“Fuck, finally dickwad, you decide to turn up.” He throws a used coffee cup at me. I catch it then biff it back at him.
“Fuck you. I was busy.”
“Doing?” he says while wiggling his fucking eyebrows at me.
“A job, dick.” I sit down against the wall with the wind whipping around us.
“This is fucking miserable,” I say as Jimmy pulls his knees up to his chest puffing on a cigarette.
“Ya fucking think?” His eyes go to my knuckles bloodied with bruising setting in.
“Easy one?” he asks me as I pour a hot brew from the flask by his feet into a plastic cup easy to burn, so we leave no fingerprints.
“Yup. In two days’ time, I’ll be back, and he’d best have the remainder.”
“Oh, so no kill. You’re going soft.”
“Never.”
His eyebrow rises in question. This time I shake it off and take my smokes from my pocket.
“What did the riddle say?”
We all like to read the old man’s riddles.
Taking the card from my pocket he takes it from me.
Is maith liom è seo ach pian an chinniuint nò an è an fáth go bhfuil tu mall? Amanna anseo a thagann sé
Riddle me this. Is pain just an illusion of fate or is it the reason you’re late? Times up here he comes.
His head goes back in laughter.
“The old man is good. I’ll give him that. Was he waiting?”
“Well when I kicked in his door, he fell back hard and fast. I really didn’t give him time to think too much.” Stubbing my smoke out I sipped my coffee as Jimmy passed back the card.
“Right, as much as I like watching these dick bags and assisting in your vendetta against these piss bags, my dick needs to be sucked.” He stands and slaps me on my back.
“Catch ya in the AM,” he says grabbing his backpack.
“Thanks, bro,” I say my eyes watching the compound across the street. Times running out Damon. I am coming for you.
I should have never hesitated in killing him those first weeks that I found him. The nights I watched him go about like a god, no like the king of kings, drinking from the cup of sin while lining his pockets with the street’s gold.
So many times, I could have just put a bullet in his skull.
Quick.
Clean.
And easy, oh so easy.
Well, semi-clean.
Blood still splatters regardless.
But it’s the games I like to play that keep him alive. For now, at least.
I’m waiting for the delivery van we use to deliver the bouquets at all random hours and places. The wind howls as the rain whips in around me. I pull my jacket further around my ears, settling in to watch the great man squirm.
Looking at my watch, the delivery is right on time. He places the bouquet on the steps of the compound. The guard opened the gates without hesitation. Blood will be shed for that rookie move. Hitting the call bell then walking back to the van, he’s driving off as Damon comes to the door. I get to look at him dressed in a royal blue suit, gold tie and black shoes. Always the same. I wonder if he kept the suit he killed my father in, or did he discard it as easily as he took his life. He looks around, the look of dread hitting his features, knowing too well what this is. I see him pale as he rips the card from the center of the wreath.
Is maith liom…. Tagann sè an là an dorchaclas ar oicheanta oighreata agus là geal. Tagann sè go dti na cathain agus na leapacha leapa. Tithe agus ď áit oibre. Nuar a thagann se, tagann sè ina aonar, deanann sè sciath ar guhalainn, ansin tà sé imither cè he….?
Riddle me this… He comes to bedsides, icy bridges, battlefronts, and crumbling ridges. When he comes, He comes alone, taps a shoulder, then is gone. Who is he…..?
His eyes dart around his compound as his body shakes. He knows someone’s watching, but he has no clue who. You see him try and think… search his mind for clues as to who, why, what, when and where. He would never guess. That’s the thing about a man like him, he has many enemies. The difference though between them and me? I am careful, cold, and calculated. I am filled with a hate that turned into a sick passion to hurt him and all that he loves. I have yet to see a wife or kids. Doesn’t surprise me though, as a man like that only loves himself.
He screams for his men and they all come running. The flowers get picked up and the door slammed. I laugh to myself as I check all my gear in my bag and light one more cigarette. Taking a long drag, the welcome burn of the smoke fills my lungs. I check that my Ruger is loaded and ready to go. I flick the safety, then stuff it into the waistband of my jeans. I pull a plain black hoodie over my t-shirt and stuff my jacket into the duffle bag. Grabbing my balaclava from inside the bag, I roll it over my face so my eyes and mouth are the only visible parts. The rain has set in which is good. It will help mask some of my movements - not all, but some of them at least. Stealing one last look over toward the compound I see they are all busy running around the compound. It’s in high alert and I can’t help but laugh. Playing with him is satisfying. The outside lights all get flicked on and men are positioned at windows where you can see their silhouettes. Next stage of fuck with Damon is send him a message from inside his compound. Two men tonight should be good. Last week it was one. That quelled my bloodlust for this fucker for 7 days. Two should give me two weeks at least. I need to find out more about the young girl with the sad eyes.
I take the same exit as Jimmy as the back is quicker to the adjoining street that gives me access to the back of his compound. The rain pelts down on my skin and the wind loud as the sky lights up with lightning strikes as thunder erupts. This is good. Pulling my rope from my bag, I unwind it from around the steel grip and throw it over the concrete pulling back until it bites into the wall on the other side. I crack my shoulders and neck before I pull myself over the wall. At the top, my hands find shards of glass and barbed wire embedded into the concrete and a hiss leaves me as my skin is pierced from the wire. I suck the blood from my skin as I unhook the rope and throw it back over the other side so that my escape route is ready for when I need to run.
Waiting… Timing my next jump for when the skies open with a clap of thunder. It bellows out and I jump falling into the roses below. Taking deep breaths in and out I try to calm it down to a slower pace, so I can hear any noise around me. Slowly I move from the bushes staying concealed in the shadows of the garden, not wanting any lighting strike to light me up. Men are walking back and forward past the windows and the door into the house. I don’t need to enter; I just need to get close enough to take the two men out and leave their blood on his front step with another riddle.
Slipping through the dark of the garden taking slow controlled breaths, I come up behind the first guy. I grab him around the back of the head, my blade slicing a fast, thick line around the front of his throat and a warm pool of blood drips down over my blade to my fingers as he falls back unaware of what just happened. Falling to the ground his eyes meet mine before the glaze of death wash over them. Crouching down over him I watch as the blood drains from his throat. It’s a small slice that’s opened up with a river of crimson running over the ground in front of him. My body hums with the kill, the bloodlust feeling alive. This makes me feel alive. I change from a dead man to half-beast while feeding on the feeling. The smell that lingers in the air and the mercury taste sitting on the top of your tongue while drawing small designs in the blood as my eyes scan the area for my next victim.