Coffee

Paul was sitting in front of a convenience store behind the wheel of his metallic purple 1990 Lexus LS400. The assassin tried to figure out how he would dispose of Nancy's body, which he placed in the trunk of his sedan.

It was ten o'clock in the morning, and right now Paul was getting ready to get out of his car to go grab a cup of coffee. He had a slight hangover, and he needed something to wake him up. He was just sitting inside his car, listening to Eminem and trying to decide on the right time to get his cup of coffee.

Paul hated crowded public places. He didn't want to get out of his car to get his coffee because of all the people he saw marching in and out of the convenience store. Paul wanted his coffee, so he tried to ignore dealing with a convenience store full of customers.

As Paul sat in his car watching people walk in and out of the store, he could feel a female presence lurking inside him. He couldn't stop the presence from taking over his voice.

"You f*cking moron!" The voice of Christina abruptly came forth out of Paul's mouth. "What's the matter, moron? You're too f*cking afraid to go get a cup of coffee?" Christina teased Paul. The female alter ego's voice wreaked animosity and sarcasm.

"I'll get my coffee, bitch. In the meantime, why don't you try shutting the f*ck up," Paul whipped back at Christina after taking a puff off his cigarette.

"You're an assassin who's too afraid to get a cup of coffee. That's hilarious." Christina giggled a little.

"Shut the f*ck up!" Paul came in quick on Christina. "Maybe I should get my gun out of the glove compartment and shoot myself in the mouth. At least I'll shut you up." Paul threatened Christina hoping his threat would stop her from talking, but it didn't work.

"You killed a mother, and you put her body in the trunk of your f*cking car! Nancy was a mother like me. Now her baby has to grow up without his mom because you killed her!" Christina's mouth was on fire and she wanted to burn Paul with her wrathful words. "How can you live with yourself? How can you live knowing that a little boy will wonder why his mom disappeared one night? Nancy's little boy will live out the rest of his life without his mom. Eventually, the poor baby will find out how you killed his mom!"

"Yeah, who gives a f*ck!" Paul roared suddenly, cutting off Christina's ranting. "Listen to me, I want you to shut the f*ck up or I'm going to get my gun out of the glove compartment and shoot myself in the head. I'll shoot us in the head if you don't stop talking. You hear me, bitch!?" There was an intense silence after Paul threatened Christina again. Paul thought Christina had gone away after he threatened her again. He waited to hear Christina speak, and a minute went past before she gave her last word.

"I'm not scared of you," Christina spoke again through her soft tone of voice. "I want you to blow your f*cking brains out! I don't care if you kill us! They'll be one less motherf*cker in the world!" Christina gave her final word to Paul. The young woman's sweet and strong voice disappeared like a sunset.

Paul became relieved after he felt Christina's presence leave him. It felt like a possession whenever Christina would arrive. Paul knew that his female alter ego would return and he didn't want to think about his next confrontation with Christina. It only took a minute for Paul to step out of his Lexus. Paul stepped out of his car while cracking his knuckles, which was something he did whenever he would get irritated about something. The arguments he would have with Christina would irritate him every single time. Walking into a convenience store full of customers also added to Paul's irritation.

After adjusting the collar of his black suit jacket, the transgender hitman shut the door of his car behind him. He used his tongue to put out his lit cigarette before flicking it down on the ground.

Paul loved putting his cigarettes out on his tongue. He enjoyed the pain. Paul wished he could kill someone now. While he was walking toward the convenience store's front entrance, he fantasized about killing every man and woman customer inside the store. Paul's hangover caused him to become extra bloodthirsty.

Please tell me that this gentleman didn't just spill coffee all over my brand new suit. Paul thought in his head as he looked down at the huge coffee stain that covered the whole front part of his black suit jacket. Paul was trying to be nice by holding the door open for an elderly man. After holding the door open for the old man, Paul made his way into the convenience store and ran straight into a young man who was holding two cups of Starbucks vanilla iced lattes.

"Oh, my God! Mister, I'm so sorry!" The man almost went into a panic as he apologized to Paul. The man's name was Gregg, and Gregg tried to use a wad of paper napkins he had in his other hand to see if he could wipe off the coffee on Paul's suit jacket.

"It's alright. It was only an accident, don't worry about it," Paul told Gregg through his soft-spoken voice and his warm Texas drawl. He gave the man a gentle smile. Paul studied Gregg's bright red beard and his military crew cut. He studied the man's eyeglasses and a tattoo on the man's left arm that said, I love my wife and my daughter.

"Please forgive me for being such an idiot and not watching where I was going. Your suit looked so nice on you and I ruined it." Gregg was rubbing on Paul's shoulder and he almost sounded like he was getting ready to cry. The man scrubbed and rubbed all over Paul's suit jacket like a mother washing her child in a bathtub. Gregg felt so embarrassed, and he still couldn't believe he was such a klutz.

"I told you it's alright. I have plenty of these suits at home," Paul told Gregg, trying to calm him down.

"What happened, Daddy?" A little girl's voice appeared out of nowhere right behind Paul. Paul turned and looked down to see a curly red-haired and blue-eyed little doll who looked like she was a five-year-old miniature supermodel.

"Daddy made a mess, Sweetheart. He spilled coffee all over this poor man's clothes," Gregg told his little girl who came and stood beside him while looking up at Paul and sucking on her little fingers.

Paul smiled down at the little girl and he watched as the little girl smiled back at him. While gazing down at the child, Paul could feel Christina's maternal instincts trying to kick in. He could feel Christina wanting to hold the little girl in her arms, but he ignored Christina's motherly desires.

"I'm so glad I didn't spill hot coffee on you. I've got to watch where I'm going next time." Gregg's voice was full of guilt even though he was laughing. "Mister, I'm so sorry. I feel like I've ruined your day. I came here to get coffee for me and my wife and I ended up spilling coffee all over you." Gregg put his hand up to his forehead, feeling ashamed for what he did. The kind hearted man reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet.

"You don't have to do that." Paul stopped Gregg from pulling out a one-hundred-dollar bill. Paul pushed the money away when Gregg tried to hand it to him.

"Please let me give you this. I ruined your jacket and giving you this money will make me feel a little better," Gregg told Paul while still trying to force a hundred-dollar bill into the killer's hand.

"I don't want your money. Instead, why not let me buy you more coffee?" Paul's voice was full of warmth and gentleness. The killer wanted to offer a kind service to Gregg. He tried to ignore feeling enraged over the fact that Gregg ruined his black tailor-made suit.

"You're gonna buy me and my wife more coffee after I spilled coffee all over you? My God, you're so kind," Gregg told Paul while resting his hand on the man's arm.

"Let me go buy you more vanilla iced lattes. That is the coffee you had, right?" Paul asked while feeling uncomfortable over Gregg's hand caressing his arm.

"Yes, that's right. That's the coffee I had." Gregg giggled while answering Paul and giving the killer a soft gaze. "I appreciate you buying me more coffee. You're so nice for doing this," Gregg told Paul while still caressing the assassin's arm. Gregg bent down to pick up his daughter while watching Paul turn and walk toward the mini Starbucks cafe, which was over on the far left side of the convenience store. "You see that, Honey? Now that's a nice gentleman. He's buying your Mommy and Daddy more coffee," Gregg whispered to his daughter while pointing across the way at Paul.

"He's a nice man like Daddy." Gregg's daughter, Samantha, mumbled through her little soft voice. The little girl giggled while making herself comfortable in her daddy's arms. The child waved at Paul, who was waving back at Samantha and her father near the Starbucks service counter.

***

It was eight o'clock at night. Gregg, his wife Patricia, and their little girl Samantha were all eating dinner at the dining room table. While Gregg was enjoying his dinner with his wife and daughter, he was telling them how terrible he still felt over spilling coffee on a man earlier in the day.

"I felt so bad after running into that man and spilling coffee all over his beautiful suit," Gregg told his wife while shaking his head and laughing a little. It was embarrassing, but a little funny that Gregg couldn't stop beating himself up over spilling coffee on a person. It was an accident that most normal people could move on from. But the reason that Gregg couldn't move on from the accident he had with Paul was because he did before in the past. Gregg's wife didn't know this.

"You have got to stop talking about this. It was an accident. You spilled coffee on a person this morning. It's not like you killed someone!" Gregg's wife Patricia spoke to her husband while laughing and wondering why her husband couldn't let go of a minor situation.

What Patricia didn't understand was that her husband had a secret that would haunt him every day. And with Gregg spilling coffee on a person, it reminded Gregg even more of a terrible accident he committed at his old workplace. It was an accident that caused Gregg to lose a managerial job he had seven years ago.

"I know it might seem like I'm obsessing about this, but when I spilled coffee on that man, it brought back some painful memories for me," Gregg told Patricia while leaning forward and using his napkin to wipe away some spaghetti sauce that his little girl had on her mouth. Gregg wanted to tell Patricia his secret, but he didn't know if he wanted to tell her what happened in front of their daughter.

"Spilling coffee on that man brought back some painful memories? What painful memories?" Patricia asked while gazing at her husband.

"I'll tell you later. I don't want to tell you in front of Samantha," Gregg told his spouse while standing up from the dining room table and reaching over to pick up Samantha when the little girl stretched her arms out toward her daddy. Gregg kissed his daughter on her lips and he laughed when the child put her pint-sized fingers through his red beard.

"Dinner was great. You can cook spaghetti better than anyone," Patricia told her husband while following close behind him toward the kitchen. Patricia loved Gregg's cooking, which was part of the reason why she married him.

"I'm so glad you enjoyed it. I learned to cook pasta with Parmesan chicken from my mom." Gregg giggled while still holding his daughter in one arm and placing his dirty plate into the dishwasher. "Who's ready for bed? Are you ready for bed?" Gregg whispered to his daughter while rubbing his nose against the five-year-old's face and causing her to laugh. Gregg loved making his daughter laugh.

"Are you reading me another bedtime story before I go to sleep?" Samantha asked her daddy with her little fingers still playing with his beard.

"You want Daddy to read you another bedtime story?" Gregg asked while making a funny voice that would make him sound like Yoda from Star Wars, causing his daughter to giggle every single time he would do it.

"Yeah, I want you to read me another bedtime story," Samantha told her dad through her giggling. The little girl smacked her tiny hands together in excitement after her daddy told her he would read her favorite bedtime story.

"I'll read your favorite story to you, but I want you to go upstairs and brush your teeth first," Gregg told his little girl before putting her down and watching as the child took out running toward her mom to kiss her goodnight.

"Goodnight, Sugar Pie!" Patricia laughed as she kneeled down to embrace Samantha, who was moving her little bare feet toward her mom at a rapid speed. Patricia buried her lips into Samantha's dark curly sunset red hair while looking up at Gregg, who was enjoying the affectionate moment.

"Make sure you brush your teeth well, Princess! I'll be up there in a minute to tuck you in!" Gregg told his little girl who was moving so fast that her body was nothing but a blur going up the stairs.

"You didn't tell her about tomorrow, did you?" Gregg asked Patricia after making sure that their daughter was out of hearing distance.

"No, she doesn't know we're taking her to Wonderworld tomorrow. You think I'll ruin the surprise?" Patricia fussed at her husband a little while giggling. She couldn't believe Gregg would even ask her if she had spoiled the surprise for their daughter.

"I'm sorry, Sweetheart. I didn't mean to ask you that. I know you're good at keeping secrets." Gregg apologized to Patricia, and he could see that his question on if she told their daughter about the surprise offended his wife a little. "Don't be mad at me. I already feel guilty for what happened earlier today," Gregg whispered to Patricia before giving his wife a quick kiss on her full lips.

Patricia and Gregg gazed at each other for a minute while having bedroom thoughts toward each other. The couple stood in the kitchen with their hands on each other's hips. While looking into each other's eyes, it fascinated them how happy they were together after being married for six years. Gregg and Patricia found it funny that their marriage lasted longer than their past relationships.

The couple believed the reason they were together was because they grew tired of having failed past relationships with their same sex partners. The funny part was that Patricia experimented with lesbianism before she found Gregg. Gregg used to be gay, and he dated men because he grew tired of women, until he found Patricia. What turned Gregg on when he saw Patricia was that Patricia acted manly, and Gregg liked beautiful women who were tomboyish. Patricia found Gregg attractive because of his sensitivity and his androgynous looks.

"I want to know about those painful memories you were telling me about at the dinner table," Patricia said to her husband, breaking the romantic silence between them. Patricia wanted to find out why her husband spilling coffee on someone at a convenience store made him feel so guilty.

Gregg had to tell Patricia what happened to him since their daughter was upstairs. It was painful for Gregg to even think about it. Now it would be even more painful for him to talk about.

"Okay, so you already know I held a manager job at McDonald's before we met, right?" Gregg watched as Patricia nodded her head.

"Yeah, you told me you used to be a manager at McDonald's." Patricia acknowledged her husband's question while folding her slender muscular arms.

"Well one morning, a customer walked in to get her order and she left her hot coffee behind on the counter. The employee who took the customer's order was distracted at the register. I happened to be walking through and I saw the woman leave her coffee. So I grabbed the coffee and ran after her. I ran around the counter and at the same time a woman stepped in front of me with her baby stroller. I ran into the stroller and spilled hot coffee all over her baby. I wasn't watching where I was going and I—" Gregg hesitated for a minute, reliving the painful experience. The experience would sometimes feel like it happened yesterday for Gregg. Gregg didn't want to finish what he was telling his wife, but he had to finish. "I spilled hot coffee on that woman's baby." Gregg's voice quivered as he continued to tell his wife what happened. "He was a cute baby. He looked like he was eight months old. I could have died that day. And the baby's mother wanted to kill me. She looked like she wanted to strangle me with my necktie. I lost my manager position that day." Gregg took a deep breath while looking down at the kitchen floor and putting his hands on his hips.

Patricia didn't know what to say after her husband spoke of his painful experience. The woman stared at her husband with sympathy, and she tried not to picture a toddler getting burnt by a hot cup of coffee.

"Oh, my god... Why didn't you tell me this, baby?" Patricia said while resting her hand on the side of Gregg's face.

"I wanted to forget about it. That's why I never told you," Gregg replied while taking hold of his wife's hand. "I injured that woman's baby all because I wasn't watching where the f*ck I was going. I guess when I spilled coffee on that man this morning, it brought back my past." Gregg didn't want to tell his wife about what happened to him. But it seemed like after he told his wife, a weight lifted off his shoulders.

"So that's why you couldn't stop talking about spilling coffee on that man." Patricia said while caressing her husband's arm. Patricia always wondered why she would look into Gregg's eyes and would sometimes see hidden guilt. "You know you have to move on from this. You need to forgive yourself. It was an accident," Patricia told Gregg, hoping that her comforting words would help her husband, but she knew it would take Gregg some time to get over injuring a baby, since Gregg loved children.

Gregg loved it when Patricia would comfort him. It aroused Gregg just to hear his wife telling him to forgive himself. Gregg knew he had to let go of his guilt. He realized that telling his wife what happened to him was the best thing he ever did. While standing right there in the kitchen, Gregg wanted to make love to his wife instead of stacking dirty dishes in the dishwasher. The man placed his hand on his wife's hips and was about to lean in for a kiss, but he halted when he heard a delightful little voice behind him. Samantha giggled after telling her dad how she brushed her teeth and was ready for her bedtime story.

"You're done brushing your teeth already, Sweetheart? Did you do a good job?" Gregg went over to his daughter, who was standing right outside the kitchen. Samantha adorably stood outside the kitchen's entrance wearing her sleeveless and pink My Little Pony pajama nightgown.

"I can't wait to go to Wonderworld tomorrow!" Samantha blurted out after her daddy lifted her up into his arms.

Patricia's heart went to her throat when Gregg looked around at her, giving her a dirty stare. Patricia knew she was in trouble after lying to Gregg and telling him she hadn't told their daughter about the surprise trip to the amusement park.

"Who told you we were going to Wonderworld tomorrow?" Gregg asked his daughter, watching as the little girl pointed at Patricia while telling Gregg that her mommy had told her everything.

Patricia gave Gregg a guilty smile like a child caught with her hand in the cookie jar. The only thing that saved Patricia from getting a rebuking stare from her husband was the ringing sound of the doorbell. Patricia kissed her husband and her daughter before easing her way toward the front door.

While walking toward the front door, Patricia looked over her shoulder at Gregg and she whispered out the words, "I'm sorry for lying to you." She knew she wasn't in trouble after watching Gregg blow her a kiss at her. When Patricia made it up to the front door, she opened it expecting to see their next-door neighbor, Mr. Wilson. Mr. Wilson was a sweet middle-aged widower who would knock on their door a lot at night, asking if he could borrow something.

When Patricia opened the front door expecting to see her neighbor, a brown box sitting on the doorstep greeted her. The brown package was about the size of a bowling ball, and Patricia assumes that it was a UPS package.

"Who is that?" Gregg stood near the stairway, still holding Samantha in his arms. He tried to see who was standing at their front door from a distance.

"Nobody's here, but someone left a package," Patricia answered her husband while bending down to pick up the box.

"Someone delivered a package? That's strange, I don't remember ordering any—" Before Gregg could finish his sentence, a thunderous groundbreaking blast sent him and his little girl flying back toward his kitchen.

A few seconds was all it took for the bomb to detonate. It was a blast that turned the house's living room into a fiery mass of rubble. What used to be a coffee table, a leather sofa and a flat-screen television, was now burning pieces of debris that covered the ground where segments of the living room's hardwood floor used to be.

Gregg's ears were ringing. The ringing in his ears was so loud that he couldn't hear his daughter crying. He could barely see her through a sea of smoke. Gregg coughed up his lungs and could see through the smoke that he no longer had a living room. He could also see a dark figure in the distance, walking through the fiery rubble that used to be the front part of his home.

Gregg looked around to see that his little girl was right beside him. He could see tiny streams of blood leaking out of her ears. When Gregg saw drops of blood coming out of his daughter's ears, he knew the sound of the blast damaged her eardrums.

Even though his precious little angel was lying right beside him, her screaming sounded muffled.

"Patricia!!!" Gregg called out to his wife, but he knew the explosion killed her. The last thing Gregg remembered doing was watching his wife bend down to pick up a brown box sitting at their doorstep. Gregg didn't know he was watching his wife pick up a bomb. "Samantha, it's alright, Honey! Daddy's here!" Gregg tried to comfort his daughter, who was crying.

Gregg scooped his daughter up into his arms and he was about to stand up, but he released an agonizing scream when he felt a sharp pain in his leg. Gregg was bit down on his tongue when he felt the sharp, stabbing pain. The frightened father looked down at his leg to see that a sharp long piece of wood protruded from the side of his thigh muscle.

Blood spewed out of Gregg's leg because the piece of wood punctured an artery. Gregg tried to stand up with his daughter, but trying to stand was impossible. The only thing Gregg could do was sit on the floor with his daughter while staring at the flames spreading throughout his damaged living room. Gregg could see a dark figure walking in the distance. Gregg wanted to believe that the dark figure approaching him was Patricia.

From the way the figure was walking, Gregg knew that it wasn't his wife. It was someone else who was walking through the burning rubble. Gregg saw through the smoke that the person walking toward him and his daughter was holding what looked like an axe.

"Hello?" Gregg called out to the dark figure. "Can you help us?" Gregg shouted. The pain in his leg was causing his voice to crack and tremble. Who is that? That's not my Patricia. Those were the thoughts that were echoing through Gregg's mind as he stared straight ahead at the approaching dark figure.

When the figure got closer, Gregg could see that the figure was wearing no shirt. Gregg could also see that the dark figure was muscular. Tattoos covered the figure's chest and torso. When the shirtless man grew closer, Gregg could see two large lightning bolt tattoos on each side of the man's six-pack abdomen.

Gregg could now see the dark figure. It was a man with white makeup painted on his face along with what appeared to be black eyeshadow. The man had his pitch-black long hair tied up into a ponytail and it looked like he had blood painted across his broad shoulders. The white makeup made the man look like Jared Leto's Joker from the Snyder Cut Justice League. Gregg felt helpless while looking up at this shirtless, sweaty mass of raw muscle who was towering over him, holding a shiny long axe in his left hand. Gregg recognized the man's face, even through the white makeup. It was the face of the gentleman whom Gregg spilt coffee on at the convenience store.

Gregg couldn't believe he was looking up at the assassin. He couldn't believe the sudden change of events. One minute he was laughing and enjoying a wonderful evening with his wife and daughter, and the next minute he was down on the floor with an injured leg. He couldn't believe he was holding his little girl and looking up at a ripped shirtless man with a white-painted face. The assassin stood over Gregg holding a medieval utility axe in his left hand. Gregg noticed how the man's body had a slight feminine shape. He could see that the man had muscular shoulders and arms, but the rest of his body had a strange curviness which gave off a feminine quality. Gregg saw how the man's hips were slightly wider than his shoulders. He had the odd feeling that he was looking up at an extremely masculine woman.

"I'm sorry! He kills people all the time and I can't stop him! I didn't want this to happen! I'm really sorry, Sweetie!" The man spoke down to Gregg suddenly through a sorrowful, feminine voice.

Gregg looked shocked when he heard what sounded like the voice of a woman with an Australian accent coming out of the man. The terrified father watched as the shirtless, androgynous looking man blew a kiss down at him while crying. It would be the last thing Gregg would see. Gregg wanted to plead for his life and the life of his daughter, but before he could open his mouth to utter a single word, the shirtless man brought the blade of his axe down on Gregg's neck. Just like that, the sharp blade separated the thirty-eight-year-old father's head from his neck. Blood spewed out of the severed neck like water bursting out of a busted water pipe.

Samantha was still in her father's arms, but the child could see that something was wrong when she saw that her daddy's body slumped over. After watching her daddy get beheaded, the little girl looked up at the bearded, white-painted face of Paul, who was still standing over her and her daddy's dead body.

Paul stopped himself from crying after he executed Gregg. He knew that Christina was making him cry and he could feel her struggling to speak, but he quickly silenced her. Christina managed to slip in a few words to Samantha before Paul stopped her.

"It's okay, baby!" Christina said to the little girl. "I won't let him hurt you! I won't let him—"

"Stop talking, bitch." Paul cut off Christina and he regained control of his voice faster than a cobra snake biting its prey. After silencing Christina, the killer smiled down at Samantha. The hitman was smiling down at the little girl, but the child wasn't smiling back at him like she did at the convenience store. The little girl was in anguish and she was crying so hard and loud that her throat was throbbing.

Paul laid his axe down on the floor as he kneeled in front of Samantha. The killer was about to bend down to pick up the little girl, but the ringing of his phone interrupted him. Paul reached into his pants pocket to answer his phone with his unblinking dark eyes fixated on Samantha's tear-soaked face.

"Hello, this is Paul Chandler speaking?" Paul answered through his calm, soft voice. He became aroused when he heard the familiar female voice of his boss appear on the other end of his phone.

"Hi Paul, it's Miss Chan." Princess Death Row's alluring English accent echoed out of Paul's phone.

"Hello Miss Chan," Paul said, with his mind trying to decide if he should kill Samantha or adopt the little girl and raise her as his own daughter.

"What's going on? I hear crying," Irena asked after hearing Samantha's screams.

"It's a little girl. She's upset," Paul answered.

"Where are you?" Irena asked with a giggling curiosity in her voice. She listened as Paul chuckled.

"I killed a married couple and I'm standing in their home. The little girl you hear crying was their daughter." Paul's Texas accent and his deep soft-spoken voice made everything he said sound like a Western lullaby.

"You killed a married couple?" Irena asked, making sure she heard Paul correctly.

"Yes, I blew up their house using a pipe bomb. You want to know why I did it?" Paul was still trying to decide whether to kill Samantha while waiting to hear what his boss would say.

"Yes, please tell me," Irena replied through a suppressed giggle.

"The husband spilt coffee on my brand new suit this morning at a convenience store. So I killed him and his wife." Paul's gentle voice tightened a little after he told his boss what happened.

There was silence on the other end of Paul's phone at first, and then a burst of laughter. Irena's laughter caused Paul's phone to vibrate. Irena couldn't restrain herself. She knew how obsessed Paul was about his designer men's suits.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to laugh." Irena tried to straighten her voice while still giggling hard. "I know how much you love your suits. I'll never forget how you killed all those people at that restaurant in Miami just because some guy spilt beer on your lapel." Irena reminded Paul of the mayhem he caused on the night of their first date. "I always knew you were crazier than me. You told me how you made Christina kill her husband and her daughter and then you forced her to have a sex-change. Is that correct?" Irena continued to giggle while bringing up Paul's past. She enjoyed thinking about how Paul used to be a woman. The thought of the hitman's past would sexually excite Irena every single time.

Paul groaned. "I don't want you to bring that up. I don't want to talk about Christina," The hutman hissed at Irena.

"Why don't you want to talk about it?" Irena had a loving concerned inflection in her voice. "I think it's fascinating that you used to be a wife and a mama. I know you hate Christina, but I love her. I'll never forget seeing her wedding picture. She was so beautiful with her long red hair. She looked like Scarlett Johansson." Irena paused for a second, and she quickly went back to talking about Christina while getting aroused. "Christina had a nice body too. She had a stripper's body, and she was showing off her little curvy figure in that expensive wedding dress. Sometimes I feel sorry for her, especially after you told me what you did," Irena spoke to Paul in almost a whisper. She could hear hostility in Paul's breathing. "I'm sorry, baby. I know you hate it when I talk about Christina, but she's going to always be a part of you. You know that right?" Irena waited for Paul to say something, but a long and visceral silence greeted her. "Paul, are you there?" Irena asked with a longing in her voice. She knew he was still there, but she didn't like it when he would go silent on her.

"Yes, I'm here. Can we talk about something else, please," Paul spoke to Irena again through a sharp hiss.

Irena giggled. "Okay, we'll talk about something else. I called you because I wanted you to do something for me." A serious tone returned to Irena's voice.

"What do you want me to do, Darling?" Paul was eager to hear the mission that Irena had for him. The contract killer was ready to kill at Irena's command.

"I want you to find this woman for me, but I don't want you to kill her." Irena made sure that Paul understood not to kill the woman. She knew how Paul could kill easier than he could blink his eyes, and he would sometimes disobey Irena's orders and kill the person she wanted him to abduct. "Remember, I don't want you to kill this woman when you find her. I just want you to capture her. About a year ago, I abducted this woman's husband. Her husband is one of my prisoners and his name is Bryan," Irena explained. "Yesterday, I sent two of my guys to her house to take her son. Well, she killed one of my men and she got shot, but she's still alive. I abducted her son though. He's a cute little boy named Eric." Irena refrained from talking when Paul broke in with a few words.

"Where does this woman live?" There was an impatient lethal undercurrent in Paul's voice.

"I'll text you the address to her house. She lives on the North Side, but she's not at her house at the moment. She's in the hospital. She's at the Saint Gabriel Memorial Hospital on Lincoln Street and I want you to take a few men with you. Remember, don't kill her!" Irena made sure that her orders not to kill were getting through to Paul. "I want her alive. You killed the last person I told you to abduct and I'm still a little pissed about that. You chopped the person's head off and I don't want you to do that to her! You understand me?" Irena wanted to make sure that her and Paul were on the same page.

Paul let out a soft low moan, annoyed over his boss repeatedly telling him not to kill. "Alright, I got it!" Paul snapped. The transgender hitman confirmed that he understood Irena's orders. "I have one more question. What is the woman's name?" Paul asked through a sinister half-whisper.

"Her name is Amy Elizabeth Cho," Irena answered.

"Alright then, I'll get this Amy Elizabeth Cho for you." Paul told his boss hastily. The killer took his phone away from his ear, disconnecting the call while still staring down at Samantha. "It's okay little one, I won't hurt you," Paul said to Samantha through a gentle audible whisper. The hitman hummed a sweet lullaby to Samantha as he stepped over a severed head. A woman's voice inside him told him not to harm the child. Paul knew that it was the voice of Christina. He tried to ignore the woman's voice as he reached down to pick up the five-year-old.