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PROMPT: FIREWORKS

TRIGGER WARNING: MURDER

Flicking my wrist towards my face, I watched the second hand tick around the yellowing clock face. Not long now.

Everything had been planned down to the second. It had to be. There could be no mistakes. I had one chance to get the job done. My client was paying good money for this. And with good fucking reason. It was dangerous. Alice hadn't wanted me to take it. Had warned me against it. If things went wrong, I had no fallback or escape plan. The authorities would make sure I burned in hell for what I was about to do.

But I was okay with that. I was the best in the business. And this was definitely going to be my last job. Once I was done and dusted, I wouldn't be coming back. I quite literally had plans to ride off into the sunset.

Peering out the window, I watched as, across the road, two men drunkenly stumbled about, laughing and smiling as their hands caressed and fondled each other's bodies. They were completely oblivious to me. Most people were. They didn't consider their surroundings. They only saw what was right in front of their face. You had to look deeper than that, though. The foul things people did weren't at eye level. Everyone thought you could look at someone and tell if they were a good person - you could spot it.

Ha. How wrong they were. If people only knew how many murderers, abusers, and rapists walked the streets every day, they would be horrified.

I checked my watch again, straightening myself up. It was time. I opened the door to the guest room and stepped out. It was dark, but that was fine - I'd acquainted myself with the apartment earlier. It was surprisingly easy to get inside. I'd donned a cap and a wig and had grabbed an empty box. Delivery drivers were so common nowadays that someone had opened the door, and I'd slipped in behind them. Picking the lock had also been ridiculously effortless. It was almost disappointing. I was expecting some form of security, but it turned out that America's Sweetheart lived in a pretty crappy part of the city. She could afford to move. She could afford to change her lifestyle - Daddy was more than happy to pay for that. Yet she chose not to. Probably because the guy she was shagging was her dirty little secret. One look at him and Daddy would have him thrown in prison without a second thought.

She thought she was invincible. That her association gave her protection. She was so fucking wrong. No one else might have been willing to take her on… yet I was.

Initially, I was done and finished. Wrapping up my other commitments, I looked forward to the day I was done with this life. I could taste it. It was around the corner.

Then Charlie Swan appeared. His status as an ex-copper meant he was able to find me through my associates. Normally, I didn't consider private work, but Charlie's story had proven too heartbreaking. Alice was pissed when she found out. She'd be even more pissed when she'd realise I was gone.

Charlie was a man hellbent on seeking revenge. And whilst he may have been more than happy to dish it out himself, his recent cancer diagnosis prevented him from doing that. So, I stepped into the breach.

Quietly walking through the apartment, I stood at the entrance to the master bedroom, contempt filling me when I saw her lying in the middle of the bed, sprawled out. She didn't have a care in the world. She didn't care that she left a trail of destruction in her wake because it got her what she wanted. Power. She craved it. Desired it. And she found the perfect way to get it.

But I was about to take that all away from her.

A single shot was all it took. Her boyfriend was certainly in for a shock when he came to find her in the morning. He was getting his dick wet somewhere else tonight.

I barely spared her a glance as I went to the bedroom window and opened it, sliding out and onto the fire escape. It only took me a few minutes to descend the steps and land on the concrete below. I blew out a breath and started walking. I was heading in completely the wrong direction, but I'd ditch the cap and wig and double back on myself. It was an extra precaution and one that I probably wouldn't need. It was pitch black, and I was wearing dark clothing. No one would be able to describe me accurately.

It was better to be safe than sorry, though. I was carrying precious cargo now.

That thought made me smile, and I placed a hand on my stomach. My bump wasn't overly visible. I could feel it, though.

That's why I had to leave the life - I had someone more important to think about now. I could no longer be selfish. I didn't want to be. I wanted my daughter to have the best life possible. She wouldn't get that here.

No. We were heading to a small farm in the West. It wasn't anything big or fancy, but it was going to be mine. Mine and hers. It wasn't a life I'd ever thought I'd get, but now it was certainly in reach.

Above my head, fireworks exploded, their bright colours lighting up the sky. Gently, I ran my fingers over my stomach. Not long now, little one.

"Happy 4th of July," I mumbled. I knew what I'd just done and how I'd marred the date. I'd picked it for a reason. Call it an odd sense of humour. But I wanted her death to be remembered. I wanted the date to stick in everyone's minds.

The 4th of July will forever be synonymous with the day the president's daughter was murdered.