Knocked Up by the Killer

I turned and opened the refrigerator, grabbed a cold brew, popped it open, then turned on my phone.

Several texts appeared.Dante: You do it yet?

Dante: We can’t wait, you know.

Dante: Hey. Asshole. You’re supposed to check in by now.

Dante: If shit went wrong, you better cover your tracks.

Dante: Tanner. Call me when you get this.I smiled at that last one. The four before it were from the night before, but that last one was this morning. I guessed he slept a bit and calmed down in the meantime.

I hit the call button and put the phone on speaker. I sipped my cold brew and stared out over the city, at the blocky Philly row homes, broken up by school buildings and high-rises.

“I’ve been waiting to hear from you,” Dante said, and didn’t sound happy.

“Morning,” I said. “How was your night?”

“Cut the shit. Is she dead?”

“No,” I said.

Silence from him. I sipped my cold brew. It was bitter but nice.

“You’re joking, right? You make stupid jokes sometimes.”

“No joke,” I said. “I’m not going to kill her.”

“The Don’s paying you double to make this happen. Do you have any idea how pissed he’s going to be?”

“I don’t have any money yet,” I said. “No harm, no foul.”

“You wasted time. You took a job and backed out.”

“No harm, no foul,” I repeated.

“This is going to fuck up your reputation,” Dante said. “You’re making a big mistake. I’ll pretend like you didn’t say any of that if you can do the job tonight, but I’m serious, Tanner. No more of your weird shit.”

“Dante,” I said, and spoke really slow, like I was talking to a child, “I’m not going to kill the girl.”

Silence again.

Dante cursed.

“If you don’t do this then we’re sending someone else,” he said. “Is that what you want? One of your rivals to pick up your work?”

“Not really,” I said, swirling the cold brew. “But what else can I do?”

“Kill her.”

“Not happening.”

“You asshole,” Dante said, sounding exasperated. “What the hell happened last night?”

I tilted my head. “Maybe she doesn’t need to die,” I said. “Maybe we can just beat her up a little. You know. Break her legs. Send a message.”

“Are you joking now?”

“Nope,” I said. “She’s not involved with her father. Says she doesn’t talk to him.”

Dante was quiet. “You talked to her?” he asked.

“Took her out to dinner.”

“What the fuck?”

“I know,” I said. “Sick, even by my standards, but it sort of just happened. We matched on a dating website and the situation just sort of fell into my lap. Couldn’t help myself.”

“You could have, you know, just not taken her out.”

“Figured it would be a good way to get close.”

“But you were seen with her.” Dante let out a string of curses. “You could’ve been identified.”

“Maybe,” I said. “But I took her to one of your places.”

“You fucking bastard.”

“I figured that would be safe.”

“So, what, you’re in love with her now?”

I considered that. I’d never been in love before and didn’t really know what it would feel like. I didn’t think that was it, though.

“No,” I said. “In lust, maybe.”

“Holy shit. You fucked her.”

“I did,” I said. “You would’ve too, if you were me.”

“No, Tanner. I would’ve killed her, because that’s what my boss wants.”

“He’s not my boss,” I said. “Private contractor. Remember?”

“This is fucking insane,” Dante said. “Okay, fuck it. You won’t do it then I’ll send someone else.”

“Come on,” I said. “Spare the girl’s life.”

“Just because you’re pussy-whipped? No thanks.”

“Dante,” I said, feeling a strange surge in my chest. “I’m asking for a favor here. I’ve done some hard jobs for you and your boss over the years. I’ve taken a lot of shit for you all, killed more than a few very aggressive and very dangerous assholes. My hands are very, very dirty.”

“You don’t get favors,” Dante said. “Independent contractor, remember?”

“Leave the girl alone,” I said.

“We’re not going to,” Dante said. “And this conversation is over now.”

“Dante—”

He hung up.

I jabbed my finger at my phone and sent it skittering onto the floor. I clenched my jaw and threw back the rest of my cold brew. I walked over to the sliding door and threw it open. Wind tugged at the edges of my jacket as I stepped out onto the balcony.

Down below, people crawled along like ants.

Fucking hell. They were just going to send someone else to finish the job I started. But for some reason, the professional aspect didn’t bother me.

It was the girl.

I didn’t want her to die.

But I didn’t plan on ever seeing her again. I got my fun, got my taste, fucked her nice and rough and deep, and now I was done. That was how it always went.

I got my taste and moved on. Sure, sometimes I spoiled them in the process, bought some nice gifts and shit. But it always ended.