I can’t fathom that I have a literal baby inside of me. It is so fascinating.“Hey, there.” Henry enters the room and startles me when he speaks.I stroke my hair and I smile.“Hey, Henry.” I reply.He looks like he was in a war. I believe that he is having one of the worse hangovers right now. He drank so much last night.“Are you feeling alright? You gave me quite a scare last night.” He says and I sigh.I instinctively look at my stomach, and then I lift my eyes back to him.“Yeah...I guess I drank a little too much.” I say with a tentative smile.“Did the doctor tell you anything?” I ask and he walks closer to me.He is shirtless and has on baggy pajama pants.“Oh, he didn’t say much. He only said that you drank too much and you need to stay hydrated and rest.” He informs me and I nod slowly.Good, that means the doctor did not tell Henry that I am pregnant. “That’s all?” I ask him and he nods.“Pretty much.” He replies.The dull he
“Where are you going?” Henry asks me as I walk towards him. He is in the living room slumped on the couch.“At my apartment.” I reply him and he chews on the half eaten apple in his hand. This guy is always chewing on something.“So soon?” He speaks without looking at me. His eyes are now glued to the giant flat screen TV.“Yeah, I guess. And oh, I’m using one of your cars.” I inform him and he looks at me.He studies me from my toe to my head and he smiles.“I see you are back to your old self.” He says with a smirk.“And you can use whichever car you wish to.” He adds.I thank him and I exit the house. There are a lot of cars to choose from. I may choose the black sleek Ferrari, it seems to fit my personality more.“Ma’am, how may I help you?” One of the guards walk up to me and asks.His features remind me of one of the clients I worked for some time ago, he was Asian and very wealthy.“Henry gave me permission to use one of the cars.” I inform h
So it begins.My journey to redeeming myself from my first heartbreak. I have decided if I want to do this, then it means I would have to fully embody who I once was.I know it’s crazy because time passes and we change, but I don’t want change. I want to be the same person I were before I collided with Robert Jones.I want to forget him totally, but something tells me that that is just a wish that would unlikely come to pass.Considering that I am carrying his baby, he is going to be a part of my life whether I want him to or not.I thought deeply about just going to a low key clinic and getting rid of the baby, but I don’t want to honestly.That’s the crazy thing. Although I am scared to be a mother and I hate that I do happen to be pregnant for a guy that cheated on me, I want to keep it.This is a gift, a miracle. I was infertile for as long as I can remember, and here I am, pregnant. This is so precious.But
It is a perfect shot and the man drops to the ground as soon as the bullet makes contact with his forehead. Panic awakens and everyone seems to be running for some form of cover. They don’t need to worry, the person I came for is already singing with the angels, or let’s say, dancing in the flames of hell.I withdraw my weapon and I place it back into the golf bag as quickly as possible. I need to be out of here because the police would be here in about ten minutes or less.I clear the sniper nest that I made and I place everything back into my backpack.I then jog towards the staircase that would help me exit the rooftop. When I reach it, I descend it two at a time and in no time, I am already on the floor that the construction workers were.But the coast is clear, no one seems to be here. I believe they have all gone to check out the commotion across the street, or they are hiding for their own lives thinking that the sniper is still a
The man smiles and I study his actions carefully. He could have another weapon, so I have to be careful.“I don’t believe you know me.” The man says, and though I am aiming a weapon at him, he does not seem to have a hint of fear.“Oh, really now?” I answer him sarcastically and he chuckles.“I’m only going to ask you one more time, who the heck are you, buddy?” I add and he sighs.“I’m Oliver Martins, I am a detective and I work with the NYPD.” He confesses and my eyes widen a bit.Oh my gosh.How—how did he know I would be here at this particular time?Well, he is a detective.But the thing is, my case was dropped.“You don’t need to be alarmed, I’m not here to do anything to you, I just want to talk.” He says when he notices my troubled facial expression.“I thought my case was closed.” I remind him and he smiles lopsidedly.“You look so beautiful in person. We spent years trying to
Oliver, the detective falls to the ground with a thud and he clutches his leg; specifically his thigh, for it is where I shot him.The gun he was holding is now a few feet away from him as he groans in pain.I walk closer to him and I kick the gun further away.He lets out strings of cusses as blood gushes out of the wound. Looking at the wound, I can tell that it is a perfect shot.It went right through.The bullet I shot him with is also a couple of feet from him.“Stop whining, you would be fine.” I say to him as I walk towards the kitchen to fetch a cloth so he can press it against the wound.When I return, I hand the cloth to him as I direct him.“Fold it and apply pressure to the wound by pressing the cloth at where I shot you.” I say and he does exactly as I instruct him to do.I kneel down and I apply more pressure to the wound by using the cloth and he winces.“Like that, okay?” I say
One of the definitions of TRAUMA is that it is a deeply distressing or disturbing experience.There is no doubt in my mind that I was traumatized from a young age. I saw my parents killed right in front of me. I heard them cry for help as they took their last breaths.And on top of all that, my only living relative, Charles did not want anything to with me. He literally declined to the responsibility of taking care of me.I was alone for a very long time, and I cried myself to sleep so many nights. I was so unhappy and always sad for so many years, and that was a nightmare for me.Being an assassin was where I found some form of joy. Every person I killed felt good, because it was like I was killing the man who murdered my parents over and over.Being an assassin brings purpose to my meaningless existence.“Jen..” I hear Oliver call for my attention and I finally lift my head up.I feel so vulnerable, as if I am naked, though I am not.“How do—how do you
It truly is Spencer Young. I don’t want to lie, this guy songs are exceptional, and I am; let’s say, almost a fan of him.“Hi.” He says with a rough masculine smile.Instead of giggling with glee or showing any hint of excitement, my facial expression is deadpan.“What do you want?” I ask in a bored tone. He looks nervous and he clears his throat.“Well, I need your help, I am in danger.” He says, and I chuckle.“If that’s so, then I think you got the wrong number, champ. This is not 911.” I reply to him and he sighs.His eyes are filled with worry and another emotion that I can’t seem to decipher.“Please, it’s not for free, I am going to pay you.” He speaks and then he looks around him, almost as if he is scared that someone could walk in on him while making this call.I stare at him for a while and I finally give in. At least I know it’s actually him and not some detective trying to set a trap