Protecting Her(113)

The target of my assignment was a lawyer who had worked for us in the past and was threatening to tell our secrets if we didn’t pay him millions of dollars. He was a bad man. He abused his wife, nearly killing her one night. But we used our connections to cover up his sins in exchange for him helping us. It was wrong, but that’s what we do.

When he made threats against us, I got the order to kill him. He lived in Manhattan so I drove there one night and found him in a bar having drinks with his mistress. When he left, I followed him.

It was late and dark and cold outside, so not many people were out. I snuck up behind him, shoved him into an alley and shot him. Not just once. But over and over again. And it felt good. It scared me that I was getting pleasure out of it, but at the time, I was so angry that it almost made sense that I felt that way. That’s how I justified it. The next day, I felt no remorse. I just went on as if nothing had happened. But that anger is still there. I’ve heard that anger is a stage of grief, so maybe I’m stuck in that stage and can’t move past it. I feel like I never will. I lost the woman I love and the man who was like a father to me, all in the same day. How do I get past that? How do I move on?

When I go upstairs later, Garret’s door is closed. I walk up to it and don’t hear anything. He must be asleep. I go down to my own room and change into pajamas and get into bed. As usual, I lie there unable to sleep. I can still smell her scent on the sheets. They’ve been washed many times, but they still smell like her. I thought of getting rid of them and buying new, but I haven’t been able to bring myself to do it. Her scent is one of the last remaining pieces of her that remains in my life.

The other piece of her, the big piece that remains, is Garret. He’s similar to her in so many ways. He looks exactly like me, but he acts just like Rachel. He has her personality. He’s loving and caring. He’s friendly and outgoing. He always tries to be optimistic. And he isn’t afraid to show emotion. You know when he’s happy or sad. He doesn’t try to hide it.

Garret is so much like Rachel that sometimes it hurts to even be around him. It’s like I’m seeing her through him. That should be a good thing. I should be comforted by the fact that part of her lives on through Garret. But instead of feeling that way, I feel anger toward him for reminding me of her. I shouldn’t feel that way, but I do.

The next day, I go to the office and lose myself in my work. It’s one of my coping mechanisms. I make sure every moment of my day is filled with constant activity so I don’t have a chance to think about her. I work from the second I arrive to the second I leave. I take no breaks, not even for lunch.

“Pearce, do you have those reports?” My father is standing at my office door.

“Yes.” I get up and bring him the folder.

“There’s a conference call at five today. I need you to be there.”

“Yes, fine,” I say, returning to my desk. He walks away.

Since Rachel died, I haven’t been fighting with my father. Then again, there’s no reason to. We always fought about work or Rachel, but now Rachel is gone and I work at such a feverish pace that I get everything done on time and on schedule. My father has nothing to complain about.

I’m sure he’ll be back to yelling at me in a month or so. I think the only reason he’s kept quiet is because my mother forced him to. She knows how upset I am that Rachel is gone, so she won’t allow my father to make my life even worse. Not yet. Not while I’m still such a mess.

My father hasn’t even mentioned Rachel since she died, which is how he acts when anyone dies. He just continues on as if the person never existed. He acts the same way about Jack. The other members do too. After Jack died, everyone just went on as if nothing had happened.

I never found out who killed Jack. The story we were told is that one of his freelancers did it, but I’m not sure I believe that. A freelancer would only know Jack by his number, not his name, so someone had to have told the freelancer that information, but if that’s the case, then who did it, and why? Why would someone want to kill Jack? It can’t be because he was secretly calling me on that phone. Nobody even mentioned that to me or questioned me about it so I’m not sure if anyone actually knew that Jack and I had been talking. Maybe Jack just misplaced his phone and mistakenly thought someone took it.

I don’t think I’ll ever know what really happened to Jack. And I don’t have time to worry about it. I have too many other things on my mind.

The work day goes by quickly and we have our call at five. It ends a half hour later and I head home. It’s Friday night and I’m exhausted from the week. I usually leave at six, so it’s not that my days are overly long, but I work so hard while I’m there that I’m exhausted when I get home. That could also be caused by the fact that I get almost no sleep at night.