V is for Violet

Violet

“You’re not really going to kill me, sweetheart,” Bill Pfeiffer said. He didn’t bother holding his bleeding foot, instead just leaning back on his elbow in the center of the room. A light above us flickered, but I wasn’t paying much attention to our surroundings. I was here, at my end goal, and finding an escape route was no longer important.

“I am, and you know it,” I told the man on the floor, still holding my gun’s sites steadfast between his eyes. “That’s why you’re not bothering to stop the bleeding from that hole in your ankle.”

Bill Pfeiffer let out a cold, humorless laugh, and I clenched my teeth. It was the same laugh I’d heard come from him that night just two years ago.

“I have a family,” he told me, but there was no emotion in his eyes as he pretended to plead for his life. He was just biding time, hoping someone would stop me before I pulled the trigger.

“No, you don’t,” I corrected. “You have an estranged brother, and a cat. But I’d kill you regardless.”

“You gonna kill my cat too?” he asked bitterly. “Just to spite me?”

The door on the far wall busted open then, but I didn’t look up to see who it was. It didn’t matter; it’d all be over before anyone had the chance to stop me. But out of curiosity, I focused my peripheral vision on the intruders. Six men, all with guns, but none of them were pointing at me yet. That was good. Bought me some time. Not that I’d need much.

Bullets are fast.

“No,” I told Bill, who now wore a smug expression. How cute. He thought he had a chance. “Your cat— Fiskars, if I’m correct— didn’t kill my sister. So, he goes free.”

“At least you do your research. What about these men surrounding you?” Bill motioned with his hand, but my eyes didn’t waver. “The men who ordered me to kill your daddy dearest. What about them?”

“Nothing,” I replied, pushing my hair over one shoulder with a quick shrug. “My bastard of a father got what he deserved. He shouldn’t have gotten involved with the mafia if he wasn’t willing to hold up his end of things. My sister, on the other hand, was not involved.” I took a step closer to Bill. “No one told you to kill her. No one ordered you to kill a four-year-old girl. You did that because you’re a sick son-of-a-bitch. And you deserve to die like one.”

“Sir,” I heard someone say to the left of me. “Should we intervene?”

“Wait until I say,” was the response. As if they could stop me now.

“So what?” Bill smirked. “You’re going to kill the Salvaggi Family’s best hitman and just walk away?”

I smiled sweetly and tilted my head to the side. “Walking away was never in the plan.” I was close enough to my target now that I could see the barrel of my gun reflected in his eyes. “But let’s cut to the chase. I’m going to kill you. So, if you have any last words, now would be the time to say them.”

Bill Pfeiffer opened his mouth to speak, and that’s the precise moment when I decided to pull the trigger.