Shadow of the Past

A midnight run for a glass of water brings more than she expected ...

Time slowed as I stared down the barrel of a gun held by a man once trusted, once loved.  Calder Haze.  The odd thing was it wasn’t the gun my brain couldn’t process; it was the fact that he was the one pointing it.  The fact he had been the one sent to kill me.  That he’d accepted the job in the first place.

             The ticks of the wall clock stretched out as we stood there in my run down kitchen; him holding the gun, me holding a glass of water.  His arm began to shake slightly but not from the weight of the piece.  I’d seen Calder hold heavier weapons for much longer.

            Letting out a long stretch of breath, he closed his eyes.  When his eyes opened again, he gave me a chilling smile. My hand tensed round the glass I held.

This was it, my brain screamed.  The moment my life would end.  I wanted to ask him why but, instead, I closed my eyes and craved the darkness.  His face greeted me there too.  Not the killer face he wore right now, but one from a distant past.  My throat tightened from the memory.

‘Nice pjs.’

The sudden intrusion of his voice made me jump. Water spilled over my hand and onto the floor.  It wasn’t until my heart slowed down that the words registered.

‘That’s all you can-’ I opened my eyes.

The b*****d had disappeared.  I peeked out to the lounge.  He wasn’t there.

‘In the bedroom, Bex,’ Calder called out. ‘Bring alcohol.’

White hot anger began to build up inside me but I managed to push it down.  He still had a gun after all.  Mine were in the chest in my room.  For now, I had to play it cool.

With a brandy in each hand, I walked the short distance to my room.  Now the shock had worn off, my brain no longer wanted to meekly accept defeat.  First chance I got, I was taking him out. 

He was sitting on my weapons chest, smirking.  Damn him!  I handed him a glass and wondered over to my bed.   I let my hand shook slightly as I took a sip of the brandy.  He scoffed at the movement, not fooled one bit.  So much for misleading. 

‘Didn’t I teach you to always carry a piece?’

I took another sip, hand now still.  He watched the action like a hawk.  It wasn’t until I’d finished the contents that he spoke again.

‘Ready to talk yet?’

Placing the empty glass on the bedside table, I allowed myself to truly look at my would-be assassin.  He was wirier then he was when I fled two years ago.  His pale skin had a grey tone to it and there were bags under his pale blue eyes. 

‘I’ve got all night, Bex.  I’ve got nowhere else to be.’ 

‘Why would you when I’m the job?’

‘Don’t get snippy.’

‘You pointed a gun in my face!’

‘But I didn’t pull the trigger.  Yet.’

I stared at him, dumbfounded.  Did he honestly think that the fact he was warning me gave him points?  I wanted him gone.

He casually swirled the glass in his hand, not quite meeting my eye.

‘Curious why I’m warning you?’

‘Actually I’m more curious about why you took the hit to begin with.’

He looked into his brandy, ‘I thought the payment was large enough,’ he knocked it back, not pausing until he drank every last drop.

 ‘ Should have known it wasn’t enough.’

 Silence formed around us yet again.  He returned to staring into the now empty glass. When he finally turned his gaze upon me, I saw the war he was having within. I wanted to offer him comfort.  We’d been through so much together; how could I not?  But when his eyes iced over, I stayed rooted to the spot.

‘Don’t think this is over.  If they up the bid, I’ll be back tomorrow night.’

‘Why are you telling me this?’

He gave me a sad smile, ‘I owe you that much at least.’

The room fogged up around him.  Water touched my cheek and I realised with a start I was crying.  I haven’t cried since that night …

‘Don’t,’ he closed the distance between us, cupping my face.  That made me worse.

Swearing softly, he pulled me into him.  I tensed. Sighing, he released me, pulling back to look down at me.

‘Why would I warn you, only to knife you?’

He stood and turned his back on me.  He was giving me the chance to end it now, to end him.  I didn’t move.  All I could do was sit on my bed and let the tears fall.   When he reached the door way, he turned.

 ‘You should have taken the shot when you had the chance.’ 

I didn’t know who he was speaking to; me or himself.  

Reviews

[5924]

i really enoyed this please write more like this

[Emrick]

Nice story. .This days you cant trust even your lover.Everybody is scheming,some legally some illegally.I have seen women paying robbers to rob their lovers. It's more of a drama than life.