Sufferable Acceptance

Five

Amelia

I spent most of the morning packing up a few suitcases for a new job on the West Coast. I avoided having to travel to the West Coast as much as possible, but I couldn't turn down an offer like this.

From what my client shared it would be a clean job with little risk. I was asked to send a message to an old employee of my client. It was impossible not to accept. I packed light in hopes that I would spend less than a week there. I knew where my hit was going to be on Wednesday. The issue was getting them alone. That's what I hated about California. Any and every event wasn't complete without 15 photographers capturing the whole night. If my plan worked I could grab Mr. Evans from the event before he even took a step in the Gala.

Mr. Evans had been a busy man these past few years. It wasn't until my clients' books started to show inconsistent numbers did they guess someone who worked for them had been stealing from them. The tip from an angry lover also led my client into the right direction of the culprit. What I just couldn't understand is what Mr. Evans wasted his money on. If I had gotten away with stealing money from a big name corporation for two years I wouldn't waste that money on women and tacky boats. The craziest thing about it all was that one of those women who felt "under-appreciated" blew his great scheme. He could have probably gotten away with the whole thing if only he learned how to keep it in his pants.

Sometimes I felt bad. It was against the rules to feel remorse or guilt about my work, but some victims were so pitiful it made my life harder. Oh well, it wasn't my call to make. I didn't get to decide whether this man was worthy of his punishment. All I had to do was execute said punishment.

Maybe a trip to the beach would be a good thing. It was almost the end of summer, New York would start to get colder and who knew when I would get to enjoy the sun again. Plus, the trip would be a good distraction from... him.

No, stop. You agreed you wouldn't get attached to him. You made a deal when you left the bar with him that it was a one night thing. You promised Amelia. The only reason you're missing him is because he laid on that Italian charm. Anyone can be a charismatic, lovable sweetheart for a night. The reason relationships haven't worked out in the past is because of what happens after that first night. Besides, it doesn't take a genius to know your professional careers are incompatible. How would you even break the news to him? You come home from a long day of work, stroll into his office and say oh sweetie by the way did I mention I was a freelance assassin? But don't worry as long as you don't cross me or end up on a clients hit list I'm sure we won't run into any problems!

Plus, even if you could go back to him and make things work there was no chance of finding him. For a purely professional reason, and not to just look at that smile one more time, you were unable to find him. He was off the grid, just like me, and something told me his choice to be off the grid was intentional. I wasn't going to dig into this man's life just because he was good in bed, and gave me butterflies at the thought of his touch.

With that thought, I looked at the clock, zipped up my bags and headed to the airport. Getting some distance between me and New York might just be the best thing for me.

*****

"Please, no, it was a mistake.. Tell Joseph I'm sorry it won't happen again, please just stop whatever this is" Mr. Evans pleaded, coughing up blood.

"A mistake? You expect us to believe it was a mistake? You stole from your company for two years straight, and never missed a cash out date. What kind of idiot accidentally swipes a couple grand each month from their work?" I questioned.

"I spoke to Joseph over the phone" I said, dragging a knife down Mr. Evans already severely cut forearm. "He said what upset him the most was the fact you couldn't admit what you've done to his face. He was willing to give you a chance at forgiveness, but last week in Tampa you swore left and right you had done nothing wrong. You said, and I quote "how could I steal from a man that has been nothing but good to me?" He said you were a lot of things, a liar, a cheat, a bad husband, but he never pegged you for a coward. Part of my job Mr. Evans, is completing any special requests the client may have, and ya know what he told me? He said he wanted it to hurt. He wanted you to suffer, he said that whatever I could do to you wouldn't be enough justice. I get the feeling he's really upset about the whole situation" I said before stabbing the knife into his thigh.

I had been at this for a few hours, and I was starting to get bored. Mr. Evans was lucky I was getting tired and was ready to end it. The pain to his thigh was almost enough to make him pass out again, but I knew if I let him slip into unconsciousness he would be out for a while and I was getting impatient. I was right, this vacation was a great distraction from my problems in New York.

I had managed to snag Mr. Evans right from the parking lot of the Gala he was supposed to attend. My client was right, all it took was a skin tight dress to distract Mr. Evans from his evening at the event. This poor man was in my car in under three minutes. It really was quite sad how easy it was, but there was no more feeling sorry for this man. It was time to end it. It was easy getting him away from his charity event, but I knew that soon someone would notice him missing.

"How do you want to end this Mr. Evans? I'm feeling generous tonight so I'll let you pick. Trust me this is a great honor, it's rare to get to choose. My personal favorite is the pottery wire. It's messy when it cuts through the neck, but it leaves a sharp clean cut that leaves clients satisfied with the pictures. Or you can choose the gun. Now this one tends to be a favorite among men. I find they like to go out with a bang. It's very theatrical to say the least. So, which one, Mr. Evans?" I asked.

"NO NO PLEASE YOU CAN'T" he begged one final time, "I have a wife, I have kids, I promise I will live like a saint from here on out. You can't do this, you can't. Just let me go, it will be our little secret, he'll never know. I swear if you let me go you'll never see me again, I'll vanish, PLEASE just this once, let me go, I'm not worth it!" Mr. Evans stuttered.

"Ah.." I said with a calm grin, "There it is, the classic bargain. Tell me Mr. Evans, what exactly would you do? Would you take your family and run, go into hiding? No.. no, I bet you'd fly solo. No point in your family slowing you down or causing issues for you. I bet you'd hide somewhere south, somewhere that made you feel safe, secure. I'm guessing you even already had a back up in place because there was a little voice in your head that told you that this was inevitable. You knew it was only a matter of time before you got caught right? Your boss was right.." I said as I stood behind Mr. Evans, tightening the wire around his neck, "you are a coward."

In one fast motion, and with plenty of blood spatter, the Mr. Evans problem was taken care of.

So much for being an easy job. I forgot how freaking exhausting torture was.

I made a mental note to start charging an hourly rate for my work, and I headed out of the warehouse as quickly as I had shown up.