Killing for Carter

The first time I killed a man, I was fourteen.

He’d been my combat training instructor. A sleazy man by the name of Sebastian.

“That bastard, Sebastian.” My dad would call him whenever he decided to bring up the memory.

Dad hired Sebastian to start training me when I was twelve, and I’d noticed instantly the sickening way the man would look at me, the way his hands would linger and his overly affectionate tone.

Of course, I couldn’t say anything to Dad about how I felt. He would’ve either told me I was imagining things, that I thought too highly of myself, or he would’ve thought I was trying to get out of training. Either way, it was a conversation that wouldn’t have ended well for me, and besides, Sebastian never actually touched me in that way. It was just the way he made me feel that made me dread each session.

That day, my dad had come unannounced to see me train. Sebastian hadn’t noticed he was there as he stood behind me with his hands resting on my hips. He whispered instructions into my ear about the pistol I was firing, and anyone with two eyes would have noticed his flirtatious manner. I was used to him by that point. My dad had stalked over to us and torn him away from me.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” he asked, his deep voice spitting out the words. He drew his gun and pointed it at Sebastian’s head. “That’s my daughter. You gonna disrespect me like that? After everything I’ve done for you?”

Sebastian held his hands up in an attempt to portray his innocence. “Mr. Carter, you’re getting this all wrong. I have to be close to her when we’re training. I was just showing her the right stance—”

“Shut the fuck up!” My dad grabbed me by the arm, pulling me over to him roughly. “You think you need to be grinding up against her like that to show her how to point a fucking gun?” He turned to me. “Dani, shoot him.”

My eyes went wide. I couldn’t tell if this was some kind of test or if he was being serious. I looked between him and Sebastian, taking too long to respond, and received a hard slap around the back of my head for the delay.

“What are you fucking waiting for?! Has this asshole taught you anything, or have you been getting down on your knees for him the whole time? SHOOT HIM!”

I tried not to flinch as he screamed in my face. That would only make him angrier. Instead, I lifted my gun, pointed it at Sebastian’s head and fired before the man had time to plead his case.

I ignored the sick feeling in my stomach as his body slumped to the floor and I kept perfectly still. I couldn’t show any emotion. My emotions were the things that got me into trouble. It didn’t matter—He didn’t matter.

My dad snatched the gun from my hand and fired another shot into Sebastian’s chest before he threw it at him. When he turned back to me, his dark eyes were still full of rage. He pointed a finger in my face, and I tried to push my fear away before it could form tears in my own eyes.

“I expect you to behave professionally with the next instructor I get you. This is what happens when you ignore instructions and lose focus. What the fuck were you thinking—”

“Dad, I didn’t do anything—”

He slapped me across my cheek, my head snapping to the side as my eyes closed. Fighting the tears once more.

“DON’T LIE TO ME!” He turned away from me, exasperated. Running a hand through his dark hair that was beginning to show flecks of grey. This time, when he turned back, his face had softened.

 “Hey,” he said, the anger draining away from him. He came closer and embraced me. “You know I love you. I’m just trying to prepare you for your future, but I can’t do that if you’re not willing to put the work in, Dani.”

I kept quiet. There was no point trying to tell him anything. He’d just hit me again. He turned back to Sebastian’s body with his arm still around my shoulder.

“Hey, nice shot though. Right between the eyes!” He smiled as he glanced down at me. Taking me in with his eyebrows raised in appreciation of my efforts.

That was the look that I always sought after. Ever since I could remember, I had been chasing after my dad’s approval. If he was happy, I could be happy. I gave him a small smile as my cheeked throbbed.

That wasn’t the first time I had seen death, though. I was about ten when my dad started taking me with him on jobs.

“Better to get desensitised to it young,” he'd said.

My dad had been a hitman for most of his life, but now he ran the operations and sent others out to do the dirty work for him. I was one of his best contract killers. My small stature sometimes let me down physically—although it did come in useful for some jobs—but I was fast, silent. The marks were dead before they got a chance to fight back.

The desensitisation had worked. As had the years of vigorous training, both physical and mental. He never did get me another instructor after Sebastian. He did the job himself, and I guess I was grateful to him for his unconventional training methods. I was a cold-blooded killer.

I had my first solo job at age eighteen and in seven years I didn’t have a single spot on my record. Every job I had been given had been performed perfectly. Each completed assignment would earn me a smile and a nod from my dad and I’d know he was pleased with my work, but it was never enough to really make him proud of me. He would never let me be present at the client meetings. I was only called upon when the fine details had already been arranged.  It was like he was still waiting for me to earn his trust.

The men who worked for my dad knew not to stare, or even talk to me more than absolutely necessary. Except, of course, for Ethan.

Ethan had worked for my dad for over twelve years. He was Dads most trusted man, and he got away with a bit more when it came to me. I hated him. He was like an annoying older brother, always getting involved in my business, and he loved nothing more than getting me into trouble with Dad.

Ethan always got to go to the meetings. Ethan was the one whispering in my dad’s ear telling him I wasn’t ‘the right fit’ for a particular job. Ethan was allowed to belittle me. He’d track my every move, and if he caught me doing anything he didn’t deem ‘beneficial’, he’d run straight to my dad. I couldn’t even do something as simple as go shopping without Ethan stalking me. How could my dad trust him more than me?

I sat on the balcony of our penthouse apartment in Tribeca, New York. Staring out across the bustling city, I could just make out the tiny forms of cars passing over the Brooklyn Bridge. My dad had gone to meet with a client at the restaurant he owned.

I’d worked there a few times before I was fully trained in the real family business. It was tedious work. Normal people’s lives were so mundane. I had equal amounts of pity and jealousy for them, though I’d never admit to the latter out loud.

The only good thing about the times I helped out there was that I’d got to eavesdrop on some of my dads meetings. Although I never heard anything particularly interesting, I’d made a mental note of how my dad conducted himself, preparing myself for the day when he’d finally let me sit by his side and prove my worth in the organisational side of our work.

My phone rang, pulling me abruptly from my thoughts. Ethan’s name flashed on the screen and I groaned.

“What the fuck does he want?” I muttered to myself as I swiped the screen to answer the call.

“Yeah?”

“Dani, your father needs you to come to the restaurant. We have most of the details of your next job finalised but. . .” He hesitated. “He wants your input on a few things.”

A wide grin spread across my face. I was ecstatic that my dad wanted my opinion on something, but the best part of this news was that Ethan was giving it to me, and it was obviously killing him.

“I’ll be right there.”

I made it to the restaurant in under fifteen minutes, a new record possibly. Ethan was waiting outside for me. As usual, he was overdressed in a black suit and tie, his strawberry-blonde hair slicked back, and his green eyes covered with a pair of sunglasses.

“Someone’s eager.” He looked down at me with a mocking expression stuck on his pale face.

“Ethan.” I nodded. “Looking inconspicuous, as always.”

He ignored my comment and grinned as he chewed a piece of gum. “He’s in the meeting room waiting for us. Don’t get too excited, it’s not so much your opinion he’s interested in, he only wants to know if you’re mentally up to this job.”

Why wouldn’t I be mentally up to a job?

I thought.

A job is a job.

 I pushed past Ethan, not bothering to answer him, and went to find my dad.

He was sitting at the table in one of the small private rooms that were set aside for business meetings. The soft lighting reflected off the polished oak table and gave the pale terracotta walls a warm glow.

The lighting did nothing however, for my dad’s ageing face. It made the lines in his forehead seem deeper, and the circles under his brown eyes darker. He always looked dangerous, but something about the ambiance of the room seemed to accentuate his menacing glare. I guess that’s what he was going for.

“Danielle.” He addressed me using my full name. Usually, he only did that through clenched teeth when I was about to receive some form of punishment, but the small smile on his lips was affectionate and told me I wasn’t in trouble.

I sat down opposite him and waited for him to speak. Ethan sat down in the chair by his side, and I avoided looking at him in case my face betrayed me with a jealous glare.

“I’ll get straight to the point,” he said. “The client we just had in here wants us to take out Aaron Daly, Michael Daly’s son.” His eyes flicked up to mine to assess my reaction. I tried to remain impassive, but I could feel the anger burning through my eyes.

Michael Daly killed my mother. He was the head of another group of contract killers. Our rivals.

My dad had told the story of my mom’s death so many times, I felt like I could see it all happening in my mind. Though I’d only been two when she died, so I had no real recollection of it. Michael Daly had stormed my dad’s restaurant when it opened back in the year 2000. Twenty-three years had passed since then, but my dad could still recount every detail of the painful memory. A lot of his friends and family got killed that day. I ran when the shooting started and my mom had chased after me, instead of escaping through the back door like she was supposed to. I’d led her right into the path of the Daly’s, and she'd stopped the bullets meant for me with her own body.

My dad had told me many times that he’d initially blamed me for the death of my mom. Even going so far as to burn all of our family pictures. He couldn’t bring himself to look at me for a year or so after. I had her deep blue eyes, and it’d been too painful for him to look into them.

Eventually, his heart softened and he’d forgiven me. Deep down, I knew this was the real reason why I was kept out of a lot of business matters. He said he’d forgiven me, but even though I was just a child back then, I’d still taken her away from him, and I knew he just couldn’t bring himself to ever truly love me.

This job could potentially be my redemption. I could avenge my mom by killing the son of the man who shot her. Maybe then my dad would be able to look at me with real pride in his eyes. Maybe then he’d truly love me instead of just pretending to out of a sense of duty.

“When?” I asked. I already knew it had to be me that did this. I just needed the details, so I could make sure this went as smoothly as all my other assignments.

My dad smiled. “Normally, with personal situations such as this, I’d have someone not affiliated with the target, but”—he shrugged—“I think in this case I could make an exception. What I need to know is, are you up to this?”

I stared into his eyes, willing him to feel the weight of my words.

“Aaron Daly is a dead man walking.”

He smiled again. “Tomorrow night, he’ll be on a hit of his own at a club on twenty-sixth.”  

So, Michael’s son was in the family business too, not just some crook like most of my other targets. I smiled at the thought of a challenge.

“Go avenge your mother, Dani.” My dad’s eyes were already looking back down at the paperwork in front of him. “Don’t let me down.”