17.
*Katelyn*
Every night, it had been harder to fall asleep. I suspected that it was because Joe wasn't there beside me, but I tried to tell myself that there could be other reasons, too. It could be that this mission was keeping me up at odd hours or that I just had a lot on my mind. After all, I'd had my memory restored and the things that I had remembered…
Rider had ruined my relationship with Joe. And I had loved Joe, I could remember that. But I was still just so confused… I had no idea what I was supposed to be feeling. I wasn't really all that used to making my own decisions. But I had made my own decisions with Joe before…
Sighing, I rolled out of bed and headed to the bathroom for a shower. The hot water relaxed me, as it always did, but it also made me flash back to moments with Joe. Those nights that we had spent in the security of each other's arms… The secretive looks and smiles in class… The whispered words… And those feelings that I remembered. Is it possible that I'd really felt all of that before?
I'd never felt that with Rider. With Rider, I always just felt normal, never really in love. But I had agreed to marry him… Why? Maybe because in the relationships I'd seen, people didn't marry for love. It was convenience.
I wrapped my hair in a towel as I pulled on my underwear and a sports bra. I pulled on black pants, next, and then a black, long-sleeved shirt. I looked at myself in the mirror, my fair-skinned, flawless face free of makeup. "Tonight's the night," I whispered, my blood flowing even faster at those words. I had slept all day – or, rather, fallen in and out of sleep all day – and I was ready for this. I was going to do my job and I was going to do it to the best of my ability.
I let my hair down from the towel and pulled it into a high ponytail. I had learned long ago that one of the most annoying things ever is to have your hair get in your face during a covert operation. I put in the appropriate number of bobby pins to keep it secure and then I slipped on my Nike Shox, even though it wasn't quite time to go.
My phone rang then – the BlackBerry that had been given to me for the mission – and I looked at it from across the room, confused. Had the CIA director changed his mind about killing Antonio? Did he want him brought to prison instead? I crossed the room and picked up the phone to answer it. "Hunter."
"Not for long," teased the voice on the other end.
"Rider?" I questioned. "How did you know how to get hold of me? Is something wrong with my parents or did something happen? Did-"
"Chill, Kay," he said with a laugh. "I just wanted to check up on you."
"Oh. How did you get the number?"
"I'm an assassin, too. It wasn't all that hard to hack the database. You don't sound happy," he noted.
What a genius. "Just want to get this over with."
"I agree," he said. "I want you home with me."
I glanced at the clock and noted the time. "I have to go, Rider."
"It's time?"
"Yeah."
"You have a plan, right?"
I rolled my eyes. "Yes, Rider. I have a plan; I'm not an idiot."
"Just making sure," he laughed. "Oh, and Kay? Be careful, okay?"
"I'm always careful, Rider."
"Okay, I love you."
My heartbeat sped up but I suppressed the thoughts from taking over. "I've got to go. It's time."
An hour later, I was outside Antonio's residence, busy hacking into the security system. Finally, the screen blinked and I saw that I was in. Stealthily, I climbed the wall and noticed that the cameras weren't moving like they normally did. They weren't doing a sweeping pattern; I had disabled them. I smiled to myself and moved across the lawn with its carefully manicured grass. I easily picked the lock on the back door and slipped inside unnoticed, doing a quick sweep of the immediate area for any threats.
When I found none, I found the closest set of stairs and began my ascent, my mind snapping into focus, my heart beating steadily. It was just like so many times before. Like shooting a free throw or riding a bike – muscle memory.
I reached the second floor landing and crept down the hall, towards where Antonio's bedroom was, according to the blueprints I'd studied. My footsteps made no noise against the real wood floors. I could smell the cleaner that the housekeeper had used earlier, and I wondered if it would be her that would find him dead in his room.
The door to his room was ajar and I could see him pacing the room, talking on a cell phone to someone about a deal they'd be making tomorrow. He didn't know that no such deal would be made. I waited patiently until the call was over, and then I watched as he tossed the phone onto a desk and sighed. Being a drug dealer is stressful?
I pushed open the door then, my gun already drawn and pointing at him. He looked shocked at first, and then just confused. "Who are you?" he asked in Italian, narrowing his heavy lidded eyes.
"That's none of your concern," I said coolly, making sure that the safety was off and I was ready to fire. I had it aimed at his forehead, right between the eyes. And I never missed my target.
"Who sent you?"
"You'll never know."
He seemed to realize that he wasn't going to be able to talk his way out of this. "I see how it is, then. Do it now."
I took a deep breath before my finger wrapped around the trigger. And for the first time ever, I closed my eyes as I fired.