“Carly, we have a job for you.” Mike whispered over the phone. “Ugh, what is it now?” I sigh. “I’ll send you a file.” “Can I bring the crew?” “Honestly, I don’t think it’s necessary!” “Wyatt’s my husband, and Naomi’s my best friend. They’re coming along or you’ll have to find someone else.” “Fine, if you insist.” “I do.” I hang up on him and call Naomi. “We got a job!” “I’ll get paid, right?” “Course you are, just don’t tell Wy.” “Aight, I’m on my way.” I walk to my bedroom to wake up Wyatt. “Get up! Get up! Get up!” I yell jumping on top the bed. “Whatyohwant!” He groans. “We have a job and you and your sister are coming!” “Who?” “I dunno?” “You have to be the nicest assassin in the entire world.” “Yeah I know”

……………………….

We pull into the address Mike gave me and pop open the trunk, where a I keep my collections of guns. I select my favorite ,and toss Wyatt, and Naomi one too. She picks the lock and Wyatt goes in first. “Lives alone, no family, he leads a gang, they torture, and sometimes kill innocents for money.” “Wow that makes the job easier.” I whisper. “Who’s there?” The man hollers. We trace the noise to a empty room in the back. Empty all but a man, his mid thirty’s maybe, jet black hair, brown eyes, olive skin, and a foul smile. “I had a feeling they’d send someone eventually! I just thought they’d send an adult, how old are you? Sixteen?” “Twenty-four, thank you very much.” “You honestly do not seem like a professional assassin.” The man pulls a gun off his belt. On instinct I swing my leg up and kick it out of his hands, and Naomi retrieves it. “That’s what makes me so good at it.” I spit. “You don’t have the guts to do it!” He spat back. “That’s what the last, uhhhh..” “Sixty-eight.” Wyatt answered. “Yeah what the last sixty-eight said. People always seem to underestimate me.” “And they tend to regret it!” Naomi adds. “Prove it.” “Never seen someone so eager, you lil weirdo! As you wish.” BANG. BANG. BANG. I shoot him twice to the head, once in the heart. And even though he’s a bad person, just like the others, I always feel a pang of guilt after I complete a job. Wyatt and Naomi know this, and I think they feel it too, because we all take a sharp breath and turn away. Naomi hands me the phone, “It’s Mike. ” “WHATS TAKING YOU SO LONG! DID YOU GET IT DONE!” He screams through the phone. “Yeah it’s done, just send me the money. Cash please.” I hang up and we head back out to the car. It’s only when we get home that I realize earlier, it wasn’t guilt. Not this time. This time, it was a sense of accomplishment. I enjoyed it.