Page 25 of Acts of Contrition
I smile. “Oh, I hope he struggles at least a little.”
The popular idiom is, if one kills a killer, the amount of killers in the world remains the same. Not so.
If one kills many killers, the amount of killers in the world diminishes. Some philosophers should at least attend math class a few times. And if one kills those who would harm innocent women and children … I consider that pest extermination.
“Well, well, look what the cat dragged in.”
Hank sits behind a battered desk, his dirt-crusted boots on top of probably important paperwork, hands behind his head. His lank, greasy hair hangs loose in his face. He added a neck tattoo since I last saw him. No one would guess this man is a multi-millionaire.
Nor would they guess that about me, I suppose.
“How’s the funny farm treating you and Lisa?”
I grin at him, tossing hair from my face. “Lisa settled in faster than I did, but I admit it’s a nice life. Better than this one.”
“And yet you still darkened my doorstep. What the fuck do you want?” Despite his coarse words, his tone is friendly. Lisa and I are the only people to leave Hank’s organization and live. He can use some good, upstanding church members to back him up if the cops ever come calling. And they will, eventually. He gave us a pretty good living, so we won’t hesitate to help him.
“How much to have you clean up after me tonight?”
“You taking contracts again? The church allows that?”
I shake my head. “There’s a man taking advantage of vulnerable women and children. I need him gone. As part of my penance, to ensure I am worthy of my fiancée.”
Hank’s eyes flare. “Free. Just call me as usual when you’re done. Fucker hurting kids, I hope you make it last long, Tommy.”
I grin, going to the hidden cupboard in the far left wall for my weapon. “Oh, trust me, I plan on it.”
It’s been five days since I got Oliver’s permission to take care of Rick. I had to wait until Joe hacked into the city’s files and created a sale transfer of the building deed into my name.
I didn’t cancel Diana’s lease. I want him angry, and there at midnight, just like what he did to her before. I need to look him in the eyes as he sees the Earthly punishment God has sent upon him.
Inside the apartment, I sit on the edge of her still unmade bed, calm. My heart rate is normal, my breathing even. Even my nerves do not thrum. The adrenaline will hit soon enough, but for now I am at peace with what I am doing; I am in the right.
I check the time on my phone and quickly shut the screen so no light emerges from under the closed bedroom door.
Twelve-oh-one.
Right on time, the front door of the apartment rattles, and locks turn. The sound is as loud as a gunshot in the silence.
“Diana!” Rick’s abrasive voice cuts through the still. I nearly flinch at the sound; not something I would typically admit to. It appears I’m a bit rusty. “Who the fuck do you think you are trying to skip out on rent, you little whore? The fuckin’ bums you suck off for two dollars didn’t pay you enough?”
There it is. My rage. Like an old friend, my rage and I have a long history, and it reminds me it exists every so often. Like when I am forced to beat Diana. It takes the edge off.
But it has been some time since I truly let the blackness out to play. Two years since there last was blood on my hands and peace in my soul.
I will remedy that tonight, and allow my rage to go back into its uneasy slumber.
The bedroom door opens, and the light flicks on.
Rick — a tall, nearly emaciated man with wisps of hair and an ill-fitting suit — stands in the threshold, staring at me in disbelief.
“You’re not — where is Diana Hill?” he barks, trying to cover up his discomfort. “If you’re her fuckin’ John, I told her not to bring it here to this damn building, so get the Hell out before I—”
“Oh, will youshut up?” I ask, standing to my full height. He’s taller, but I am fitter, and if I may say so, more imposing. “You’re the landlord?” I need to be sure before I go further.
“Yeah, and your whore is late on her rent!”
I nod, running a hand through my hair. “First of all, Diana is not my whore, she is my fiancée. Second, she owes you nothing on account of the fact she doesn’t live here, and you no longer own this building.”
