He started the ignition and softly pulled away from the curb, driving gently away down the street, gliding silently like a ghost. No one would have noticed a thing… except for the gunshot, but in this neighbourhood people heard them often and knew not to stick their neck out by calling the cops. For a long while they drove silently through the streets of Chicago with nothing but the sound of silence and Anna’s rapid breathing. Anna was desperate to ask who he was, where they were going and what he was going to do with her but she couldn’t get the words out. She just watched him, trying to figure out what was going on in his head by the expression on his face, but there wasn’t one. He was a true professional, strong and silent, foreboding and solemn.
He said nothing until they reached a depressing looking motel that stood rickety and old off the side of the freeway. It would have looked abandoned if it wasn’t for the neon sign that flickered red in the night. It flashed the words “Sleep Eazy.”
“You know, I always wondered why they bothered with the second ‘E’ and the ‘P’.” The man commented dryly, turning to Anna, and smiling at her confused expression. “If you co-operate, you won’t get hurt. Now get out the car.”
She was lead roughly to a room at the end of the building. Far away from everyone else and containing nothing but a bed, a wicker chair, a lamp and an ancient television. It was only slightly dirtier than the house she had been taken from.
“Sit there,” he said flatly and pointed to the bed.
She did as she was told and shook nervously under her coat. She pulled it tighter around her and began to cry.
“Stop crying,” he said angrily. “It won’t bring your father back,”
“I wouldn’t want it to,” her words hung mysteriously in the air.
The killer looked to her face and saw her delicate features accentuated perfectly in the auburn lamplight. He wondered how someone so dainty and perfect could have sprouted from the cesspit of her neighbourhood. He felt himself soften to her but wished that he wouldn’t. Straightening himself in his chair he tried to make his body look more masculine, erect… strong. Anna responded by shrinking inside her coat even more. He felt guilty for scaring her but at the same time wanted to keep the upper hand. He stood up and walked over to her.
“Look kid, just do as I say and you won’t get hurt,”
She looked up to him with her big, pale eyes. There was uneasiness inside her as if she wasn’t sure if he was tricking her into something.
“Just do as I say… Ok?” and he got up and walked over to a backpack.
As he opened it Anna thought it looked military issued, and her eyes lingered on his buzz cut and stoney expression. Ex-marine? She wondered. He can’t still be in service. He pulled out a length of rope from the bag and began to make shapes with it between his hands. Anna panicked and scurried away from him but the furthest she could get was the headboard. He leaned in closer to her and his height and muscles couldn’t have been more intimidating. But as he held her limbs and tied her hands and feet together she noticed that he did so softly.
It seemed to Anna that he was only doing it as a token gesture of dominance, he didn’t want to hurt her…but at the same time he clearly didn’t want her escaping. He finished off by tying the loose strands of rope around the legs of the bed. He felt the peculiar urge to pat her on the head or comfort her in some way, but held back. Ridiculous, he thought. What am I thinking? And he left the motel room with a stomach full of raw nerves.
Anna wriggled on the bed trying to free her body from the rope. She knew it would be impossible but would never forgive herself if she didn’t try. The more she struggled the more the rope burnt the skin on her wrists and she eventually gave up. Catching her breath she tried to gauge what was happening. An hour ago she was asleep in her own bed and now she was here….wherever that was. She tried to remember the journey over here and was confused as to why the gunman hadn’t blindfolded her. Isn’t that what they usually do? She didn’t know. She wasn’t an expert on these things like her father was.
Her father… she remembered his pathetic, lifeless body on the couch. The Western movie long ended and there was only the sound of the late night TV commercials to keep him company. He must have looked a sorry state when the killer arrived, probably thought he was doing the old man a favour. She wondered whether he woke up just in time to see the face of his own murderer. She worried that he would have been scared. But she stopped herself. Why should she care? She should be grateful that monster in her life was gone. He was a bastard, a coward, a criminal, an absolute dirty dog of a man. She looked at the door and wondered if she had just been delivered from one monster to another.
~
Carl’s mind was running ragged as he sped through the night. Soon enough he’d be at his boss’ house and would have to tell him everything. But did he? He couldn’t possibly tell him that he’d spared the life of a witness, the Don would kill him. But he felt wrong killing innocents - that’s what his Navy SEAL training had taught him to do, and years after leaving the military, he still tried to fight for freedom and honor. But that was more difficult to do now he was tangled into the Mob.
He ran a hand through his hair as he looked in the mirror at the stoplight. He was only a few minutes away from the Don and was trying to get his story straight in his head. Just tell him you killed the girl, no one has to know otherwise. He repeated the phrase in his head like a mantra.