The Warmth of Coldness

Sharon pulled the trigger and watched as her 6’4 male victim’s  brains splattered onto his fine linen pillows. A perfect kill…no collateral damage, no evidence beyond what she anticipated…the pillow…and best of all no witnesses. The gun was untraceable; her employer had made sure of that. Her heart pounded from the thrill of the kill.

The world had too much bad for its own good. Sharon liked to help the world with its problem.

 “It’s done.” Sharon said into her cellphone. “Where’s the payment?”

“Your payment will come in due time…for now go home and spend some time with the family.”

“I don’t work for you because I want to. Let me make that very clear. Whatever I do, I do it for my son. I do it to put money on the table....”

“Spare me your lecture. You will get your four thousand. As you very well know, everyone gets what they deserve from me, just as that poor bastard lying there did.”

Sharon chuckled, and hung up. A good sense of humor never hurt.

She took off her kill clothes, standing naked in front of the mirror. Still fairly fit for a woman of 43…and a mother…Sharon meticulously stashed her black camouflage into a plastic bag which she stowed into the duffel bag and planned to dispose of. She pulled out her civilian clothes from the duffel bag, changed into them, and left the house.

Crime paid well…to most she was a hard working secretary and soccer mom of one, possibly struggling to make ends meet. But she sat on a fat sum of 2 million from her contract killings over the past 20 and odd years.

“Jack!!!!” Sharon yelled up the stairs, cupping her hands over her mouth. “Jack!!! It’s 6:40! The bus is going to be here in another 10 minutes, hurry up!” No response. Sharon stormed upstairs, into her 17 year old son’s room where he was fast asleep.

She pulled his blanket off, and shook him awake. “Jack! Wake up!”

“Uhh…mom…come on…I was over at Brett’s last night.”

“Yes, till 1:00. And who’s fault is that?! Now come on, your bus is going to be here.”

“Class doesn’t start till 7:10. Can’t you drop me off?”

“No, I’ve been doing that for the past three weeks, and look where that’s gotten you. Now go!” she pointed to the bathroom. Jack reluctantly took his towel and headed inside.  “And you know what?! You’re making your own breakfast, so hurry up!!”

Sharon nearly slipped running down the stairs. She hustled into the kitchen, pulled out two slices of bread and jammed them into the toaster. Just as she pulled out the butter, her phone went off.

“Hello?”

“Black escalade, Lebrun Autoshop. Be there in 15 minutes.”

“My son is about to leave for school!”

“Be there…or no payment.” The caller hung up.

“Fuck!” she swore, doing her best to keep her voice down. “Jack hurry up!”she yelled, and heard the shower turn on. “God Jack you still haven’t started showering?!”

“I can’t help it mom, I couldn’t find my toothpaste.”

“Well why didn’t you call me?”

“Because the door’s soundproof.”

“What?”

“From the inside.”

“Just get showered and get down here!” She ran back, and smeared butter over the toast, wrapping it in a paper towel.

Jack came rushing out, his long brown hair flopping around wet as a mop.

“This is what you wear? These jeans?!” she yelled. “They are torn in all the wrong places!”

“What? It’s all I had.”

“Oh come on Jack, I took your clothes out of the drier just yesterday! Whatever, you’ll learn when you’ll learn. Come on, you have 3 minutes…make yourself something and go!” she yelled, pushing him towards the kitchen.

Jack ran towards the counter and pulled out two slices of bread, There wasn’t enough time to toast, so he pulled out the carton of Country Crock Butter, and smeared it onto both slices hastily. He turned to head towards the door,

“Forgetting something?” Sharon pointed to the carton.

“Come on mom, put it away yourself.” Jack sulked, slumping his shoulders.

“You made the breakfast, you clean up…come on…chop chop!” she clapped her hands. Jack nearly threw the carton back into the fridge and grabbed his backpack, bolting towards the door.

“I love you!” she yelled out at him as he ran towards the bus.  

“Mom!” Jack frowned at her, before climbing on.

Sharon raced off the driveway, waving to her son…who as usual just ignored her.

She had five minutes left before the payment became invalidated. The speed limit signs were a sort of blessing; none under 50 miles per hour. Lebrun Autoshop was about 10 minutes from her house, so she slammed her foot on the gas.  

At exactly 7:04 she pulled up in front of the auto shop, screeching to a halt. The black Escalade sat waiting at the other end. Her phone buzzed again.

“You cut it close Sharon.” Her boss taunted.

“Yeah whatever. Now where’s the money?”

“Come unarmed. And don’t even think about sneaking in that switchblade you brace to your ankle.” He hung up.

Sharon stepped out of her Camry, gently closing the door. The Escalade kept running, the lights bright. Sharon warily traversed closer.

She reached the passenger window. It rolled down, and a black suited arm dropped a duffel bag outside. Sharon had hardly bent down to collect it when the Escalade’s engine roared and the SUV tore off into the main street.

Her phone buzzed…

“Satisfied?” her boss asked.

“That driver ought to get his license revoked.”  

“Good bye Sharon.”

Sharon pushed her shopping cart down the Cereal aisle. It was rare that she got a free day like this. Just a payment to pick up and no other engagements. Her phone buzzed. It was a text message from her son.

Mom, pick me up after school

Sometimes Sharon ruminated over her divorce. Was it really the right choice? Todd may have been a bad husband, but he had still been a great father. As hard as it was to believe, he’d never missed a single one Jack’s soccer games. Always present at every one to cheer on his son.

Special K was up a dollar…and so were the Cheerios…with her annual salary close to 90,000 she couldn’t complain…Sharon took two boxes of Honey Nut Cheerios. For her, there’d never been a coupon when she most needed one.

When Todd was around everything had been so vivacious…so full of life and energy…for everyone except for herself. She had the privilege of being the black sheep. Sharon always had been that way. No siblings to meld with so she’d always been a lone wolf. Sometimes she saw that attitude in Jack. Todd had been there to buffer it most of the time, taking him out with his friends’ sons.

Now, it was all gone. Everything. No phone calls, except from some stray friends Jack had picked up at school. None of whom she approved, yet what could she do…the house was lonely enough as it was. Robbing him of those friends would mean he’d live the rest of his life in a shell, as she’d done. No parents nearby, no friends…a job that was void of emotion. She’d lived her whole life on the mainland…yet her heart lived on an island, distant from everything and everyone.

But Todd couldn’t stay. He worked late hours. Sure, he was a great father…but wasn’t she important as well? Perhaps not, but at that time she had felt so. He always seemed to have time for Jack, but never for her. No romantic trips to the Caribbean, or to Paris as he’d promised time and time again. No dinners at a five star restaurant. Nothing. Was it too much to ask for a peck on the cheek? Was she really so unhuman? She’d passed many a bullet through other people’s hearts but she could say for certain that she preferred that to the many bullets that Todd had passed through hers.

Why had it been killing? She asked herself the question everyday. Why a hit-woman of all occupations? Not out of remorse. Sharon liked the job very much, yet she couldn’t even pinpoint why. Perhaps the emptiness of her childhood. She never had the upper hand in anything. Abused by her boyfriend, and abandoned by her family…she could never go the whole nine yards to bring justice. A cop, only shot when shot at. A lawyer was a liar. Detectives were greedy. Someone had to clean up the streets…

Her phone buzzed again…

Hey mom, I’m going over to Brett’s tonight. You don’t have to pick me up. Will be back for dinner

Okay honey…love you J  she texted back.

Brett, that 5’4 twat. Slacker, coke and gaming addict with a father too rich for his own good. Wouldn’t be too long before Brett dropped out of college and begged for a spot in his father’s company…Theodore Russell & Associates; A law firm for the corrupt and greedy. Brett was on the fast track. Yet she couldn’t help but to accept that even the worst of the lot had a chance. She knew best. Cocaine and Marijuana were her two mantras during high school and even into her undergraduate studies at Rutgers. By then she understood that sluts and crack whores weren’t exactly secretary material…and especially not for the kind of secretary she aimed to be.

It was 6:00 by the time she got home. 15 minutes to catch a quick break and another to get some spaghetti ready for Jack when he returned. 

Ever since Todd left the power bill had come down…she tried to laugh about that every once in a while. The house was mostly dark when she came home. Usually she just left them on when she was in the room. In her life, Sharon was always in the spotlight.

The spaghetti took five minutes less than usual to make, the sauce spread over smoothly and the sweet aroma pulled her out of the dark abyss which pulled her from around.

It was the wait that was the problem. Jack came in at 7:30, an hour late.

“Hey mom, I’m home!” he called into the house.”

“I can see that.” She said, striding into the hallway. “So, how was it?” Sharon asked him as he dropped his bag on the ground.

“Good, hey what’s for dinner?”

“Nothing.”

“What do you mean nothing?”

“I mean like, you were one hour late so I just ate it all.” Sharon lied.

Jack grumbled, and shuffled towards the fridge. “You’re such a bitch.” He muttered.

“What was that?!” Sharon snapped.

“Nothing.”

“Didn’t sound like nothing to me.”

“I said you’re a bitch! Alright, ever since dad left you’ve just been so uptight!”

“Uptight? Excuse me? Who was one hour late for dinner tonight? Who stayed over at that druggie’s house?!” Sharon glared at Jack.

“Yeah, he snorts coke every once in a while mom. Big whoop, we all have our flaws. Look at you, going to work at all weird hours, not being at home for me. Not even telling me what you do for work…it’s not like you work for the CIA or something. And like this morning. School’s like a 10 minute walk away, that’s all. It’s not like if I miss the bus it’s the end of the world. And is it such a monumental task for you to make me some toast before I go off to school? Jesus, you are so uptight.” He whined.

“Since when did you become religious?”

“Since I could stop counting on you.”

Sharon darted forward, grabbing her son by his collar and pushed him up against the refrigerator.

“Since you could stop counting on me? You counting on me? Jack you wouldn’t even be alive…without me. I pay for your food, I cook your food, heck I even feed you your food. From now on, you’re making your own breakfast. You get up late, it’s your own problem. I’m sorry Jack, but I have helped you enough. It’s time you started relying a little more on yourself.”

“You don’t feed me.” He mocked.

“Shut up! You are a sitting duck without me Jack!” Sharon screamed into his face, digging her knuckles into his shoulder, pushing him harder into the refrigerator. “All my life I had to fight for what was mine! I was an only child and my own parents didn’t support me. I had to pay for my food, for my education, for my rent, and everything!!! I was on my own. My house was a shell!!! You were born with a silver spoon in your mouth, you know that? Everything just handed to you. You beg for cereal, there it is. You beg for an Xbox, there it is. When was the last time you went out and had to work on the streets for even just 20 dollars huh? When did you ever bend backward to achieve anything? I practically lived on the streets!”

“You’re pathetic. Dad would never have said that. Everything was perfect till you started begging for that stupid divorce!”

Sharon smacked Jack across his cheek…he stumbled into the sink. “Ow.” He grimaced.

Her temper had gotten the better of her. It had all gone too far. Jack was still her son.

“Jack…Jack?” her voice quivered as she rushed forward. “Jack are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” Jack grumbled and swatted her hand away.

“Jack, I’m sorry.” She said, placing a hand on his shoulder only to have it shaken off. “Jack, there’s still dinner, I didn’t eat any of it. I’d never do that, not without you.” Sharon shook her hands in denial. Her voice cracked up, and she choked on a sob. It wasn’t long before she was on the ground, back to the wall, crying like a child. 

After another half an hour, Jack came down, wearing a shirt with a picture of a busty blonde drinking a bottle of Bud Light while simultaneously getting her buttocks licked by an inner city thug. He wore baggy shorts and torn socks.

“So where’s the dinner?”

“On the table Jack…I’ll be right there.” Sharon sniffled and stood up. She strode to the sink and took a minute to wash her face, doing her best to wipe away all the dried up tears. Yet she knew that there were many more sobs trapped inside.

Jack turned on the light in the dining room, and pulled over the bowl of spaghetti that Sharon had set aside for him.

“I used your favorite sauce. That Prego thing you were telling me about.” She smiled, as she sat across the table from him. “So…how was school?” Sharon asked, slurping up some pasta.

“You’ve got some sauce on your lip…right there.” Jack pointed so meticulously.

“Oh, sorry…” Sharon smiled and dabbed it away with her napkin. “So, like I was saying…school…how was it? What’d you talk about?”

“You missed a spot, on the side there.” He pointed again.

“Sorry.” She wiped.

“It’s still there.”

“Goddammit Jack!!! Can’t you see I’m trying to have a conversation here?” Sharon threw up her hands in exasperation.

“Yup, and try you will.”

“You know what?” Sharon fumed, “I thought I knew you…when you were young and innocent. You were so sweet back then. When your dad was around Jack, yes when dad was around. But now, you have become ungrateful, disrespectful, and completely-“

Jack picked up his bowl and turned to leave,

“Gonna go watch some TV.” He mumbled, heading towards the living room.

“No you are not Jack! Jack get your ass back here and sit down.”

“Make me.” He glared at her and turned back towards the living room.

“Oh god, you are just hopeless.” She scoffed, and put her fork down.

“Since when did you become religious?” Jack asked from the room.

“Oh, shut up Jack!” she screamed, slamming her fist on the table. The bowl rattled. She swirled some more pasta around her fork and shoved it into her mouth. A small piece of the fork poked out, cutting her lip as she put it in her mouth. “Aah!” she gasped, running to the sink.

“Alright, look….if we’re going to make any headway,” Sharon started, as she entered the living room, “we’re going to need to establish some rules. Better ones.” She raised her eyebrows, staring into the back of his head.

“Like what?” Jack asked, keeping his eyes on the TV.

“Like this…” Sharon snuck over and snatched the remote out of his lap and turned the TV off. “You can’t watch TV when I’m trying to talk to you.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s disrespectful Jack.” Sharon hissed, pulling over a chair. “It’s disrespectful, when someone’s trying to reach out to you, for you to shut them out.”

“Well what if I don’t want you to reach out to me?” Jack asked stubbornly.

“Well then that’s too bad. We’re a family.”

“Hardly.” He scoffed turning back to his pasta.

“Alright, that’s it.” She snapped, and took the bowl from his hands.

“Hey!”

“Yeah, that’s a start. Hey, how’s it going?” she asked, as she put the bowl in the sink.

“Great…I just have a question.” He said…Sharon could smell the sarcasm on his voice.

“Yes, what is it?” she replied with the most pretentious smile she could fathom.

“Why the heck did you take my pasta away?”

“Well honey, it’s because in the civilized world…when people try to talk to us…we talk back to them!!! We have conversations!!!” she yelled at the top of her lungs.

Jack sighed, giving in…”Alright, look what do you want to talk about?” he asked, sighing.

“Well, let’s start with what you did over at Brett’s house?”

“I don’t know…played video games. Some Halo…” Jack shrugged it off.

“Which one?”

“What would you know?”

“Oh yeah, try me…Halo 4, where you follow Master Chief’s story after the Forward Unto Dawn crashes…and ironically another human ship on the Forerunner planet?”

“It’s called the Infinity. Him and Cortana get the messages and everything.”

“Yeah, but they’re still caught up in the gravity field so it pulls them in right?”

“How’d you know that?” he smiled. That was a start.

“Oh come on, I’m only 43 Jack, I can still keep up with your generation.”

Jack laughed lightly…

“Look, I wanted to tell you about Brett…”

“Come on mom, we were having a decent conversation for like-“

“Let me explain,” Sharon said softly, raising her hands up as if in surrender, “ Look…Brett is not a bad guy. Okay? His father seems like a decent guy. He has a wealthy back ground.”

“So that’s what it’s all about? The money?” Jack scoffed slumping into the couch. Sharon resisted the urge to scream again.

“No, it’s not. Brett just may not be the BEST person for you to hang out with. I know you guys go to soccer practice together, but lately…I’ve been hearing that his performance has been slacking. Do you think that’s okay?”

“Look, I know what you’re getting at. Brett’s a pothead, but he’s only been doing that for like a month alright? It’s not that bad. There’s worse that could happen.”

“I know there’s worse that could happen, and I’ve seen it happen myself. I don’t need to go into detail about it either. All I’m saying is…stay safe. I honestly don’t think you need to hang out with him as much as you do today.” Sharon said, her tone stern and her gaze serious. “You play soccer with him and then you come home.”

“Screw that. I have something good going, and you just have to shoot it down. Come on, what’s the worse that’s going to happen huh?” he asked. “You think I’m going to become a pothead?”

“No, but if you’re caught with him…things could get ugly is all I’m getting at.”

“I hang out with him literally every day, what do I say…’Oh Brett, I’m sorry…I know we’ve been hanging out a lot. I just can’t hang out anymore, sorry dude.’ “

“Maybe Jack, maybe that’s what you need to say…or you could be smarter and use the lies that you use on me…on him. Come up with an excuse. You learned this sort of stuff in middle school Jack. In sixth grade when they taught you how to get out of those stranger danger situations.”

“Well, he’s not a stranger.”

“Who cares…try it. You won’t know until you try.”

“Fine…I’ll tell him.” Jack said, averting his eyes.

“I know this is hard for you…alright.”

“Whatever…I’m tired.”

“Jack, it’s 8:30. Don’t you have some homework to do?”

“No.”

“Jack? Come on.”

“It’s just a little worksheet, that’s all” he said, shaking his head as he left the living room.

“Well then it should be fairly easy for you to complete then shouldn’t it?”

Sharon had picked the right battle, and she had won. Sometimes she could say quite honestly, that being a single mother was far more taxing than being a gun for hire. She groaned out of exhaustion as she pulled the covers over her body. She could still feel her Glock under her pillow as she adjusted her head. A constant reminder of who she was…or did it really have to be? Who was she truly? A question she often asked herself before going to bed. A mother or a cold blooded killer?

The morning routine was usual, with Sharon yelling at Jack yet again to get ready for the bus and him grumbling yet complying. But as promised, Jack had to make his own breakfast…and he did; he even managed to clean job, but at the end of the day Sharon knew that she had to keep pushing.

“Come on, let’s go…today!!!” Sharon snapped as Jack hurried to the door. “Love you.” She waved, with of course, the usual reciprocal frown.  

She hadn’t gotten any phone calls yet…a free day perhaps?

And as if to ruin her mood, her phone buzzed again,

“Hello?”

“We’ve got some bad seeds. Two actually. I’ll need the first one out by tonight.”

“Name?”

“Barry Lansing. He drives a Mercedes C-Class…Black…License plate reads ACENSHUN. Seems like a fanatic to me. What do you say Sharon?”

“Cut the crap and keep it secular. Where, and when?”

“Ah, I really do admire women who can make the distinction between business and personal matters. But come on Sharon, we really haven’t gotten to know each other beyond the weapon of your preference. Please indulge me a little.” He teased.

“Give me a location and a time, or else I’m not doing it.”

“Very well, very well. You really aren’t very fun Sharon. Lincoln Plaza…lot 4…6:00 PM. It’s a C240. I’ll text you the picture. Fancy car, wish I could drive it. Take care Sharon.” He finished and the line cut.

That meant no dinner for Jack.

Hey Sweetie, I won’t be home for dinner okay? I’ll leave some money on the counter. Buy yourself some pizza. Love you J

She sent the text.

Her target would be in the car. An up close and personal kill. She couldn’t make it messy. Too much of a hassle to clean up a car with brain and chunks of skull spattered all over it.

Sharon opened the glove compartment of her Camry and pulled out her garrote wire, stretching it an getting her hands around it. She hadn’t used it in over a year and contemplated its efficacy given her lack of practice…but if her training was any good it should work.

She’d learned to evade car alarms quite easily. It was one of her fortes. She picked the lock and slid inside, into the backseat, and slumped down. She was wearing her kill clothes: Tight black leather fabric that hugged her curves and reminded her of her excellent physique. She had to admit that it did a good job of enunciating her breasts. Too bad her victim wouldn’t have time to marvel at her anatomical perfection. No time to waste…

10 minutes passed…20 minutes passed…30 minutes…45…still no sign…What could it be?

Suddenly, the glass shattered behind her…ears ringing Sharon turned around to see a bullet hole clearly visible in the rear windshield.

She rolled forward…into the driver’s seat.

Another bullet tore through the rear windshield and bore into the dashboard. Sharon hadn’t brought her pistol.

She kicked the compartment beneath the steering wheel and found the two crucial wires to hotwire the car.

Another bullet…and another…and another rained in on the car.

The wires buzzed and crackled and the car roared to life. She shifted into reverse and sped backwards until she hit the turn. In the background she heard a few shots ping off the trunk, but her car swerved just in time.

Sharon could only thank the higher powers for not being pulled over. She stayed a consistent 20 miles above the speed limit until she hit the city’s outskirts. In the distance was an unoccupied construction site. Besides a few power lines there was nobody in sight.

Her phone buzzed.

“Hello Sharon.” her employer mocked.

“You think this is some kind of joke? I almost got killed!!!”

“Yes…quite frankly it is.”

“You very distinctly told me that my target would be in that car.”

“I did…and I told him I was very unhappy with him. I assure you I gave him no indication whatsoever that you specifically would be there to hunt him down. Looks like he got a bit cautious. My apologies.”

“Screw your apology.” Sharon hissed into the phone. “Who hired the sniper?”

“Oh it was probably Lansing...perhaps it was me…it’s really just need to know information that you do not need to know. It was a test Sharon…and you passed. I put all my employees through tests, don’t all companies do that. Now…I can tell you this much...the man who tried to kill you is of real interest. He is quite adept…”

“Jesus Christ, you hired him didn’t you? You sick bastard!”

“I play my games when I see fit. Now the more time we waste here, the closer he gets to your home…to your son…you left some money on the counter…for pizza?”

“Son of a bitch!” She yelled into her phone. “You leave my son out of this!” she kicked the car door.

“Now, then…the more we talk, the closer he gets…Now…I wanted to add. I have in the trunk, since you passed your test which I planned…another dossier. Information on your next target, an advance notice you could say. I wouldn’t look at it now if I were you. Get busy getting home.”  He chuckled and hung up.

“Bastard!” she yelled, and got into her car.

The buildings melted into their surroundings and pedestrians along with them. She didn’t know how she did it or what she went through to accomplish it, but in 10 minutes she was back on her street. Sharon pulled over four houses in front of her’s and got her Garotte wire ready…it was going to be a tight fight.

She jogged over to her house and entered through the back door of the garage. From there, she opened the door leading into the house, pushing it open slowly.

“Jack?!” she called out. “Jack?!” Sharon went further, entering the kitchen. She turned to the counter. The bills were still there. It was nearing 6:30. Jack should have returned. She had told him very clearly to be back.

Panicking, Sharon turned around to face a 6’2 burly man in a leather jacket.

“Why didn’t you die bitch?” he snarled, and reached around behind his jacket. Sharon saw it coming. She dove forward, sprawling towards his waist. Taken by surprise, he lost balance and stumbled, falling on his back. His arm was trapped underneath him, fingering the gun. Sharon didn’t give him a chance. She leaped onto his shoulders driving her knees into them. She grabbed his throat and pressed in with her thumb, choking him. He thrust up with his hips, and Sharon tumbled over his head. In a split second the large man was on his knees and had the gun out front. Sharon was too quick, she drop-kicked the gun out of his hand and pounced onto her feet. Her attacker was large, one of his biggest disadvantages. Too slow to get on his feet, he suffered another of Sharon’s scathing kicks to his temple. Sharon dove for the gun  and snatched it off the ground. As she turned to aim it at him, the man was already on top of her. Using her Jujitsu skills, Sharon dragged his left arm in, and locked her left leg over his neck, locking it with her right. She squeezed. Sharon’s legs were sinewy and strong…her greatest advantage. The man flushed, his temples bulging from the pressure. His eyes bulged and his neck was tensed. She squeezed harder. The man’s eyes rolled into his head. She squeezed harder. Finally, his body grew limp, and she released him, letting him fall onto her.

With much effort, Sharon slid out from underneath, and took hold of the gun. She trained it on his head. Her knuckles whitened as she clasped it tightly. Her finger closed around the trigger. The blood…the mess…the evidence…she couldn’t do it. Sharon dropped the pistol. It fired on impact…The bullet tore through the man’s head, and through the wall behind him. Blood sprayed across her pants and her shows were covered with bits and pieces of skull and brain.  

Her phone buzzed…a text from Jack.

Hey Mom…can I stay at Brett’s a little later tonight…I promise we won’t screw around…I promise. Love you J

Considering the fact that she had a 6’2 trained assassin, dead as he was, in her house…Sharon had no choice but to acquiesce.

Yes…just be careful… be home before midnight J

She sent the text.

There was no plastic bag, or duffel bag large enough to hold a man his size. She had to chop him. 

Sharon had once castrated a man…alive…so butchering a man who was dead was no issue for her. The problem was just finding the right knife…All her knives were too flimsy. Wal-mart was 20 minutes away…or she could ask her neighbor…If anything was found she could put it on her.

Sharon took off her bloodied kill clothes. Somehow standing naked over a dead man aroused Sharon...

In just minutes she’d changed into her every-day clothes and put her kill clothes in a plastic bag.

Sharon went to her neighbor Frank’s house.

“Hey Frank, listen, I’m carving some turkey tonight…my knives are just way to flimsy…you got any one of those heavy duty ones? Got to get in around the bone. ”

“Uhh…yeah…sure come in.”

“Thanks Frank, it means a lot. How’s Jean by the way?”

“Oh she’s doing well.” Frank went into the pantry,  and came back with a 4 inch butcher knife. “This’ll probably work.”

“Thanks Frank.” She smiled and hurried back to her house.

Sharon ended up cutting the body into 13 pieces and stuffed them into trash bags. She bleached the floor and saw to it that she left it looking good as new.

Upstairs were three duffel bags that she normally kept for vacation purposes. She stuffed the trash bags into the duffel bags, and zipped them up.

Sharon brought the Mercedes into the garage. She opened the trunk and stuffed the duffel bags in, taking out the dossier that her employer had left for her.

Theodore Russell…Brett’s father. He would be returning home tomorrow at about 3:30, alone.

Her phone buzzed, a call…from her employer…

“Good job Sharon. I knew you could handle him. I’ll tell you what…drive over to the Bay Bridge. It’s about 20 minutes from your house. There’ll be a silver Mitsubishi Outlander waiting there for you. Give the duffel bags to them. I assure you I have no intention of exposing you to the police. That would only implicate me.

Sharon drove over to the designated location, quite relaxed. Her heart had stopped pounding and her breathing was smooth. Nothing to make her look suspicious at first sight. As promised, there was an Outlander parked on the side of the Bay Bridge, and Sharon pulled up behind it, flashing her lights.

The trunk opened, and Sharon hoisted the bags into the trunk. Cars sped by beside them along the bridge.  It did surprise her how in such broad daylight, three duffel bags didn’t even arouse the suspicion of the passerby. Perhaps they were travelling too fast to care?

Sharon returned home, to find Jack sitting, watching TV.

“Hi honey.” She smiled, and kissed his head. “Did you have fun?”

“Uhhhh….ooohhhh….yaaaaaaa….” he drawled, a stream of saliva running from his lip.

“Jack?” Sharon asked, coming around to get a better look at him. “Jack, what happened…”

“Wwwwweeeee….haaadddd…ffffuuunnnn!!!” Jack smiled a very delirious smile, and his head slumped to a side as he continued to watch TV.

“You lying twat!” Sharon yelled, kicking his sofa. “I trusted you!” she yelled. “I trusted that you’d be careful and be safe and this is what you give me?! After all we went through…just yesterday?!!!”

“Whaaaaatttt?”

“Jesus Christ Jack, you’re high. You’re goddamn high! You know what? That’s it…I’m done with you. I AM DONE!” she yelled and stormed upstairs.

After all she’d been through. Sharon thought she’d slipped in through the cracks of the rock like heart of her son. Yet all she’d done was slip…further and further away. There was no hope.

Sharon didn’t bother to wake up her son. It was his life now…she had a job to do. Money to make, and his mouth to feed but beyond that she had no responsibility for him.

“Good bye mom!” Jack smiled as he left, but Sharon didn’t bother to answer.

He slowly turned, head pointed down and jogged off toward the bus.

She left some money on the counter again, and a quick note telling Jack she might be home for dinner.

3:30 came…quite expectedly. Sharon was ready to go. She was sitting in Theodor’s living room, the window open at her back. To her right was a large king size bed on which Theodore and his wife probably copulated nightly. To her left was the bathroom door.

Her pistol, was ready…the assassin’s was stuffed in the glove compartment of the Cadillac…Sharon screwed the silencer onto the pistol, and sat waiting. As anticipated, at 3:28 she heard the lock opening. Today would be the end of Brett Russell’s corrupt father. 3:29, he took off his shoes and climbed the stairs…3:30…Sharon saw that it wasn’t Theodore Russell…it was Brett…he saw her. She saw him.

“Uh….Mrs. Benson?...” his voice quivered. The boy who’d drugged her son. Yet still a teenager. Still a butterfly that was cocooning.  But what abomination would come out? He had hurt her son. But had he meant to? They were just kids. Kids who had made bad decisions. He had hurt her son. He had hurt her son. He had hurt her son.

Sharon fired.

The bullet ripped through Brett’s skull and spewed pieces of his skull onto the wall.

Sharon let out a deep breath, her hands shaking. All these years, killing had been a childs play…yet today…today she could not look into the eyes of her target…no into the eyes of the 17 year old boy that she’d murdered in desperation. She’d killed a boy young enough to be her son. Did it really make a difference that he wasn’t her child by blood?

A sob crept up her throat and Sharon fought it. She fought with all her might to keep it down. Her face reddened, and her eyes watered, and she threw aside her gun, falling to the ground in tears.

“Nooooo!!!!” she screamed. The cruel sound came again…her phone vibrated…

“Hello Sharon…I thought I’d help you out a little bit haha.  Theodore will be home shortly I promise. There must have been a little typo on the dossier I gave you.”

“You sick son of a bitch!!! He was 17!!” Sharon yelled into the phone.

“Quiet now. Wasn’t it you who had a problem with him to begin with. With your son spending time with him.”

“What have you done?” Sharon’s chest heaved with each sob.

“I keep tabs on all my employees. Make sure their lives are working out exactly as they will them to. Look at the bright side. He’s no longer an obstruction to your son’s development.”

“Shut up! Shut up! I killed a boy…I killed a baby boy…”

“Now, Now, Sharon…he wasn’t quite a baby. He was a teenager who should’ve very well been aware of his misdoings.”

“Screw you!” she yelled, closing phone.

It was another three hours of pain, misery, and sorrow until Theodore showed up…alone as the dossier had said.

She waited behind the door leading into the garage. It opened. Theodore walked in. Sharon pulled out a Garrote Wire, and wrapped it around his neck pulling with all her strength. Her muscles bulged as the wire cut into Theodore’s neck. Yet it wasn’t Theodore she  was killing. It was herself. Her cruelty, her disgrace, her lack of dignity…everything about herself that Sharon hated she killed. Theodore’s eyes bulged, and slid a little out of their sockets. His neck was nearly an hourglass by the time Sharon torqued the wire and snapped his neck once and for all.

“Aaaaaahhhhh!!!!” She screamed, staring up at the ceiling. “Aaaaaahhhhhh!!!!!”

“Mom….” Jack shuffled into the house.

“Hi honey.” Sharon said gently, hurrying up to him. Jack didn’t bother to look up. She quickly closed the door, and put an arm around his shoulder. “Hey…hey…look at me…what happened?”

Jack looked up at her and his eyes were red with tears, his cheeks flushed.

“Oh…baby…” she coaxed and pulled his head against her shoulder, embracing him. His whole body shook as he sobbed.

“He’s dead mom…and his dad…Brett was shot…weapon was untraceable so they’ll never find out who did it. Whoever did it cleaned up so good that we can’t even find the bastard!!”

“Shhh…shhh…I know, I know…” Sharon said and lightly kissed his forehead.

“You don’t know mom! You knew nothing!!! He was my best friend!! He was the one guy who stuck up for me in school when shit went down. He was the one guy who stuck his neck out for me. All you ever wanted was for me to stop hanging out with him. So what if he did a few drugs?”

“I was scared Jack…for you…”

“No…you didn’t give a shit about me!” he sobbed into her shoulder, his face red with anger, vengeance, and frustration. “I’m gonna find whoever did this. I’m gonna find that person…and I’m gonna kill them!”

“No you won’t…no you won’t baby…” she said softly, and kissed his head, running her hands through his hair.

“Yes I will!!! I’m going to see this through!!! Aaaaah!!!” he screamed.

A tear rolled down Sharon’s cheek and it wasn’t long before she too broke down into a volley of sobs, embracing her son even tighter.

“Leave me alone!!!” he yelled. “I want to be alone! Go!!!”

“Okay, okay honey…I’m going to go…”

Sharon got into the Cadillac, and pulled it out onto the main road. She returned and took her Camry.

It was a rainy day. The clouds were gray, and the breeze was cold. A very gray summer day. Life just seemed to move that much slower. People walked slower, cars moved slower, and traffic lights seemed to take forever to change. Sharon bought some groceries to pass time. Mostly things they didn’t need.

It was 10:00 by the time she returned.

“Jack? Jack, honey I’m home.” She said, walking in with her bag of groceries. No answer. “ Jack?”

She turned her head, and what she saw shocked her to say the least.

Jack lay on the ground, with a half filled cup of bleach in his hand. His eyes stared up at the ceiling.

“Jack!!!” Sharon yelled, dropping her groceries and running to his side. His left hand was clenched around something. She forced it open. Inside, she found the bullet. The one that’d killed the assassin. It was still stained with blood. Under his left hand was a note…

My mother is a liar, a hypocrite, and a murderer…what’s the use living this life?

“Oh my god Jack!!!” Sharon sobbed, pulling his head up to her chest, and hugging him close…” Jack!!!” she yelled, pressing her lips against his head. “Jack, I’m so sorry…”

“You should be…” a voice said. Sharon spun around, and from the shadows strode a hulking figure…he flicked the switch it was none other than Todd…

“Todd?” Sharon said, shocked, her grip on Jack loosening. “Todd…this…was you?”

“No Sharon…it was you. Your son’s not dead, I assure. He drank that Bleach just about 6 minutes before you arrived. You’ve got time.”

“It was you the whole time…playing me like a pawn!!”

“Not the whole time. I think you forget my job in the Consulate office. You know Sharon, at first I just thought you were working heavy overtime. Then I got suspicious. That’s when I started digging, and whoopee, I traced it back to nothing. I had you followed and it all led back to that guy. So I found that guy and I killed that guy. Then I took his place. It was too late by that point Sharon, you had it coming. Thought you could play me all that time? Thought you had the upper hand?!!.” Todd hissed at her. “You had the nerve to ask for that divorce. Now look what you’ve done to your own son.”  

“He’s your son too!!!” Sharon yelled.

“Not anymore!”

Sharon leapt to her feet…”Todd, look at me! Forget about me, and what I did. I’ll suffer for that later. This is Jack we’re talking about.”

“Oh, he’s your responsibility now Sharon. You wanted to keep him all to yourself didn’t you?”

“Todd, I’m sorry.” Sharon sobbed, putting her hands on his chest, and begging. “Todd, please let me just get help.” She tried to step around him but Todd cut her off with a bulky arm.

“You have 5 minutes before he dies…if support arrives in time, he lives. If you get through me…then you can do as you wish.

“Oh you bastard!!! You sick twisted son of a bitch!!!” she yelled, slamming her fists on his chest. He grabbed her hands, and tightened his grip around her wrists.

“Keep hitting me like that and I’ll break both your wrists.” he said coldly,

Sharon calmed down. Her breathing slowed, and her rage focused on one thing…getting Todd out of the way. She aimed a solid kick toward his groin which Todd fell victim to.

“Gaaah!” He yelled doubling over. Sharon freed her hands and aimed a roundhouse kick at his ribs, knocking him further back. Todd reared and pounced at Sharon, knocking her off her feet. She arched her back to cushion the impact and eased herself down. Todd forced himself over her, but she had her legs locked round his ribs. She pressed in with her knees and dug into his ribs.

“Aaaacchchhh!!!” he gurgled, and punched her stomach. It was as if a brick had hit her, her eyes seemed to bulge out of their sockets, and she struggled to breathe. Still, Sharon wrapped her arm around Todd’s neck, putting him in a headlock, and squeezing with her legs. He stood up, and threw himself down against the sofa, Sharon’s back slammed into the armrest. “Aaah!” she yelped, but clung on. She squeezed harder, and dug deeper with her knees. Soon enough Todd stopped struggling, and he collapsed just as the assassin had done. Sharon wasted no time in sliding out… and rushing to the phone.

“Hello, yes…this is Sharon Benson. My son just consumed about a half a cup of bleach. He’s on the ground…unconscious…I don’t know. He isn’t responding…please help!!!” Sharon yelled desperately into the phone.

She did her best to put up with their volley of questions…and sat in anticipation, until the ambulance showed up.

“Here, right here…” Sharon pointed. “This man…he’s my ex husband. He forced my son into it. He forced him to attempt suicide.” She gestured. The medics picked up Jack and hoisted him onto the stretcher and carried him into the ambulance.

“Mrs. Benson?” The nurse smiled at her in the waiting room.

“Yes…is my son…”

“I was just going to tell you.” She said softly, “he’s doing fine. They managed to pump his stomach…I will tell you he is weak right now. So I strongly advise that you do not converse for long. But otherwise, you are free to see him and talk.”

The nurse led her back to Jack’s room. He had an IV packet hooked up to him and a vitals monitor connected to his chest. On his table was a small glass of milk.

“Hey baby…” Sharon smiled as she strode over. She moved his hair back, and kissed his forehead. “How’re you feeling?”

“Tired.” Jack smiled weakly.

“Well, that’s expected. Everything’s gonna be okay. Doctors said you’ll be fine.”

“I know mom. They told me too.”

Sharon stifled a sob, staring into her son’s eyes. He had her eyes. Deep and blue and pure. They were gentle eyes.

“I’m just glad you’re okay that’s all.” Sharon said, voice cracking up. Still, she swallowed her sobs and kept a smiling face.

“Thanks mom…”

“Well, I’ll be just outside if you need me.” She said, turning to leave.

“Wait, mom?”

“Yes honey?”

“I had a dream…while I was you know…under and everything…”

“A dream…”

“These hands…they were pulling me…these big dark hands. I tried to get them off but I just couldn’t. I wrestled them, but they were too strong. I called out for help…and that’s when you came. You were kinda glowing…all nice and shiny and I could feel it. You hardly even stepped near me but their grip was already loosening. Then you gave me your hand, and I took it…and I just felt this warm feeling…it went straight through me…to my heart. It touched me there. It was so…I don’t’ know…so pure…like all this love just hit me. I grabbed on with my other hand and I felt even better. Before I knew it, you were pulling me away from there. I was crying….’cause I was so happy. Happier than I’ve ever been before. And you rescued me. You pulled me outta that rut and that’s when I woke up.” Jack smiled, a tear rolling down his cheek. 

Sharon couldn’t hold it back anymore. She burst into tears, her shoulders shaking with each sob. But she too like her son had…was crying tears of joy. The tears flowed down her cheeks,  around her lips and into her mouth. Yet as salty as they were, they felt so sweet. That pure joy…that genuine warmth was something that neither had felt in a long time. Yet here they were, together as she’d always wished, with nothing but love between them.