Chapter 5 Remembrance of an Angel

"Please, Vincent, you don't have to do this! It was – interesting to meet you and all, but we can go our separate ways now!" She spoke fast as he, seemingly gentle but in reality unyielding, maneuvered her out of the club. Vincent nodded at the bouncer at the door. Sarah almost got the impression they knew each other.

He was smiling; but as they got back out on the street, his smile faded.

"That is not an option."

No, NO! This can't be happening! He really is going to – do this…

"Where do you live? You do live alone, right?"

"Y- yes, why?" Then it dawned on her: "Oh, NO, I'm NOT taking you to my place!"

"Yes, you are," he answered coolly.

"Why?" Everything inside of her screamed with fear. Because he's going to kill you there!

"Because I say so."

"Vincent, please, I don't want to do this, you're scaring me." Sarah pleaded with him. "Can I please just go? I'll disappear; no one will know you didn't… fulfill your contract…"

"Out of options, Sarah. You don't have a choice. Just roll with it." He took a firm but not painful grip on her arm. "You better come now, before people take notice and I'll have to start shooting."

Sarah whimpered but did as she was told. They walked in silence for a block or two. There wasn't a lot of traffic; even the cabs seemed to have shut down business for the night.

Sarah's mind was frantically working on a way out. Could she just run? No, he'd shoot her in the back… And where would she go? Most likely, he already knew where she lived, or could find out easily. And perhaps there would be others – later. Someone wanted her dead, had put a price on her head… She laughed bitterly to herself. Doesn't that sound melodramatic?

-

He'd have to kill her.

Of course he'd have to kill her. In his line of work, there simply was no room for failure. Letting her go wasn't an option. Vincent cursed. He fucking liked her! She reminded him of – him. Himself. She made him remember things, good things he'd forgotten about.

Vincent sucked some air through his teeth and sighed. Well, he'd liked Daniel Baker too. The talented jazz musician in LA that night, two years ago. He'd played the trumpet so beautifully it still gave Vincent chills, remembering it. Hadn't stopped him. Damn nearly did, though. That had been the first time he'd ever hesitated to kill. He never let anything personal interfere. It was easy enough when one didn't have personal connections.

No attachments.

There had been a woman once. Way back, long before he'd begun working in the private sector. Must have been fifteen years ago. She'd been special to him. It'd actually hurt when he'd learnt she was the enemy.

She'd never seen him coming.

After that he never got involved. It wasn't worth it.

Everything, everyone.

Would just die.

Betray you.

Or both.

He'd grant Sarah the same treatment, though. He could do that for old time's sake – spare her the fear at her last moments – not letting her know when it happened.

-

Suddenly, as they passed an alleyway, two dark figures stepped out in front of them. Sarah staggered backwards as she saw the guns in their hands. Vincent didn't flinch; he just looked casually up and down the street they were on. The two guys – not much more than kids, she realized as the streetlights illuminated their faces - waved with the guns for Vincent and Sarah to step into the dark alley.

"Gimme your wallets, assholes!" one of them barked in a harsh tone, trying to sound like a badass. They both looked like junkies; one had a constant twitch in his scrawny face, and the other really could've used a shower. Just two pathetic kids. In spite of the situation, Sarah felt sorry for them.

Vincent held out both his hands calmly, palms down, as if reassuringly saying OK, OK, and made a slow move towards the side of his body with his right hand. Sarah, naively believing he went for his wallet, never saw it coming. At an almost unreal speed, he disarmed the first guy and shot him in the chest. While he was still falling to the ground, looking surprised, Vincent shot the other guy with two in the chest and one in the head. All three hit before the man had even begun falling. Sarah yelped in shock. As Vincent walked calmly towards the first guy, who lay writhing in pain, she bolted.

Sarah ran, faster than she'd ever run before in her life, through the long, dark alley towards the light at the other end. Her lungs already burned from lack of oxygen. This was her only chance, or she would face the same destiny as those men. She couldn't even begin to guess why he hadn't killed her yet, but she knew it was going to happen. Him shooting… totally cold-blooded… The way he killed them… without hesitation…

Her legs almost gave out as she heard a noise behind her. Stumbling, she turned her head and saw Vincent coming at her with the gun. Running like a machine, his legs and arms pumping, he approached fast.

Too fast!

A whimper escaped her throat as she willed her feet to keep moving. All of a sudden, her legs were kicked out from underneath her and she tumbled to the ground, almost producing a full roll before her body hit the asphalt, face down.

Vincent was on her in an instant. Grabbing her shoulder, he turned her over on her back. He stood above her, one leg at each side of her torso and the gun pointed at her face once more.

"No, no, no, no," Sarah moaned, and tried to squirm out from underneath him. Vincent crouched and took a firm grip around the back of her neck with one of his strong hands, and the gun disappeared.

"Red light, Sarah," Vincent grated.

"You killed them, you killed them," she cried.

"They had guns pointed at us, remember?"

"They were just kids…" she sniffled.

"I shouldn't kill someone who is threatening me with a weapon because he's a kid? Is there a certain age above which I'd be allowed to kill people?" He was mocking her.

"No…"

"They were criminals, Sarah. Living a continuous criminal life, stealing, threatening… probably would've killed someone any day now. I did the world a favor."

"So that's the reason you killed them?" she hiccupped, trying desperately to grasp some twisted sense in what he was saying.

"No. That's the why. There's no reason. There are no good reasons to live or to die. We are granted the gift of life and look what we make of it. We spit in the face of our maker! They had it coming, Sarah. They all do."

Sarah was speechless. He actually believed he was doing the right thing! How could she fight him verbally? He was a psychopath.

And she was lost.

Numbly, she closed her eyes and let her body go limp in his hands. He could just go ahead and kill her. He was right! She had also spit in the face of her maker, making the choices she had, living an unworthy life. There was no way she could plead with him.

A single tear slipped past her eyelid and made its way down her cheek.

-

Vincent watched in fascination how he affected her. It had been a long time since he had spoken as much to anyone. He realized that his words had an impact on her, beyond just the death threat she was so obviously aware of. His curiosity began to overtake his recent decision just to get it over with. She seemed to have a past that darkened her soul, colored her every thought, every action, and how she interpreted everything he said to her.

The fuck why?

He was sure she had lived on Cheer Street in Hilariousville, just like his temporary foster parents had. The little white fences with the little white mail boxes… Christmases in green and white, and everybody always so fucking polite and kindhearted.

Haunted eyes.

She'd had those scared, tormented eyes.

And yet he remembered laughter.

She had seemed relaxed with him, and with Simon. At fifteen he had affectionately played rather simple and sweet games with her and her older brother, and it hadn't been just to be nice. She'd been just seven then, but way too old for her age. And he'd been way too mature for his age, but at the same time he'd lacked experience from innocent childhood games, the stuff a normal kid would've done when he was seven, or ten, or twelve…. He could see now, in a moment of clarity, how their friendship had made up for that; at least a small part of it. She had been a little angel, a little piece of heaven in the hell that had surrounded him.

At seventeen things had been different. He had, however, secretly enjoyed her crush on him. Found bliss in knowing he was special to someone, even if it had been just a little kid.

Her presence in his life had affected him then… and it still does!

He was suddenly aware of how she felt in his hands, soft and warm, and vulnerable. He let go so abruptly he dropped her to the ground, as if he had burnt his hands.

-

Sarah hit the ground with the back of her head. She only fell a couple of inches though; it didn't hurt. Surprised, she looked up and met Vincent's confused gaze. He was staring at her as if she just arrived from outer space. She almost wanted to have a mirror, to see what he was seeing. A heavy sensation spread from her stomach, and all throughout her body, as they kept studying each other. He looked so lost at that moment. She wanted to touch him, to hug him, to plead with him, to let him in, to shut him out.

All at once.

Taking control of her inner turmoil, she sat up, forcing Vincent to take a step back. As she stood, she took a step forward, facing him and laid a small hand on his arm.

"Come on. I'll take you home."

-