Page 71 of The Killer Card

“You have to, Grishenka,” she whispers. Pulling back just far enough to make me look into her eyes, she cups my face. “You have to keep fighting. You have to live, Grishenka. One day you will leave this place, I know it. You just have to stay alive, if not for yourself then for me. And if not for me then for the mother who died so you would have the chance.”

She presses a firm hand to my chest. “I know your heart, Grishenka. It is pure and good. Do not let them tempt you into darkness.”

Kira wipes my cheeks of my tears and pats my chest again. “Go get cleaned up. Your face is red as a beet. Then your Grandfather wants to see you in his office.”

My eyes widen. “What?!”

She shakes her head. “Do not fret. He’s in a meeting and doesn’t expect you immediately. He said at the top of the hour.” She checks her watch. “You have twenty minutes or so. Go on, I’ll bring you something to eat while you wait to see him.”

Sucking at my teeth, I nod solemnly and wipe furiously at my cheeks, sniffing away the burning sensation in my sinuses. Kira gives me one last chastising look before disappearing down the hall.

Slipping into the bathroom closest to my room which has been designated mostly as mine- unless there are guests, in which case I need to vacate all my shit- I do as she says. I wash my face with warm water, put drops in my eyes, do another line off the counter, and fix my hair the way my grandfather prefers it. I still look like a teenage scumbag- guilty as charged- thanks to my sweatshirt and ripped jeans, but it’s all I have thanks to him and will have to do.

Grandfather rarely asks for me, and I already know what this is going to be about. He has a job he wants me to do. A meeting like this usually means it’s not going to be the safest but since I’m the most expendable member of his crew I get to prove myself. Again. And again. And again.

I make sure to finish the half a sandwich Kira brings me before knocking on Grandfather’s office door. “Заходи.” I take a deep breath through my teeth, open the door, and step inside my grandfather’s office to the overwhelming scent of cigar smoke and brandy.

Grandfather doesn’t look up when I enter, his head bowed over a stack of paperwork. He only lifts his pen to point at the chair across from his desk. “Сядь.”

I take the seat and wait with my hands clasped firmly between my knees for him to be ready for me, trying not to let my feet fidget or my fingers tap. He hates when I make miniscule movements and I make so many when I don’t keep very careful control. The wait for him to set down his pen feels like an eternity, but eventually he does. Grandfather neatly sets the papers aside and leans back in his leather chair. He tosses his glasses upon the desk surface, eying me quietly for much too long.

Eventually he reaches out for his cigar, relights it and after a long puff says, “I hear you had another disagreement with Andrei.”

Sucking at my teeth, I avert my gaze to his bookshelves. “Maybe they should start informing you of the times we do agree.”

“Don’t be smart with me, boy.”

Bowing my head I murmur, “Sorry, Sir.”

He grunts, taking another puff of his cigar and I feel his eyes boring into the top of my head like a brand. “You should do better to take after Andrei. You work hard enough, one day you might have his position.”

Because that’s my fucking dream.

“That is of course, under very unfortunate circumstances,” Grandfather adds.

I nod. “Yes, Sir.”

“I have a job I want you to do,” he tells me, flicking ash off the end of his cigar. “Look at me when I’m talking to you!” I sit up straighter, meeting his eyes. “I have a job for you. One that I think will be beneficial to you and my entire establishment in the future.”

Reaching into his desk, I watch with wide eyes as he places a gun on the surface and then an envelope, neatly sealed.

No…

“I- by which I mean you- have been tasked with taking care of someone who has decided they are no longer willing to cooperate with our employer. Because their last location was within our jurisdiction, it is our job to make sure there’s no need to locate them again.”

My hands are shaking between my knees as Grandfather slides the gun and the ammo my way. “You know how to use one. Load it.”

Trying to steady my trembling, I reach out and mechanically load the weapon the way I was taught at twelve years old. Even Kira makes it a point that I use the basement range at least once a month.

I hate it.

I hate the noise when they go off. I hate the refraction in my bones. I hate how my finger can finally reach the safety and the trigger at the same time now that my hands are big enough to manage the gun’s size.

Grandfather tosses the envelope toward me. “Name and address are in there. You’ll leave tonight and you will not leave unless you’re certain this person is no longer a threat—”

“No.”

The word slips between my lips before I can stop it, my eyes still trained on the gun in my hand when something inside just snaps. All I can hear is Kira’s voice, her hope- do not let them tempt you into darkness.