I hear Romeo’s heavy footsteps come from the direction of the great room. He’s wearing a black pair of briefs, nothing else, with a gun in each hand, a cigarette hanging from his lips. Jesus, he looks sexy this morning. You’d think I’d grow used to how handsome he is especially after last night, but nope.
Stretching his arm out, he flips his hand palm up, gun full face so I can see it.
“This one is yours. Today, I’m going to teach you to shoot it but that means leaving the apartment,” he explains.
I take it into my palm, it’s so heavy, but holds a dangerous grace. I run the pad of my finger across the matte black finish. I have to leave the apartment to learn how to use it though. My head turns in the direction of the window, the big city just floors below. I swallow hard, the nerves in my stomach making me second guess being a part of the operation but I have to. I need to see the girls released to actually go out there and live a normal life.
“Okay,” I whisper, my eyes falling back to the gun. Sitting up on my knees, I take the gun into both of my palms and squint an eye, practicing aiming.
Reaching forward, he takes my right hand putting it just above my left, my finger brushing against the trigger as light as a first kiss.
He smirks. “Just like that.”
Lowering the gun, I reach out and take the cigarette from his lips and take a drag from it. The taste of a burning paper and hard tobacco coating every surface in my mouth. I’ve bummed a cig here and there from the handlers over the years, but never really took to smoking. But right now, I need something to calm my nerves. Exhaling the smoke, I give it back and look at him through the cloud that stands between us. I know if Romeo is by my side, teaching me how to stand on my own two feet… I’m safe.
“I’m ready,” I whisper. It’s time to take all my pain and put it into power.
Romeo
After dressing in a nice suit, I put my watch on and step out of my room, waiting on Luna. The sound of feet pad against the floor and I look up and have to do a double-take. She’s in a tight black dress, a deep dip between her breast. Her creamy long legs coming down to the cutest ankles, and I have to remind myself to take a breath. She’s not wearing clothes for target practice but more fitting for a date.
“You chose that to wear?” I ask, outstretching my arm to gesture to all of her. Trying not to sound like a prick. I’m just curious what made her pick it.
She looks down at herself, her hands sliding down the slick fabric.
“I know it’s probably not the outfit for the job but it made me feel… pretty.” She says the last part softly, shrugging one shoulder uncaringly.
I want to tell her to redress, to put something else on but it’s not because it’s not the right outfit, it’s because men might stare at her and I don’t want to be that jealous man. I’m not on my meds right now, and I might just end up snapping someone’s neck in broad daylight.
So I smile instead. “You should wear it then.”
“I don’t have any shoes though.” She sticks her foot up in the air and wiggles her toes.
“Shit,” I mumble. That may have people staring at her in a different way. Rubbing my chin, I ponder what to do about the situation.
“We will have to make a stop and grab some shoes then,” I assure her.
She doesn’t say anything when she replaces her foot back onto the floor, but I can sense that she is nervous to leave. Hell, it was just days ago she was cowering in the corner of a room. This is a big step.
“Are you ready?” I ask, eyeing her closely. This is the first time she will be out there without a chip in her arm, since she’s been here with me.
“As ready as I’ll ever be,” she whispers, turning herself to look at the front door. Coming up behind her, I press my hand to the small of her back.
“I’ll kill anyone that comes near you without permission. Understand?”
The corner of her full lips turn upward, but they don’t quite make a full smile. Seeing how scared she is at the thought of stepping foot into the public makes me want to do this job even more.
These fuckers are going down, and the best part is… I haven’t taken my medicine, so who knows how crazy shit will get.
Opening the front door, a waft of the hall air comes inside brushing across her face, strands of her hair flying to the side. Her shoulders rise and she lifts one foot to step outside and the next until she is in the hall. She looks around, her neck muscles tense. There’s not much to see. There’s the neighbor’s door, gold and cream tones on the carpet runner on the floor, and some ceiling lights leading the way up and down the hall.
“This way,” I tell her, motioning her to the elevator at the end of the hall.
She starts walking that way, looking over her shoulder every few seconds. She’s terrified and there’s nothing I can do to make it go away. She’s going to have to find her own confidence. Inside the elevator, the doors shut and it jerks before lowering. She jumps with fear and grabs onto the handle mounted to the side of the wall. She slowly stands straight, her face turning red with embarrassment. I don’t say anything, I adjust my watch on my wrist, letting her work the kinks out of her fear. The double doors finally open and we walk out into the lobby. Jannet is
