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One: Marvin alias Azrael
“Listen, I just can’t hang out tonight, baby.” I said lying like a conniving snake.
“I know. Every time we start getting closer, you get that itch—-no, that urge to fuck someone else. We’ve been doing this dance for ten years now, Marvin. I hate to break it to you, but you’re not some great mystery to me anymore.” Carmen said holding her anger in like the seconds of silence before a nuclear bomb explodes. I better get out of here before she blows.
“I’ll call you, O.K.?” I said after taking in a deep breath. I kiss her gently on her forehead that is hot as if she had a fever, but I know the heat is just a result of anger instead of sickness. She holds her breath and avoids eye contact while I gracefully exit her apartment.
The elevator doesn’t have its usual “out of service” sign, but I feel like walking. Step after step, I walk down the hallway followed by going down the stairs and out the door of her decrepit building. The sun’s heat touches my face and the city air enters my nostrils, but it isn’t long until I find myself feeling the coolness of the shade the subway tunnel provides. After I swipe my subway card and join the various people waiting for their transportation, I take a seat on an empty bench when suddenly; Carmen’s face pops into my head. Have we really been a part of each other’s lives for ten years? Yeah, I guess we have. I’m not some great mystery to her anymore? I seriously doubt that. She still doesn’t know what I do for a living. She doesn’t know
about my past. My train got here and I followed the herd inside. When did I even meet Carmen?
I was about twenty-one…no, twenty-two. I had just finished a job and I was drowning my sorrows with tequila shots at a bar I adopted as my home away from home. I smelled her sweet scent before I turned around responding to her tap on my shoulder. She instantly mesmerized me. Now I knew why she smelled so sweet; her skin was the color of milky caramel candy. Her angelic face quickly drew me in and my eyes were directed to her perfect, big lips as she asked me: “What’s wrong?” What a weird pick-up line, I thought to myself and then I noticed how genuine she seemed. She actually cared about what my answer would be. Of course, I never answered her honestly that night…or any other night, for that matter.
“Excuse me, Sir? Do you have the time?” A vivacious blonde with legs for days asked me crashing my train of thought. I brought my left wrist closer to my face and checked the time.
“It’s fifteen past.” I responded with almost a musical tone to my voice.
“Fifteen past what?” She confusedly asked the way a blonde should.
“Fifteen past one, dear. Where are you headed?”
“I have an audition at three at a studio on sixteenth and Broadway.” She smiled as if I should be impressed by yet another aspiring actress in New York.
“That is very close to my place. I’d love to help you burn off the nerves.” I said hypnotizing her with my charming smile.
“How sweet! I am very nervous…what did you have in mind?” She looked deep into my blue eyes and I could tell she was already mine. I took a step into her welcoming personal space and wrapped my right arm around her tiny waist. Her lips quivered and like a magnet, her lips joined mine. She melted into me and let out a great big sigh.
Minutes later, we were at my loft fucking Carmen out of my head. We had sex on my kitchen counter where Carmen often cooked at, on the coffee table Carmen got for my twenty-fifth birthday, and finally in the shower. She moaned like an amateur porn star as I played Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony in my head. The shower was a nice finale to our aerobic performance. She left for her audition shortly after she wrote her number down on the notepad I have next to my phone. “Call me,” she said already hoping for the encore that would never happen. I locked the door behind her and walked toward the notepad where I ripped the sheet she wrote on. The paper went in my pajama pant’s pocket as I went up the stairs to open my safe located behind my closet. After punching in this week’s code, I got my dirty Beretta 92FS with AAC Evolution‑9 silencer. I hadn’t cleaned it since using it last night before going to Carmen’s. Now is a good a time as any. It’s funny how a simple task can have such a calming and soothing effect. My cell phone started to ring yanking me out of my peaceful state. I took it out of my pocket and placed it on my ear.
“Yeah?” I answer knowing only clients and potential clients have this number.
“Hi, I got your number from Vanessa.” A gay man’s voice said with a slight lisp.
“And?”
“Well, isn’t it obvious? I want to hire you to do a job.” His smart-ass tone irritated me.
“Meet me at the corner of forty-third and Broadway in thirty minutes.”
“Oh, I don’t know if I can make it in thirty minutes. I— “
“If you don’t show up, don’t bother calling me again. I’m a busy man.” I cut him off and hung up the phone. Why is it people always think I give a damn about their schedules? No, the only thing I give a damn about is if the people they want gone truly deserve such a harsh end. The last thing I want is to kill an innocent person. I put on a white t-shirt, jeans, and a Yankees hat after I tied my sneakers. Then I took out the paper with the blonde’s number on it, lit it with my butane lighter, and with the burning paper, I lit my menthol cigarette. The ashes fell down on my hard, wooden floor and quickly disappeared with the brief memory of the blonde with nice legs. As the inhaled smoke filled my lungs, the nicotine ran through my veins and everything was right in the world. Seconds later, I was out the door and dialing Vanessa’s number.
“Hello?” She answered in almost a whisper.
“Hi, it’s Azrael.” I said in a firm tone.
“Is something wrong?”
“Did you give my number to anyone?” I asked as I activated the lie detecting voice scanner on my phone.
“Yes, I gave it to Theo. Oh, I hope that’s all right. I figured it would be since I got your number from Beth and all. You get your clients by word of mouth, don’t you?” She asked while having an internal panic attack. In this case, I didn’t need the technology; but I double checked anyways. She was telling the truth. I hung up the phone as soon as I had the information I needed. I put the cell phone in my pocket and kept walking toward the subway. Theo, Vanessa cleared you. Who are you going to need me to kill?
In the subway, I started to surf the internet on my iPhone and looked up the number from which Theo called me from. From then on, it was cake finding out what he looks like, how old he is, his social security and etc. I was even able to round up a list of people in his life that he could potentially want dead. My guess is on the stepfather. It’s always the stepfather.
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