The next morning, Elena woke up and was greeted by her cousin Marge, who had stayed by her side all through the night. When asked if she remembered anything about the accident, Elena ignored the question and asked Marge if she had seen any sign of Anton.
"He was here last night, but then he vanished", said Marge.
Elena looked at her worriedly and asked, "What do you mean he vanished?"
"I mean he left", Marge told her. "He told me to look into a couple named Salvador and Raquel Chigurh and then he left. Do those names mean anything to you?"
"No", Elena answered.
"You remember anything about the Ford Custom that hit you or what it looked like?" Marge questioned her.
Elena said she didn't remember anything about it. She didn't even mention that it was Anton who pulled her out of the wreck. It was in that moment that Marge suspected something bad was going on between them. Something had happened between the two that made them split apart. Though she was curious and determined to find out what it was, Marge knew it was best to make sure Elena was taken care of first. She decided to halt the questions for now and waited with her cousin for updates about her condition.
Dr. Hartman came in a while later and informed them that Elena was all right to go home in a few hours. Marge told Elena that her car had been towed in and taken into an impound lot by the police, so she offered to give her cousin a ride home in the prowler. Elena was silent as she was driven back to her house, and Marge Gunderson could tell from the sad look on her face that she was depressed. This was the second time her cousin had encountered a near-fatal experience with death and lived to tell the tale.
Once they arrived at the house, Marge opened the door for Elena and allowed her to enter first. Marge stepped inside after her and closed the door, while Elena went over and sat down on the couch. She kept her head down as she placed her left arm across her right arm, feeling the hard, protective covering of her cast.
"Are you sure you're gonna be all right, Elena?" Marge asked her.
Elena didn't answer her. She didn't even look at her.
Marge sighed to herself and said, "You know, Elena, you can come stay with me and Norm for a while. Your old bedroom's still the same as it was when you left and-"
Elena turned her head left and said in a monotone voice, "I appreciate your help, Marge, I really do, but right now I just want to be left alone."
Marge nodded her head and said, "All right. Do you want me to help you with anything before I go?"
"No", said Elena, quietly. "Just go home."
Marge stood there for a minute, staring at Elena. "All right."
With nothing else to say, Marge turned around and opened the door and went out.
Elena sat there in silence, thinking. She knew that Marge was only trying to help her, but the last thing Elena wanted was to be around other people. It was bad enough she had allowed a murderer to enter into her own home, unknowingly, but what was even worse for Elena was that she know felt completely helpless to do anything about it.
Elena stood up and walked over to the window and looked through the curtain of white lace and watched Marge get into the prowler. She started up the engine and backed up and turned and drove up the trail.
Once her cousin was gone, Elena was left all alone to take care of herself. She closed the curtain and turned around and walked over and went down the hall to the end of the house. She turned to the left and stood in front of her bedroom door, which was slightly open. She didn't remember leaving it like that. Elena wasn't sure if Anton was waiting for her inside the room or not, but if he was, she didn't care whether she lived or died at this point. Summoning up as much courage as she could, Elena slowly pushed the door open and found he was not there.
Elena looked at the bed and walked over to it and picked up the pillow. To her surprise, the Beretta 92 was still under it. Elena turned her head left and looked over toward the closet. She thought about going over there with the gun to inspect it, but then decided to skip the idea. Why even bother? She thought to herself
Elena set the pillow back down and walked around and sat down on the right side of the bed for a minute. She placed her left hand on the mattress and lifted her legs and lied herself down on the bed. She scooted herself over and rested her right arm across her stomach and lied her head on the pillow, breathing heavily. Elena turned her head left and closed her eyes, feeling fresh hot tears leaking down the side of her face. The pain in her ribs and right wrist intensified. She lied her left hand onto the pillow next to her face and cried softly, slowly drifting off to sleep and hoping her suffering would end permanently.
In the dead of night, Elena opened her eyes and found herself lying in the darkness of her bedroom. The pain subsided, but she now felt numb and cold. Elena felt a presence that somebody was in the room with her. She turned her head right and looked up. And then she saw him.
A tall man of thirty-something years was looking down upon her. He had an expressionless face. His eyes were a slightly darker shade of brown compared to the natural color of his hair, which was hanging to just below his ears and with the ends turning under. In order to accommodate for his ridiculous haircut, his choice of fashion consisted of a dark blue denim jacket, a long-sleeved, brown cotton shirt, black pants, and a pair of cowboy boots. The only thing missing was a silenced shotgun or a captive bolt pistol, though she did not know this.
"What are you doing here?" Elena asked him, sounding calm and unafraid.
"You know why I'm here", said Anton.
"Then why don't you get it over with?"
Anton looked at her and said nothing.
"Go on!" Elena dared him. "Kill me if it'll make you feel better."
"I'm not going to kill you", said Anton. "It wouldn't be fair."
Elena stared at him for a minute. Slowly, she raised herself up onto her left elbow and sat up straight, ignoring the dull ache that returned to the left side of her ribs. "What are you talking about?" She asked him.
"You saved my life once before", said Anton. "Now I am saving yours."
Elena looked at him strangely and asked him, "You think you're God or something?" Elena shook her head and told, him, "You're not God. You're a nihilist. A renouncer of everything good and pure in this world."
Anton remained silent and said nothing. He looked down and reached into the pocket of his jacket and pulled out a syringe and a vial of liquid tranquilizer.
Elena looked at the two items in his hand and asked him, "What's that?"
Ignoring her, Anton took the vial in one hand and used the needle to pierce through the seal, filling the glass barrel to the brim. He set the vial on the nightstand and tapped the syringe twice and gently pressed the plunger with his thumb until some of the liquid squirted out. He then looked at Elena.
"What are you doing?" Elena asked him, her voice a little bit stronger that time. A looked of worry painted her face.
"I'm doing this for your own good, Elena", said Anton.
"No!"
Elena turned herself over and attempted to reach behind her pillow and grab the gun, but instead found a strong hand grab her by the back of her hair. She screamed and felt him flip her over onto her back again. It all happened at once, as Anton mounted himself on top of Elena and locked his legs around her waist and struggled with her, fighting her as held her down with his left hand on her right shoulder. Elena reached up with her left hand and grabbed hold of his right wrist, stopping him from bringing the needle down. She fought him and tried to free herself from his tight hold on her, but Anton was much more bigger and stronger than she was. He pulled his wrist free from her grasp and stabbed the needle into her chest, making her gasp in pain. He pressed the plunger of the syringe and released the sedative into her veins and pulled the needle out. Elena looked at him with bewildered eyes and felt as though her heart was in her throat. Anton stared back at her with a bored and uninterested expression on his face, as though he were asking her if all that fuss was really necessary. Elena already started to feel dizzy and, in a last minute effort, tried to grab a handful of his hair, but only ended messing it up in the process. Anton didn't react to this, for her grip on him soon weakened. Elena lost consciousness and blacked out.
When Elena woke up the next morning, she opened her eyes and found a quilted blanket was thrown over her. She did not need to guess who had covered her with it. She sat up slowly and moaned in pain, as she placed a hand on her left side and felt a slight bruising. Looking down at herself, Elena was shocked to find that she was now clothed in her white nightgown. She had come home from the hospital after the car accident wearing nothing but a thin paper dress. Not only had this sociopathic hitman broken into her house, but he had also stripped her down while she was drugged and unconscious.
Elena turned her head right and saw three new items were lying on top of the nightstand. A glass of water, a plate of food, and a single white caplet. Elena couldn't remember the last time she had eaten anything. A few days maybe. She picked up the caplet and put it into her mouth. She then picked up the glass of water and took a small sip and set it back down. She reached over and set the plate on her lap and started eating. Since her right arm was temporarily disabled, Elena had to use her left hand to hold the fork. It wasn't as bad as she thought it would be. After she finished, Elena set the plate back on the nightstand and picked up the Bible, hoping the words of the Lord would give her some comfort.
Half an hour later, the door opened and Anton entered into her room. Elena paused her reading and looked at him. He wasn't wearing the denim jacket anymore. His pageboy haircut, thought still ridiculous the more she thought about it, looked as though he had recently groomed it. Not a single hair was out of place.
Elena focused her eyes back onto the Holy Scripture and ignored him. Anton took no offense to this and ignored her all the same, as he walked around to the right side of the bed and took her plate away and left. Their eyes never met each other.
Elena continued reading her Bible for another hour. She closed it and set it aside and threw the blanket off of her and placed her feet onto the floor. She stood up and walked around the bed and out the door and went to use the bathroom across the hall. After she finished and washed her hands, Elena walked out into the hall and looked to her left. She was curious as to where the hitman was and what he was doing. Slowly, Elena walked down the hall and out into the living room. He was not there. Her eyes looked toward the direction of the kitchen. She walked over and stood near the entrance, but he wasn't there either. The rustling of clothing soon gave her an answer. Towards the left corner of the kitchen was a small laundry room. Elena went over and stood near the doorway and saw Anton was folding a few clothes and placing them into two piles on top of the washer. He noticed her and shot his eyes at Elena and stopped what he was doing, but said nothing. Odd as it was to see a man like him doing housework, it made Elena feel better to know that at least the house was being taken care of. Knowing that he was doing no harm to nothing, Elena turned around and walked away from him and went back to her room.
Once she got back to her bedroom, Elena lied down on her bed and turned over on her right side and rested her right hand onto her pillow and stared at the wall for a while, listening to her own quiet breathing. The pale blue coloring gave her a feeling of serenity, and she seemed to be at peace with herself for once, though she still questioned on whether to submit to this crazy man and listen to whatever he told her or not. Elena knew the right thing to do in her head, but her heart was telling her something completely different. Despite the fact that she and Anton had fought and argued on several occasions, Elena still agreed with him on one thing. "You've harbored feeling for me ever since the day we met", he said to her once. No matter how much she tried to deny it, Elena knew that she could not brush the thought from mind. She sighed through her nose and lied herself on her back and placed her right arm to her side and closed her eyes, hoping to sleep it off.
A few hours later, Elena awoke to find that the daylight had dimmed outside. She had been asleep about four hours. She sat up in bed and looked over at her nightstand. A bowl of soup had been brought in to her. Elena wondered exactly how long this charade was going to go on for. She ate very little and set the bowl and spoon down on the nightstand and reached over for her Bible and placed it on her lap and opened it and flipped through the pages until she found the Book of Revelation, reading about a man named Death who was followed by Hell as he rode himself upon a pale horse.
It was 9:36 p.m. when Elena braved herself to exist out of her room again. She walked down the hall and into the living room. It was dark and there were no lights on. The front door was slightly open. Elena slowly approached it and placed her hand on the doorknob and opened the door all the way. She looked outside and saw Anton was sitting on the bench on the front porch, his hands resting on his knees. He was wearing his denim jacket again, but he wasn't wearing his boots. A pair of white socks were on his feet.
Elena stared at him a minute. She stepped outside and felt a chill when her bare feet touched the wooden surface. She closed the door behind her and held her arms across her chest, studying him.
"How long are we going to continue not talking to each other?" Elena asked him. "A month? A year?...Forever?"
"I'm not choosing not to talk to you, Elena", said Anton. His deep voice was quiet and somewhat hoarse. He sounded sad, even if he didn't show it. "I just know you don't want to look at me."
Elena slowly shook her head and told him, "I don't even know who you are anymore."
"I'm not the man you think I am. Not anymore. I give you my word, Elena."
"Your word doesn't mean anything to me."
"No", said Anton. "But it does to me."
"But why?" Elena questioned him. "Why do you kill people, Anton?" It hurt her to say those words to him.
Anton shook his head and told her, "You wouldn't understand."
"No, you're right", said Elena. "I don't understand. So tell me."
"It was only a job, Elena", said Anton. "I found no comfort in killing those people, but you see, I had no choice."
"You did have a choice", Elena told him, her voice sounded as though she were about to cry. "This is not something you had to choose for yourself. This is not something I'd ever want anyone to choose for anything."
Anton sat there motionless and glared at her for a minute and whispered softly, "I think you should go back inside, Elena."
Elena looked at him with watery eyes. She couldn't believe how a man like him could be so heartless and yet so discouraging at the same time.
Anton acknowledged her about what she was thinking, but said nothing. He knew that Elena was wondering what exactly it was that brought him to this, to meeting her. He knew she wondered about the cause of where he came up with these blood-shedding ideals, but did not feel the need to explain himself to her on what he had went through.
Knowing that she wasn't going to get anywhere with this man, Elena turned around and placed her hand on the doorknob.
"You want to know why I'm all fucked up?" Anton asked her. His deep voice sounding eerily calm. "I'll tell you why."
Elena turned around slowly and looked at him, a tear falling from each of her water-filled, turquoise eyes.
"My parents were killed when I was five years old", Anton said to her. "My father woke me up in the middle of the night and hid me inside my bedroom closet. He told me to stay hidden until it was safe. At the time, I didn't understand what was happening. I don't think any child would in that situation. But then I heard a boy screaming and the firing of the gunshots. I should have known something terrible had happened. That something was wrong. I thought the killer would come for me next, but instead, he left. After he had gone, I came out of my bedroom and found both my parents were dead. They had each taken a bullet to the head and to the chest. A while later, an ambulance came and took their bodies away. I never even got a chance to say goodbye. The police came for me and wrapped me in a shock blanket and took me away to the station. Once I got there, the sheriff comforted me and told me he was sorry. I don't remember his name, but his eyes told me everything I needed to know. After that, I was placed into a orphanage and stayed there until I turned sixteen."
Elena was silent for a minute. Finally, as more tears rolled down her cheeks, she whispered, "Anton, I'm so sorry."
"I do not need your sympathy", said Anton, cold-heartedly. He turned his head right and said to Elena, "If I ever find the man who did this to them, I will not resist in killing him. The killer showed them no mercy. I will not hesitate to do the same."
"Anton, killing someone won't bring your parents back", Elena told him. "I'm sorry they died, but did you ever think what they would say if they knew you killed people? Let's say you did find the person responsible for the death of your parents. What do you think they would say if they knew what you did?"
"That is not for you to worry about", said Anton. "I have already paid for one of my sins. The rest will be taken care of sooner or later. When my demons catch up to me, I will face them alone."
Elena shook her head and said, "Anton, please...You don't have to-"
"Don't say it", Anton warned her, his voice firm, but gentle.
"Say what?" Elena asked him.
"That I don't have to do this", Anton responded. "You know how many times I've heard people say that? You don't know how many people I've killed, Elena. And I don't want you to be next."
Elena shook her head again and said, "But that doesn't matter to you anymore, does it? Your arm's healed up and that's all you ever cared about, right?"
Anton stared at her for a minute and said, "You're still in love with me, aren't you?"
As fresh tears rolled down her eyes and blinded her vision, Elena looked at him with sadness and said nothing, her lips trembling.
The bench creaked as he rose up and swung a little bit, as Anton slowly approached Elena and looked at her, his expression apathetic.
Elena lowered her head and put her left hand to her face, lowering her right arm to her side. She shook violently and let a quiet sob escape from her lips.
Anton carefully placed his hands on her upper arms and said, "I already told you. I'm not the man you think I am. Not anymore. I gave that up a long time ago. Yes, I could go back to being a hitman, but what profit or benefit would there be in it for me?"
Elena sniffled in reply and answered him in a soft, broken voice, "...Nothing..."
Anton tilted his head slightly to the right and observed Elena in her vulnerable state of being for a moment and placed a hand under her chin and slowly forced her to look up at him. The whites of her eyes were slowly turning red. He put a hand to her face and wiped away the tears on her cheek with the pad of his thumb.
"Would you love me if I wasn't a killer?" Anton asked her.
Elena shook her head and said, "I don't know, Anton."
"I don't know is not an answer", Anton told her. "Would you love me if I was no longer a contract killer?"
Elena slowly nodded her head and answered, "I would, yes...But I still don't understand why you did it...I mean I do, but..." Her lips tightened for a minute, afraid of what the outcome of this conversation would bring them to. Elena found her voice again and asked him in a scared tone, "But what does this say about me?"
"Nothing", Anton assured her. "You're just an innocent bystander in all of this. If anyone asks, you don't know anything about me. Do you understand?"
Elena lowered her head again and hugged her arms around Anton as tight as she could while still favoring her broken wrist, burying her nose into his chest and trying to muffle her cries. Anton was confused and taken aback by this, but slowly wrapped his arms around Elena and ran his fingers through her long, brown hair, comforting her in the only way he knew how. Attempting to calm herself down, Elena took a slowly, but shaky breath and exhaled deeply and breathed in his scent: freshly-laundered denim, the bittersweet smell of coffee grounds, a burning sensation of nickel and silver from the coins in his pocket, and the familiar sweet and spicy aroma of hickory. He smelled like Anton, the strange and mysterious man she had picked up in Texas, though Elena began to wonder if he was from someplace else.
"I love you, Elena", said Anton.
Not expecting to hear those words come straight from his own lips, Elena ceased her crying and slowly looked up at him.
Anton released Elena and looked at her, though his expression remained stoic. Elena did not know if what he said to her was true or not, though she wanted more than anything to believe him. Anton was finally starting to come around and open himself up to her, though Elena knew that she shouldn't try to push her luck with him.
"Let's get you back inside", said Anton. "You'll catch your death out here."
Elena said nothing, but nodded her head in agreement. She stepped aside and allowed for him to open the door. Anton looked at Elena and motioned his head for her to go in first. Once she stepped through the door and into the house, Anton stepped in right after her and closed the door behind him.
Suddenly, Elena let out a sharp gasp of pain and felt her knees buckle beneath her. She would have fallen had she not felt a strong arm catch her around her waist. "It's okay. You're all right", she heard a voice speak to her. She knew whose voice it was, but was starting to slip into unconsciousness. She closed her eyes and heard his voice speak to her again, "...You're all right, Elena...I've got you."