My wrists sting as I scrub them raw. No matter how much soap I use, or how hard I scrub I can still see blood. I can still see the look on his face. That knowing yet sad look. Sobs threaten to choke me, but I swallow them down. Now is not the time to fall apart. The others will be back soon, and they can’t see me like this. If they do they will ask questions, and the more questions the harder it will get for…

I can’t bring myself to finish the thought. Giving up on my hands I focus on my hair and face. I have to appear to be holding it together. Like my mother always said, “Stich the outside up good enough no one can see the broken pieces inside.” If only she knew how much I use her advice. As I reach for my brush my hand shakes. I jerk it back, hugging it to my body. Stop it; you knew this would have to happen. I hear a door open, and laughter fill the hotel room. Panic seizes my body, making my pulse sky rocket. In a flash I turn on the shower. I have to pull myself together, and quick. Warren will know something is up the minute I step out if I don’t. Nothing gets past him.

“Nikki,” The knock on the door sent me to the ceiling. I take a steady breath, trying to even my heartbeat. I quickly tug off my clothes and wrap a towel around me. Please don’t let my voice quiver!

“Yes?” I crack the door, just enough to let the cold air in.

“There’s some leftover pizza if you want any.” Warren searches my face for any hints at what my thoughts are. Panic washes through my veins as I try to hide the pain and guilt. “How did your scouting go?”

“Fine, I didn’t see anything. Just old people and too many couples who need to learn a thing or two about PDA.” My mind flashes to the moment in the park, but I quickly push it away. I can’t think about that right now.

“Alright, go ahead and take your shower. We can talk more later.” Warren hesitates before turning, and letting me close the door. I drop the towel, and stumble into the shower. How can I keep this up? Exhaustion seems to take over my body, leaving me empty like a shell. My legs give out, and I slide to the floor. No longer able to hold them back, tears run down my cheeks mixing with the hot water. Within seconds my whole body is shaking, too exhausted to hold anything in. How do you get over killing the one you love?








******



Pain flares through my back as the world blurs back into view. White washed walls, and the familiar smell of old spice and cigars greet me back into the world. Unsure if I want to sit up, I remain lying down. I don’t know how much damage she truly did yet, so I should take it easy. It’s not every day you survive getting stabbed by your girlfriend. Yet, according to our fate this will become our everyday routine. Frustration settles on my sore shoulders like a ton of bricks. No, more like a fat elephant. At least they’re cuter. Hazelnut curls, and emerald eyes come to mind, and immediately regret thinking of the word cute. I should have seen this coming. I should have been prepared. After all of my training, I’m still the one that ended up getting stabbed in the back. A dry humorless laugh scrapes my throat at the irony. I guess now I can joke about my girlfriend literally stabbing me in the back. But I can’t. To anybody else she’s the girl I was born to kill. Forbidden to see her as anything but a target; Forbidden to love.

“I see you’re awake, good.” Like sun clearing away the fog, Miguel’s voice pulls my attention to him. At least he’s not being arrogant. Yet. “You want to tell me how my best pupil managed to get stabbed in the back?” Never mind.

“You see, funny story. Apparently there was this mad man in the library, and he didn’t agree that the books should be alphabetical, so we got into the little fight. The librarian came over to stop us, but she tripped, and stabbed me with a pair of scissors.” Miguel’s hard eyes never flinch. If anything, I do believe they got harder. Good thing I’m known for making up unbelievable stories, and never telling the truth or this would go downhill fast.

“Alright, if this librarian had scissors, what was this bloody knife doing lying beside you in the park where I found you barely alive?” I glance at the table he so casually gestures to. Sure enough; Nikki’s knife is lying on the table. “And might I remind you, the park is five blocks west of the library I sent you to. Just in case your tired, muggy brain couldn’t remember that detail.” I flinch at his tone. He’s never been this angry before. Surely he doesn’t know who’s knife that is. Miguel’s only seen Nikki once in her life that I know of. He can’t honestly know who I was with, and how all this happened.

“Alright, I got bored at the library, because I couldn’t find the book you wanted so I went through a stroll in the park, and one of Nikki’s bozos ambushed me, and I wasn’t paying enough attention to detect them sooner.” Miguel stands, and turns his back on me. I hold my breath, hoping for once he believed my lie.

“Get some rest, Vixon.” Miguel walks away muttering something in Spanish, and the lights flick off as he closes the door; leaving me alone with my thoughts. My mind wanders back to the park. That kiss. The scent of her shampoo mixing with the scent of the dogwood blooms. Tears sting my eyes, but I blink them away. No, I won’t cry over this. If she wants a fight, then she can have one.

“Alright beauty, you created this beast. Now you have to live with him.”