The Hitman and His Consort

XXXIII - Return

First Person P.O.V: ARTHUR DE LAVINGE

That was a good one.

Ohh~ If I could do it again I would—How dare that i***t say things like that. Has he no f*cking idea how this constant stress of having my close friends and loved one's being in situations inches from death stressed me out?

I wouldn’t blame him for not having a visual of me sobbing my f*cking eyes out when I saw them bring him in, unconscious, pale, and bleeding out of his gut. He didn’t see me when Madeline told me in vivid detail how Valentin carried him through the waters in that state. He didn’t see everyone having crestfallen expressions like Diana's. She was good at the whole doctor thing. Both she and Rodrigo were sweating their bodily fluids out.

Or maybe that was an exaggerated reminiscence of the actual thing, but how dare this man say that sh*t right into our faces?

A knock sounded on the bathroom door. It’s probably Inka. She’s the only one who thinks my emotional investment in Valentin is not worth this and she’s right. Totally. What kind of sociopathic man deserves all this sympathy?

“Art, you okay in there?” she called out so I opened the door so she could see herself. She flinched a little when she looked at me and placed a hand on her mouth. It looked like she was stopping herself from laughing.

“Oh my God, you’re still an ugly crier,” she noted,

“Thanks, that really made me feel better,” I replied,

She scoffed as she leaned on the wall, shutting the door after her, “Why are you crying in the first place? You’re not the one that got slapped, good job, by the way,” she praised and I shook my head.

“I didn’t mean to do that,” I defended, it was emotion-driven, like a reflex, and I wasn’t planning to slap him across the face the moment he opened his mouth, it’s just if he goes around saying that kind of sh*t I’m not going to be able to help myself.

There are so many things happening at the same time, it made me think of delusional sh*t like maybe Valentin and I were actually meant to meet each other and our fates are tied from the start but it’s just the romanticist in me that's making up bullsh*t in my head.

The longer I spent time with him, the more I get drawn into this messed-up illusion that he’s a moderately good guy and that my attraction to him was normal. But it’s not. I have some serious problems; it doesn’t help that I have such a problematic record with troublesome men.

“Hey! tch, I see what you’re doing Arthur,” Inka suddenly scolded and I frowned at her,

“What do you mean, I’m just cryin—”

“That’s not what I mean, you child, you’re doing that self-blame phase again,” she corrected which did not clear up any confusion, she sighed before raising five fingers, “You’re going through the five stages of 'Arthur stupidity', first you meet an initially pleasant guy, seemingly normal but is greatly skilled and adept in what he does,” she began,

‘I mean okay… maybe it happened for the first few couples of times—’

“Second, you then develop one-sided feelings for the guy to the point that whatever they do you consider attractive, not realizing that you’re literally within the vicinity of an evil incarnate,” she followed, dropping one finger as she enumerated,

“Wait ‘cause how do you even—”

“Then, somehow you put yourself in a compromising situation because you let yourself act out of emotion,” she added, putting another finger down,

“Nah bro—”

“Cry because you’ve put yourself in said compromising position, and blame yourself because you can’t acknowledge that the man you adored is a sack of s**t,” she added yet again.

“N-No, this is different, okay!” I hissed to cut her off. I can’t believe she had all of that figured out—how many times had this happened before, to the point of a five-stage system already established? How many exes have I had until now?

‘This is giving me major nostalgia that it felt foreboding, what the hell.’

Inka crossed her arms and pursed her lips looking at me up and down before clicking her tongue, “You know what you’re right, this one is different,” she agreed with a subtle nod as she glances at the bathroom door, “You’re actually aware of how terrible he is as a person, and you know he’s a d**k through firsthand experience, but you’re still smitten with him because… he’s tolerable even in that state,” she finished.

Not the explanation I was hoping for and absolutely not the explanation I need, but it’s out in the open now. It felt wrong to finally connect the lines with what she said because she’s right, but I already know that. Having the words materialize like that, however, is troubling. Makes me aware that other people know my stupid petty feelings.

I did think I liked Valya, but that’s not all of it. I like him for what makes him a person, I guess? It’s hard to explain. I know he’s an apathetic bastard with no conscience, but he has his moments, and I don’t think he’s ever gone out of line.

'No, he's definitely gone out the line many times now... f*ck me,'

Although I don’t know where that line is drawn for people in our field. It’s hard to gauge how far is too far for people like us. I’m not a dependable reference, but I personally think he’s not gone overboard yet.

‘Yet’

Then again… if my exes were not ‘sociopaths’ yet able to do what they did, then wouldn’t that mean Valya could do much worse? It’s like a warning, knowing he can do so much worse than those before him…

‘It’s scary, it makes me anxious for no reason, it’s not like we’ll date or anything,’

I should just forget it. If it weren’t for the mission we wouldn’t have met, and even if our path converged despite our separate ties to this situation, I shouldn’t have put our relationship on a pedestal because no one, literally no one, genuinely thought that there's a possibility of a romantic relationship between him and me.

‘Hell, even Rodrigo doesn’t look like he holds out hope for anything of the sort,’

I sighed as I leaned against the bathroom wall, what it is with me and my fixation with personified red flags. Maybe I could ask Rodrigo about it, ask for a discount on a possible session while I’m at it. Honestly, that man doesn’t look like the type to need money.

“I think I’m done,” I announced and Inka scoffed,

“With the crying? Onto phase five then,” she replied,

I frowned. She didn’t finish counting the five stages earlier, “What’s stage five again?” I asked,

She straightened up, “Stage five is heartbreak, my dear child,” she said in a foreboding dark tone that made me roll my eyes.

“Then rest assured, I’m not going through stage five, I’m just having done with sided-emotions over here and I’m over falling for emotionally inept men,” I said, nodding to myself as I inhaled deeply and stared at her who in return gave me a half-lidded look of contempt.

“What?” I asked,

“Nothing… it’s just you kind of say that every time,” she replied.

“No, this time—this one is like super serious,” I reasoned and she only hummed as she opened the door, obviously not convinced by my new, strengthened resolve. When we exited the bathroom, the main area was silent. August and Rodrigo were talking about smart people's stuff and Madeline was hanging on August’s waist like a koala. Denis was on his phone, occasionally glancing at the door while Valya was...

Not present?

‘Must be back at the garage, resting… right?

Inka also frowned to not see his large frame and turned to Rodrigo, “Where’s Valya?” she asked as I made my way to the couch, pretty embarrassed to sit next to Denis seeing as I did slap his brother across the face with full force out of the blue, so it’s unavoidable I’ll feel somewhat awkward next to him.

“Oh, Arthur, good job earlier, I was gonna do it if you didn’t,” he said and I did flinch a little when he started speaking.

“Valentin went out to buy some cigarettes,” Rodrigo answered Inka and I felt a cold shiver down my spine that I couldn’t respond to Denis. I stood back up and turned to Rodrigo.

“I’m sorry what?” I asked again, waiting to hear a clarification for something I hope I wouldn’t,

“Well, you can’t stop that man once he set out to get what he wants, he even took my car, he’s an *sshole like that,” Denis answered for Rodrigo and I turned to Madeline, my hands felt rigid and I felt a mild spasm go throughout my leg and to my toes.

“Whoa, nelly… don’t look at me like that, whatever that man does ain’t my business,” Madeline said in his defense and I wanted to swing at him at that exact moment, what do they mean they couldn’t stop an injured man from going out to get cigarettes, he can’t just drive around town, the news had descriptions of him.

What was going through that man’s head that he thought getting cigs was enough reason to leave this place, under all this new tension to boot!

“I’m going after him,” I announced as I went to find my keys and jacket,

“The hell? No, you’re not,” Madeline interjected, standing straight and peeling himself away from August as he blocked my way,

“Yes, yes I am,” I replied, trying to shove him off lightly, but he just grabbed my arm. “Mads, let got,” I warned, looking at him eye to eye. He must’ve mirrored my expression because he looked determined yet desperate, it’s annoying to think we’re almost identical and this pitiful expression must be on my face too.

“They don’t know my face….if anything, I’m the only one allowed to get out of this place, no one else,” I argued and he huffed through his nose before stepping back,

“We have no idea where he is, probably on some cheap close-by convenience store, he’d be back soon… but if you insist,” Rodrigo announced and I nodded, walking past Madeline, who didn’t move an inch from where he is, and grabbed my stuff putting my jacket on as I walked outside. I switched out the big bike earlier with my usual dirt bike for less suspicion.

I drove around the area and checked the places Rodrigo suggested but I didn’t see traces of either Valya anywhere or Denis' car. Still, Rodrigo was right, he probably had enough common sense to not stray far or enter crowded areas. Speaking off, this place is pretty quiet at this time of night, almost nobody around, surely I’ll spot Valentin sooner or later, give him a piece of my mind again because he made sure to express that the slap earlier was not enough to get a point across.

He should be close by. I parked at a dead-end alley and tried to look around on foot, the place was lit by dimmed yellow streetlights and the brick-laid sidewalk was cracking apart; it smelt damp and thick with cold air, this area is unrecognizable if you compare it to its situations during the day. Still, he’ll be around here—

“Arthur?” a voice came along with a tug on my arm, making me turn on heels to face whoever that was.

“... oh… you,” I said as the familiar features of a past mistake stood a meter away from me, holding onto my arm like he was securing a catch, I jerked my hand off of his grip and offered a small smile, starting to feel a bitter taste in my tongue.

‘I knew something was gonna go wrong, but this early in the game?’

I always knew I’d see some of this walking disappointment around eventually, but today of all days? Now, of all times? Here, of all places?

This is a dark omen speaking directly from the source, and it had to be this prick. He did his signature dreamy smile with his impeccably pearly white teeth. He did tell me he used to wear braces. Julian Lione was an atypical clandestine narcissist.

Not on a very acute case, but you would know it's there. Imagine being a contract killer and having to stress how you look after a life-threatening encounter with your targets.

That’s what he made me feel, at first it was understandable, bearable actually, but his demands got increasingly got more absurd like he was dressing up a doll and even went as far as to suggest I give up on my work completely and focus on preparing to be a good wife and mother to the family I’ll have with him.

‘I was out in that relationship faster than the speed of light,’

And even after our breakup, he had this stupid set of demands as an attempt to hold on, like he could stall the avalanche of disappointments and resentment I felt for him during those times.

So seeing him right now in this state is kind of… loathsome.

“It’s me, Julian,” he said, pointing to his face,

‘Oh, trust me, I know

“Oh, y-yeah, Julian,” I noted with a nod, pressing my lips in a thin line ad I waited for him to say what he needs to say and leave,

He pursed his lips and gestured to the directions of a close-by fast food with his thumb, “I was just about to grab something to eat… would you like to..?” he trailed off, leaving me to connect the dots but whatever it is the answer is no,

I shook my head with a chuckle, “Oh, I just ate, and I’m actually heading out, see,” I replied with a polite smile and he nodded,

“Yeah, yeah, I see uhh—sorry to hold you up,” he answered with a tight smile, shrugging his shoulders as I started to take subtle steps away from him, “Next time, though, right?” he followed and I clicked my tongue,

“Aw… man, I can’t say, I’ve been swamped lately, so I really doubt we’ll be having time, but when I do, we could, I mean, if I have time, right?” I replied, shoving my hands in my pockets as I raised my shoulders, now talking actual steps back.

Makes me wonder what sort of impression I left on him to make him think it’s okay to ask me out for a casual dinner, and what kind of person he thought I was to be worth all this trouble because I doubt I did anything exceptional while we were together to have him spend even a minute of his time to greet me or something.

He’s probably just curious since it’s been long. I started walking away from him after that. Like an i***t.

“Arthur… actually, I think you need to indulge me this once,” he replied, and my skin crawled as a chill ran down my spine to hear his voice close to me when I already walked away and when I turned to face him the second time, the stench of chloroform and the smooth texture of cloth pressed hard against my nose and mouth disoriented me to the point of nausea.

One of his arms clutched over my neck in a choke and I did manage to get in a few jabs into him, but...

‘Man, that chloroform really did its job…’

“Wha… Julian..?” I couldn’t form my sentences and I’m pretty sure I’ll lose consciousness soon,

“Shh… it’s okay, I got you,” I still managed to hear him whisper like a f*cking creep next to my ear, and then I was out, my final thoughts being:

‘F*ck’