Coming Back Home

New York is a stunning city when allowed to be. Most of Lyndon’s clients had been from New York. Many of the people they wanted out of the way were from New York, it was a city which he had spent a lot of time in. A city he still wasn’t bored of. Yet New York was fast moving, busy and someone of his character: Short, small and the latest edition of crippled, would get lost. Easily. So they had taken a cab from the airport to Fayth’s apartment in Manhattan. He was helped up the stairs by a doorman. “Lay on the sofa. Sleep. You’re out of practise, vulnerable to jet lag. You need rest. I’ll wake you when I’ve made some food.”
Though he tried he didn’t sleep for long. He woke up suddenly, sweating and scared. He tried his best to hide it but failed. “Nightmare?”
“Sure.”
“You have them often?”
“Occasionally.” He sat up looking at the floor rubbing his eyes.
“It’s not abnormal. Anyway, now you’re awake I have a gift for you” She walked quickly into a room not closing the door. She was back a moment later with a large wrapped present with a ribbon on the top. “Open it.” She sat on the floor, cross legged and bouncing with excitement. “Please.”
He shrugged and pulled off the ribbon opening the present taking out a large black leather box. Inside was a small dagger, a gold coloured handle with a strange crest and jewels on the front, a leather sheaf and a decorated blade. Beneath was a gun a recognised he took it in his hand and smiled, it felt right in his hand, comfortable. “You left it in my apartment in London when you…. Left unexpectedly?”
“I know.”
“I like to keep souvenirs when I found out you’d be working with me, I thought I’d give it you back.”
“How kind of you.”
“Aren’t I a dear?”
“No.”
“Meanie.” She stood and patted his head, much as though he were a dog. “Now be a good boy and don’t play with weapons in the house.”
“Yes mom.” He cringed at the words remembering everything he had found out. When Lyndon was a child, the age of nine, his biological parents had been murdered by an intruder, he had watched quietly from the kitchen, hugging his teddy bear and pretending he wasn’t there. When the police had come he hadn’t talked about it, but the killer had stared right at him, their eyes had met and then the man had walked away leaving Lyndon alone in the world. Alone that is until when at aged ten he had been adopted, and then events had unfolded and he was where he was thanks to the same man who had adopted him. The man he now called dad.
Fayth was dancing around the kitchen humming to herself as she threw a mixture of ingredients into the potion she was making – something she called soup. “Fayth.”
“Lyndon.”
“Why did you get me? There must be some reason.”
“There is. I need your expertise.”
“In?”
“Pain. You’re better than I in making the pain last, in making them speak.”
“That might be so but there are others who can do that too. Why me?”
“I want you to have a second chance.”
They ate in silence before Fayth showed Lyndon to his room. He laid on the bed closing his eyes falling asleep instantly. She waited till she was sure he was sound asleep before taking a bandage from the bathroom wrapping it around the shin she had torn. She sat on the edge of the bed watching him sleep. For the first time in very long she felt guilty for what she had done to him.

When morning came Fayth was out of bed first, still in her pyjamas skipped through the apartment and into the kitchen making coffee and toast taking a kitchen knife in her hand she walked daintily into the room where Lyndon lay asleep. “Mr Sleepyhead!” He didn’t wake only rolled onto his side pulling the pillow over his head. “Oh? You think it works that way? Okay…” she put the coffee and toast on the table by his head taking the kitchen knife hard into the metal of his false leg, and through it. He jolted up.
“Ooops sweetie did I wake you?” She looked at his leg “Damn did that miss? Sorry I was aiming for your heart…. Though I think it bounced off the black hole and into your leg. Interesting…. Well. Explains why you didn’t die the first time. You have food. If you creatures eat food.”
“I hate you!” He pulled the knife out of his leg throwing it back in her direction, she effortlessly caught it in her hand
“So predictable..” She turned and left putting the knife on the kitchen side jumping slightly as the phone rung. She lifted it up putting it to her hear. “Hello?”
“Fayth.” She swallowed hard hearing that mans voice. “Faythy, I heard what you did. That’s bad of you. Playing that card. I’ll kill you both and be done with it. I’ll even have fun doing it. How does that sound for you baby?”
“Don’t call me that!”
“You’re both dead. I have your new address.”
She was almost in tears “I know that! You have my number! Fucking asshole!” She hung up the phone and hit the floor just in time to miss the bullet which shot through the window. The door behind her slammed Lyndon stood by the window gun drawn, he looked carefully. “There’s no one there. Now you wanna talk? Why am I really here?”
She stood slowly nodding. “Guess you were going to find out.”
“I want to know who and what I’m up against.”
“You know him. I believe you do.”
“Who?”
“Derk Englewood.”
“So that’s why…. Yeah… We’re gonna need bigger guns.”
“How big?”
“I was thinking a fucking bazooka. He’s not my dream guy to be facing.”
“But you know his weakness?2
“Sure, but I know what he’s capable of. And its something you’ve not so much dreamed of dear.”
“Lyndon come with me.” He was reluctant but followed as she entered her bedroom. “Don’t look through my stuff.” She pulled a remote control from her drawers pressing a button opening a door in the wall. She stepped through it taking four guns and handing two to Lyndon. “They aren’t perfect, but hey, it works.”
He took all the guns from her hands “from this moment on, you’re in my care. You’re not an assassin whilst I’m here you got me? You’re a woman, he’ll use that against you.”
She sat in the end of the bed. “What so you want me to be a good girl? Not kill anyone? Like a little kitty not a tiger? Your so mean. But I could do it for you sweetie.” She stuck her tongue out, a deliberate attempt to make him blush.
“Stop it!”
“Make me.”
“I’ll gag you.”
“Well, if you’re into that…”
He rolled his eyes turning away returning to the window. “Derk! Asshole! How’s your sister?”
Another bullet fly passed his head. “Glad to know you’re still there. Wanna negotiate?”
“Lyndon. I want you to die.”
“So did this bitch, but it doesn’t work that way. I want never gets.”
“I’ll rephrase. You’re a dead man walking.”
“Nice..” Lyndon hit the floor crying as the silver heel collided with his groin, he whimpered looking up at her, hatred in his eyes.
“Sorry sweetie, needs must, I wanted to talk to this dick. I didn’t want to have to hurt you.” She leaned out of the window. “Jerk! I mean… Sorry.. Derk! Hi honey. I wanted to inform you you’re going to die. Thank you now bye bye.” The bullet skimmed her ear “Now now, place nice Jerk.”
She hadn’t seen him move, she gasped as Lyndon stepped onto the sidewalk pulling out his gun loading it. Everything they were saying was a murmur. “Children.” They both looked at her. “I know you’re getting a wonderful view of my breasts, which is why I’m asking. Can you speak up a bit?” They ignored her taking their conversation back to a murmur. She sighed, bored, closed her eyes opening them only as she heard a gun shot and a whimper “Finally! Some entertainment!”
She left the apartment quickly running down the stairs to the street holding a knife in her hand. She paused for a moment following the sounds of whimpering, she turned the corner seeing Lyndon on the floor, Derk holding a knife to his throat. “Oi! Jerk! He’s my punch bag!” her heel hit the back of his head causing blood to pool in his black hair. He cried out in pain putting the hands to the back of his head
“bitch!” He turned aiming the gun at her. “Prepared to die?” it happened quickly Derk jumped backwards as Lyndon brought his knee up hard and fast taking the opportunity, Fayth put her heel against his throat pressing down slightly.
“Move wrong and I promise I’ll kill you. Lyndon get up and go inside.” She watched as Lyndon got to his feet and limped inside. It was half an hour before she joined him, her face covered in cuts, her blouse ripped. “I’m just scratched, are you injured?”
Lyndon shook his head trying to breathe steady. “just out of shape.”
“Good then we’re leaving.”
“You’re insane? You think moving is going to help? He’ll find you.”
“You suggest staying and fighting?”
“I suggest that you accept this and just die.” He stood grabbing his jacket, about to leave the apartment she grabbed his arm, tears in her eyes.
“You cant leave me to die. Please.”
He took a moment to think. “Fine, but this doesn’t mean I give a damn. I tried that once. I got hurt.”
She agreed quickly packing a bag of clothes. “say Fayth, you got a car?”
“Sure. Why?”
“Load the trunk…. We’ll take a drive.”