Eliot
I take one last drag from my cigarette before letting it drop to the ground, crushing it under my shoe. The scent of burnt tobacco mingles with the stench of filth and dried blood. I sigh. Two cigarettes weren’t enough.
I turn around and come face to face with Barry’s ugly mug. Fuck. He looks even worse since I smashed his face in, shattered his ankles, and sliced his tendons. The fat bastard knew I don’t do mercy. And yet, he still tried to scam me.
-So, Barry… thought you could screw me over ? I sneer.
He swallows loudly, his breathing ragged. Fear is written all over his swollen face.
-N-no, not at all! I just… I just need more time ! he stammers.
-Barry… You know we don’t do credit here. This isn’t your first order.
My voice is flat, tired. This kind of bullshit exhausts me. I sigh and, without warning, slam my knee into his balls. He screams and crumples to the floor, choking on his own sobs.
-Where’s my fucking money?
He curls up, unable to answer. Fucking waste of space. I shake my head and turn to Ishida.
-Take him to the clinic. Strip him of anything that can be sold.
-Understood,” he replies without flinching.
Two men step forward and drag Barry away. He screams, begs, makes promises. As if that would change anything. His cries echo for a moment before fading into the dark corridors of the warehouse.
-Get some rest, Ishida finally tells me.
I hesitate to snap at him. Like I do every time he pretends to care. But I don’t have the energy. It’s all an act anyway. No one gives a shit about me. The ones who did are dead, burning in hell while they wait for me. At least down there, I won’t need a lighter for my smokes.
I get home around three in the morning. The house is way too big for one person. Way too empty.
-Hey ! I call out without conviction.
Silence answers me. As always.
Two years. Two years since those bastards died and left me to run their fucking assassin network. Assholes.
I head up to my room. Four white walls, a bed, a nightstand. Nothing else. No posters, no desk, no photos. As if this room belonged to no one.
I collapse onto the mattress and almost immediately fall into a dreamless sleep. Almost.
The sun is shining. Birds are singing. And for the first time in a long while, I’m laughing—genuinely laughing.
-Kian, wait up! You’re too fast !
-Not my fault you’re slow, snail!
He laughs and suddenly stops. When I finally catch up, he jumps on me. His face, so close. His bright eyes. And that smile, goddamn… It’s been so long.
Then, he presses his lips to mine.
I’ll never get tired of that softness.
But it all ends in an instant.
Someone calls out to us. Kian freezes. His smile disappears. He steps back. He’s afraid of being seen.
I should understand. I do understand. But it still hurts.
He notices my disappointment. So he smiles again—wider, brighter, more beautiful. He speaks, but no sound comes out of his mouth.
Instead, I hear an alarm ringing.
I wake up drenched in sweat, breathing hard.
And with a fucking hard-on.
-Shit…
With a frustrated groan, I throw my phone onto the bed. I cross my arms over my knees and bury my head in them.
Even after all these years, I still think about that bastard. I’ll never forgive him.
My chest tightens. My breath catches. A wave of thoughts crashes against my skull. Memories flood in. Nightmares bleed into reality.
I need my meds.
My eyes scan the room. Nothing. Fuck. I fumble on the nightstand, the drawers, the floor. Nothing, nothing, nothing.
The pain becomes unbearable.
I have no choice.
I stagger to my feet and grab my emergency coke stash. My hands tremble, spilling some of the powder, but I don’t care. I snort a thick line.
Slowly, the panic recedes.
I slide down against the wall, curling up on the cold bathroom floor.
-Haha… I’m pathetic.
I stay there for what feels like hours.
In reality, only thirty minutes. I need air.
I grab my coat and head out.
The fresh air helps. A little. Just a little.
As I walk, I watch people. Kids playing. A group of high school girls giggling. An old couple holding hands. Two teenagers kissing, half-hidden behind a tree.
I should be jealous.
But I feel nothing.
If they’re happy, it means they deserve it.
If I’m like this, it means I deserve it too.
It takes me twenty minutes to reach the café. Not because it’s far, but because I spent the whole walk lost in my thoughts.
This café… I used to come here with my real parents. Not those fucking Finders. My real parents.
Their voices, their faces… I can’t remember them anymore. Time erased everything.
But this café is still here.
As soon as I step inside, the scent of warm pastries and freshly brewed coffee fills my nose. It’s soft. Almost soothing.
A waitress approaches immediately.
-Eliot! It’s been so long! You used to come here almost every day, then nothing for three months !
I force a smile.
-Work.
-Careful not to overdo it.
-Don’t worry.
Liar.
She slides a hand down my thigh, eyes full of suggestion.
-If you want… I can help you unwind.
I think about it. It’s been a while since I last fucked.
-I gue—
Laughter erupts across the room.
My body reacts before my brain does.
I turn toward the sound.
And I see him.
That fucking bastard.
