Stay By Me

When a hit man's day goes wrong, in the most unusual way.

 

Stay By Me

 

 

 

Ten minutes to mid-night, a woman comfortably in her forties sits alone in the darkness that has gathered about her luxurious sitting room. There is no sound in this night but the rise and fall of her chest, the steady tide of her breathing in and out and her own heartbeat. On a suitably expensive settee positioned for the view out of her massive picture widows that look down from her penthouse apartment she sits not noticing the dark. Her stylish hair-do has been forgotten today and the Channel suit she has worn; the one that looked so smart on her had been shed across the couch. Now she sat quietly in her now wrinkled skirt, a slightly damp camisole and stocking feet. She had always been told she looked young for her age, even on days when she felt the weight of a hundred years on her shoulders. Mrs. Lilly Porter was just one of those women that carried all the strength of her lineage in her eyes, today you could tell she had been crying. The redness in her usually youthful face told the story of hours of tears but all that was over now, at this moment her only thoughts were on whatever she saw in her mind's eye as she stared sightlessly out the window.

Then it came.
          "You don't have to sneak around in the dark. I know you're here." She said flatly. The words hung in the silence without any reply; her voice had given up on emotion by now and only had room for this cold factual sound.
"I've been expecting you. You see I found the letters my husband had drafted to hire you. He can be so careful when he's juggling money in the accounts but never learned to delete his emails." She spoke out into the darkness again.
"Don't worry, I'm not going to run from you or call the Police. I'm done you see, sucked dry...I'm ready to go." She murmured the last words quietly as if to herself more than the stillness.
A bit startled a figure moved out from the deeper darkness that crusted the edges of the room. In every inch on him there was the impression of efficiency, from the strength of his well-muscled body poised for absolute silence to the tip of the knife blade he had at the ready, which glistened, with lethal beauty even in the dim light. Moving slowly he came up without a sound behind her seat on the couch and waited. He had a task to finish tonight, there would be no pay if he didn't but he was curious...no one ever knew he was coming.
"I realized a few months ago something was wrong with our marriage, Don kept acting so strange and distant. We've been together 18 years; I know when he's hiding something. I thought it was just an affair, I assumed he was fooling around with some woman at the office. Then I saw the bankbooks and the ledgers, it looked as if he were preparing to take over the company, my Father's company, the one he ran in my name. Then I found the emails... apparently I'm in the way of his future... for years he was waiting to get rid of me when the time was ripe." She said in a black tone, tinged with despair.
He listened impassively wondering at the strangeness of this woman, why is she telling me all of this?
"It's funny, in a way; my life was only worth $15,000.00. That's less than he paid for his damn Beamer." She spat out with a bit of mirthless laughter.
          "40 grand." He corrected, taken aback by the sound of his own voice. He hadn't even intended to speak but something about this situation had drawn him in. Maybe it was her strong, sad eyes reflected in the window or the unusual calm in her voice but something made him want to give her at least the tiny comfort of knowing she was worth more than the car.
Lilly jumped a bit when he spoke; she hadn't ever expected to hear the voice of death. Since she had resigned herself to this she had decided he would hear her story but nothing was in the plan about him answering back.
          "What?" she said reflexively.
Clearing his throat he spoke again.
          "It's 40 grand now Mrs. Porter, I just wanted you to know. I raised my price." After the words came out they felt to him as useless as a cork to a drowning victim. What was he saying? All that mattered is the job, the fat check you collect at the end and the trip to Jamaica until the next job. What was he doing trying to comfort a target with a monster's meaningless sympathy? He made his living in silence, why did the quiet between him bother him now?
          "Oh I see...Well, I suppose it doesn't really matter. I've decided I don't want to stay in a world where Don could fool me for so many years. I could never get on in a life where he hired someone to kill me for my shares. I can't even feel angry about it any more... I can't feel anything... but...." and then she lost her words.
          "I'm sorry." He said before he could stop himself.
Turning around in her seat on the couch she looked up into the surprised face of her soon to be killer. She reached out slowly for the tip of his long knife and brought it to her chest.
          "Don't be. Put the blade right through my heart so that maybe in my next life I won't feel the pain. Ha ha… I sound like a teenage love song…" She managed before the tears made their silent trails down her face again. She shook a bit with the sobs that just wouldn't come out; weary beyond understanding she knelt there in sorrow.
Looking hard at the broken woman before him he backed away a step, he had made the mistake of getting close enough to smell the salt of her tears. This was not what he expected, he found himself wanting to comfort this crumpled rose that sat before him. Her sadness made her beautiful in a strange way, in the end he chose not to think about it. She was just a job.
          "You know what I am here to do... I... thought maybe you had a last request?" He said slowly in a tone as unreadable as granite.
          "A last request?" She wondered aloud. Don had been "away on business" this month which allowed her to search and find this terrible secret. Her days had been filled with suspicion, anger, depression and finally this numbness that was beyond all despair that seemed to cover her like a blanket. What could you desire when you're heart was already dead? When you were swallowed in this eerie loneliness?
He waited silently for her reply wondering if it were a mistake to ask the question.
"Yes, stay with me. It's only a few hours until sunrise and I'd like to spend them in your arms. It's been a long time since I felt like I was cared for. I want to pretend for just a little while. You can use that blade when the sun comes up but for now just stay here with me." She said quietly, expecting to be denied. Lilly felt a little crazy for asking such a thing, but the most honest parts of her being longed for touch and this figure of death was the last being she would ever see.
He looked as if he were considering for a long moment then slowly put his knife in its sheath and made his way around the couch. He sat besides her quite precisely giving the impression he had no idea what to do next. Then looked up from the ground into her eyes then straight ahead at the same nothing she had been staring at for hours.
At this she just collapsed into his lap and laid there, still and unable to speak for many moments. Whatever had been holding her together before was fading fast and she didn't even want to try to understand the strange situation she had arranged.
In the silence he very carefully placed a hand on her shoulder unsure what else to do for her and he waited for her to speak again.
"I...I don't know what I'm doing." she finished. "I just feel so desperate, so insane, so shocked that the last thing I think about before I die is not my traitor husband, not the babies I could have had, not the future I'm tossing out the window but just that I wish I could feel one last bit of affection. God..." she cried. "What kind of person am I?" At this she looked up at his face as if looking for the answers in his eyes, as if trying to find the key that would make everything sensible again.
He looked down at her questioning eyes and had no answer. There is nothing to say to anyone being so deeply...human. All he could do was force himself to seem a little more comfortable with the idea of holding her, and bring her a bit closer.
As she noticed the comforting hand on her shoulder, despite the awkwardness of it all she realized this was exactly what she had been missing. In the one touch some of the lonely memories began to drip out of her mind. She sat up then and put her head into his collar bone, allowing him to circle her in his arms. They sat on the couch like the lovers she and her husband should have been, as she let herself cry again. Quickly the tears stopped, she had no more left to spill after today. Soon there was nothing but the two huddled together against the quiet of the night.
“What’s your name?" she asked suddenly. "I mean, you're going to kill me anyway so it's no risk." for some reason curious about this man who was her killer to be.
          "David, my real name is David.” he said without knowing why. No one else had ever asked his name, even clients were never told to call him by anything other than code. NR3 is contacted for contracts... no one knew who David was.
Although it didn't make sense part of her was surprised at the sound, somehow she was expecting something less ordinary, less prosaic, from a hit-man. Something evil or devious sounding, she was not sure if she was comforted or disturbed that her killer had the same name as her accountant.
          "David, I'm Lilly. No one ever calls me that; I've been Mrs. Porter for the last 20 years. Not even my husband uses my real name, I've been "Hun" for so many years I almost think he's forgotten what my name was.
David had already been given her full info but she seemed to need to talk at this point. Listening to her ramble was much easier than trying to understand the mess going on in his head just now.

She went on to tell him about how she met her husband in school years ago, how her father had died and left the business to her. She was a young girl in love at the time so never questioned her boyfriend's eagerness to get married right after she inherited. Don had gotten the best job she could provide, even though the first year was spent just trying to teach him how to do it and eventually she decided to hand over the reigns to be his full time wife. Between women's lunches and board parties she had been able to convince herself she wasn't in a lifeless marriage and she ignored the fact that Don spent less and less time at home. The lonely hours stretched on whenever she came back to the empty house. He had decided early on that they didn't want children...so there was never anyone to come home to. On the few occasions they really talked it was always about business, he wanted to take the company in a new direction but she got the final say and decided to veto the decision.
"I think that is when he really started to resent me,” she said. “I suppose that is when he figured that I was just in the way..." she trailed off.
David didn't feel as if he could respond to any of it. This was her life story she was spilling in front of him and all he could think to do for her was listen.
“When I found out that you were coming for me it was almost a relief.” she sad sadly. "If he wants it that bad, let him have it. I don't have to worry about any of this any more. I don't have to say no, I don't have to feel responsible, I don't have to wonder anymore why he's never here." She sighed.
Something was very wrong here, he wasn't prepared for this. He wanted to make her stop all this... and become something he could understand. He began to hold her a little tighter as he noticed the faint light beginning to tinge the sky. Did she see it too?
"I think maybe the real reason I'm so ready to go is that I've run out of fight. I spent too many long years fighting a battle that we couldn't even acknowledge and I lost. Now all I want is bit of kindness and a quick passing. I don't about tomorrow.” She said to herself. “I can see the sun is coming, just, stay with me." she pleaded gently into his shirt.
David tried to quiet the jumbled thoughts and feelings in his head and just went with impulse. He held her close and gently stroked her hair. He could smell the scent of yesterday's perfume clinging to her and felt the tension in her neck as she tried not to cry again. Looking down into her eyes for the first time he started to wonder what he was really here to do.

Dawn began to creep over the horizon, seeping into the world slowly over the hills. Lilly got up off the couch to stretch a bit and look out the window at her last daybreak. It was beautiful, the rose and peach that slide into the early morning clouds made her smile at the corners of her mouth. She turned to David and he rose to join her next to the window. While he faced her she turned her back to the window and looked intently into his eyes.
"I'm ready now." she said as she took a fortifying breath and ran her fingers over the sheathed blade.
David tried to speak but she put her finger to his lips to silence him and he obeyed.
She popped the button on the knife sheath and moved his hand to it, motioning that it was time.
He removed the knife and just stared at it while it caught the first rays of light coming in the window. He looked at this tool of his trade as though he had never seen it before. The old familiar grip didn't feel the same; he couldn't remember what came next.
"David, as the last thing I'll ask of you..." she said bringing the knife tip up to her heart again. “Tell me that you love me. It's okay that it's a lie... I just want to hear the words." she asked almost peacefully.
A pained expression moved across his face before he could hide his feelings. He looked down into her eyes again and searched for the right thing to do there.
          "Lilly..." he almost whispered. “I love you."
It seemed to be exactly what she needed, a peaceful expression spread across her face like the warm sunlight that streamed in behind her.
He was still trying to sort this out in his mind when she reached up her right hand to the back of his neck and brought him towards her for a deep kiss. He was confused enough that for a few moments he didn't even realize. At the same moment she had brought her left hand around his holding the knife gently at her heart, and thrust it home. She must have known he was having second thoughts. The blood began to well thick and hot as he pulled away, gently he lowered her to the floor. She tried to open her mouth but sound wouldn't come out anymore, she had good aim or his hands knew the way without him, for it had cut deep and pierced straight through to the heart. She would be gone in a matter of minutes from the blood loss, and all he could do was wait with her until the end came. When she was finally still he gently closed her eyes and stood. He had no mind to perform all the steps he would have taken to prepare the scene. None of this came back to him as his hand opened mechanically and the knife fell to the floor. He just opened the door and walked out into the daylight, and he wondered why he was crying.

Author's Note

I know I have grammar and dialogue issues, if you want to mention that suggestions on improvement are much appreciated.

Reviews

[Meg Write]

Wow, you have a beautiful style of writing.

Very well written, with my only concern being the fact you started in present tense and gradually changed over into past tense, ending with the same.

I personally do not see any problems with the dialogue. It seems real and fresh. The only critique there would be the fact you use adverbs with the he said/she said stuff. I've read that editors and other writers tend to stray from that because your dialogue should be able to show the emotion by itself.

I'm glad to see you did well describing everything without over using adjectives. Well done. Good piece.

Meg