Seduce & Destroy - Page 83
His lifted. “Having the enemy in the palm of your hand? Isn’t that thrilling?”
“Well,” I shrugged. “It’s not my first.”
“Too true, Kil, you were our breadwinner.”
One side of my mouth lifted but it was sad. All my life I threw myself into these missions, swearing up and down that I was capable, and I was, yet I always thought I’d find some relief from completing each mission. However, after each job, I returned emptier than the last time and already itching for the next one.
Maybe next time. After this one. When it’s done.
None of those words brought me comfort. I hung my head between my shoulders.
“So, like,” Malachi began, “Aim for the head?”
I jumped up. “What?!” Then, I saw the gun in his hand. “No.”
“It’s my job!”
“Well, Daddy thinks you’re kinda slacking at your job, so he sent me.” He seemed oddly proud of that.
I covered his hand on the gun with mine. “You can’t.”
“But–”
“No, not yet.” No solid reason came to me, just that it didn’t feel right. “Let him suffer a bit more.”
“Come on, Kil, he’s basically braindead in there.” He swung the gun around carelessly out of my grip.
“Hey, hey,” I held up my hands. “Malachi, careful, I will take care of it.”
“Kilina, Daddy lost his patience with you. You already failed the family by not shooting him already. It could’ve been a far less bloody takeover if you had.”
“Don’t tell me that!” My voice fraught with desperation. “You don’t understand.”
“You know,” He interrupted. “I always thought I’d have to psyche myself up more to take a life, but there’s no weight on my shoulders here.” His eyes darkened as his shoulders paralleled mine. “You know why?”
Can I be anywhere else, please. I didn’t respond.
“He didn’t think twice about us.”
My eyes fell shut. I knew the truth.
“Flicked that match like it was an ordinary Tuesday afternoon. Should we ask grandmother what she thinks about this?”
“No,” I mumbled.
“That’s right, I can’t, because she’s fucking dead. You saw the tape.”
That woke me up. “Malachi, Malachi, I can do it. Please, just give me one day.”
“I don’t trust you.” He admitted. Our eyes met. Malachi had always had faith in me, his disbelief pulled a needle from a grenade and a tear fell from my eye.
“One day,” I promised. “One day and his guts will be five miles away from his head. Please.”
“Okay.”
The gun clattered on the floor and discharged on contact.
I didn’t scream. Barely flinched. The bullet clinked on the concrete. Through blurred vision, I saw Malachi walk away from me. The disappointment crushing.