting a rise out of me.

I give it to him without thinking twice, instantly shooting back, "You looking to gag on a fucking glock?"

"There's the charm," he loudly assures, rubbing his hand across his face to wipe off a grin, and taking a couple steps closer to me. "So, how exactly are you killing Smiley?"

He asked me that question as though I hadn't answered it before.

I raise the left side of my top lip, my nose scrunching along with it. "Told you. Point blank gunshot."

Roy's eyes roll. "Okay, specifically...?"

I understood the slight agitation. I normally knew where he was going with things, but when I felt like he was asking the same thing and expecting a different response, I occasionally gave a curt answer.