I pull my truck up in the dark alley outside a fast food restaurant. This is where the agency has arranged the meeting between Nadia and myself. I feel that old familiar rush race through me again.

There’s nothing I love more than the start of a fresh, new project, and for some reason this particular job seems even more intense. I have a feeling this job is going to be special, that it’s going to affect my life in some way, and the anticipation has me so excited I’m having a hard time sitting still. I haven’t been this keyed up since I first started in this line of work.

I see a woman hunched over, staring at the ground. She looks absolutely petrified, so I assume it’s her—Nadia. A lot of new clients expect us to be really scary men when they meet us, all tattooed and covered in scars, threatening, but that isn’t usually the case. Of course, we can be intimidating when we need to be, but I’m only interested in scaring the bad guys, the ones who deserve it. The ones I’m being paid to kill.

I have no intention of frightening this woman.

One new client told me he’d assumed I’d come with a voice changer and my face covered, truly hiding my identity. Of course, I can see the reasoning behind that, but what would be the point? Why hide something criminal when we’re all involved? If I were to get in shit, they would go down too for ordering the hit.

“Hello,” I say quietly as I approach her, trying to keep my presence as benign as possible. “Would you prefer to talk outside or in my car?” I prefer to be locked away with some protection from listening ears, but it isn’t really up to me. I want her to feel comfortable. The last thing I want to do is freak this woman out after all she’s going through with that ape of husband. I may not know the details, but I know if it’s bad enough she wants him dead and is desperate enough to do something about it—it’s pretty fucking bad.

“In the car, please,” she replies, to my relief. “It’s cold out here.”

I open the door for her, and she gets in my rented car. Right away, I drive around the block before entering a dark parking garage. One I know doesn’t have any cameras.

“It’s best if we’re not seen together,” I explain and she nods, agreeing with me on that front.

Once I put the vehicle in park I turn to her and begin my spiel. I’m all business. “Okay, to start with, I want you to know that I’ve read all the details, so I know everything you’ve told the agency already.”

She nods slowly and I continue, “And the first thing I want to confirm is that you’re still happy to proceed with the transaction. I know it might be scary, so I just want to know where your head is before we go too deep into this.”

“Okay,” her breaths are labored, and I can tell that she’s panicked. I find I have an inappropriate urge to reach out and touch her. Thank God I catch myself before I do. Physical contact with a client is not allowed, I’m not supposed to engage with this woman beyond the transaction in any way. Our relationship must be kept strictly business, for both her safety and mine.

She’s speaking, but I’m having a difficult time listening to her because it’s just registered with me how beautiful she is. “Yes, I think so. I mean... yeah.”

“You don’t sound sure.”

“I am.” She turns to face me full on and there’s an angry red mark staining her cheek. That really winds me up. She’s been hit recently and yet she’s still debating whether or not she should end this fucker?

I did a little more research on her husband, on them both really, and I know for a fact now that this piece of garbage is involved in a lot of criminal shit. Selling drugs to kids and beating his wife. This guy is a piece of work. Fucking disgusting.

“Well, if that’s the case, I will get it done, and it will be quick. I’ll be finished by the end of the week.”

Her face pales, but I keep going. She needs to understand exactly what this entails—it isn’t a game. This is real, and she needs to get that. “So you need to make a plan. When I actually go through with this, you need to be somewhere else, and you’ll have to act natural the entire time. Do you think you can do that?”

She bites her lip, but nods her assent.

“You’ll need to be somewhere you go regularly, where people know you so you’ll have a solid alibi. Afterwards, you might be brought in as a suspect and you’ll need to have people who know your face, who recognize you say where you were.”

“Okay,” she practically whispers. She’s shaking, and I honestly wonder how she ended up here. She strikes me as the least likely person to get involved with business like this, and I can’t help but be intrigued as to how she ended up here. I want to know more about her, but I can’t indulge my idle curiosity.

“I know that’s a lot to process, but you really need to know what you’re getting yourself in for. I just want you to be prepared.”

I can already see her backtracking before she even opens her mouth. “I... I... I don't know. Maybe I should just try and talk to Damien first. Maybe I should just try speaking to him about everything...”

“It looks like you already tried that,” I say firmly. “And it didn’t work out so well.”

She looks confused, and I point at her cheek.

She cringes.

A tenderness swells inside me and again I feel the urge to wrap my arms around this vulnerable woman. There’s something about her that makes me want to protect her. Underneath all the pain and the damage that’s been caused to her from her shitty marriage, I see a true beauty—a woman any man would be lucky to have. What the hell is her idiot fucking husband doing?

Her long dark hair is pulled back and I imagine she looks amazing when it’s hanging loose. Her eyes are an interesting blue that’s almost violet, and she has the high, well-defined cheek bones of a model. She’s got her body covered up under layers of clothing, but I imagine it’s incredible what she’s hiding under there...

Whoa, wait! Stop thinking like that, I scold myself. You cannot think about her in any kind of sexual way. Stop it, stop it now.

“I know this isn’t going to be easy,” I force myself to focus on the matter at hand. “But if your statement is true and he’s threatened you every time you’ve asked for a divorce, then what other option do you have? I know men like your husband. I know what they’re capable of and how this always ends up. It’s either you or him... I guess it’s up to you who you want it to be.”

She’s mulling this over so I deliver my final pitch. It’s not like I’m desperate for this contract—plenty of others will come my way—I’m just not keen with the idea of sending this stunning woman back to her horrible husband without a plan in place. “Don't you want more for yourself? Don't you envision a better future for yourself?”

“I... yeah, I don't know,” she shakes her head. “Can I have some time to think about it?”

I sigh sadly, wishing that the outcome could be different, but at the same time I know for a fact that if I push her any further, she’ll run away even faster. She’s spent a long time cooped up in her shell, I can see that, and I don't want to spook her. We are talking about murder, and most people don’t take it lightly.

“Of course,” I finally say. “Let me give you my cell phone number, and you can contact me whenever you decide. Just... don't take too long okay? Don't give him time to find anything out.”

“I won’t,” she replies, handing me her phone to type in my digits. When I hand it back to her our eyes meet. It isn’t much, but something passes between us, and it’s intense. There’s a connection there, something that has my stomach fluttering like a schoolboy, and I have to remind myself to remain professional.

For a millisecond, I want to offer her a ride home, but that would be a stupid move. If my car was to be seen anywhere near her property it would raise suspicion before I could even complete the job. As much as I don't like to have to drop her off on the side of the street and just drive away, that’s what I have to do. It’s in both of our best interests.

“Okay,” I say, pulling up about twenty yards from where I picked her up. “Will you be all right from here?”

“Yes.” She stares at me with fear in her eyes. I wish there was something I could say to make her feel better, something I could do to reassure her, but I’ve got nothing. This is a decision that she alone needs to make. I can’t push her to do something she doesn’t want to do and will have to live with for the rest of her life. “Thank you.”

As I drive home, my mind goes back to one of the guys who used to work at the agency. Paul was there when I first started. He made the fatal mistake of falling for the woman who hired him. He fell for her hard and fast, and in the end it affected his performance on the job.

The woman changed her mind, but Paul wanted to be with her so he tried to push her into letting him complete the hit. In the end not only did the bitch change her mind, she ended up turning things around and getting her husband to kill Paul instead.

I shuddered at the memory. Of course somebody from our agency took the guy out, but Paul was dead just the same. I sure as shit didn’t want to really don't want to end up like that. To be sure I don’t I’ve got to be careful with this one. Nadia is already taking up way too much of my energy.

She’s just another client. Make sure she stays that way.

Nadia doesn’t look like the kind of woman who has her own money. She’s too timid for that, so I’m concerned she may have stolen the $80,000 to pay for the hit from the bastard himself. And if he figures it out…he’ll probably kill her.

I hope she makes her decision before that happen…

I’m already more invested in this woman than I should be, but I don't want her to end up dead. The poor kid doesn’t deserve to die. She seems like a sweet person who really needs this second chance, and if I can give that to her, it justifies my line of work somewhat. I’ll feel even better about it when I finally get paid my cut...

Shit, I’m going to end up in so much trouble...I can feel it in the marrow of my bones.