To Protect and Hide

I knew I was being followed. My years as a contract assassin had honed my awareness. I continued to walk normally. Panic had been extinguished in me years ago.

 I walked into the Hilton parking entrance and continued until I was alone in the darkness. Then I crouched, and waited. Moments later I heard the hesitant footsteps. In the dim light I could see it was a young girl. What could she possibly want from me? As she began to pass my location, I stood.

“Can I help you?”

She froze mid-stride and turned frightened eyes in my direction. I could see she wanted to run…to be anywhere but here. But she didn’t. Her voice trembled.

“I… need your help.”

“My help. I don’t know you, do I? What help do you need from me? Do you even know who I am?”

“No, sir. I mean Leslie told me about you. She’s my friend, and she said you are Marcus. She doesn’t know your last name. She said you stopped a man who stalked her last year. You were nice to her and told her he wouldn’t bother her anymore.”

I cursed myself for being recognized so easily. Not very professional. . I remembered Leslie and the pedophile stalking her. He had her cornered in an alley that I passed. I wasn’t even paid for that job. I just happened to witness it.

“How old are you?”

“Twelve.”

“How did you find me?”

“Leslie and I saw you drinking coffee in that cafe. She said she’d seen you there sometimes— that you must live nearby. We waited a few days until you showed up. She pointed you out.”

And that’s why I didn’t take jobs near where I stay. Dammit.

I was satisfied that I was in no immediate danger, but I would have to move now. I couldn’t afford any more mistakes in my line of work.

“Okay. How can I help?”

She held out her hand toward me, but was too afraid to approach, so I walked closer and asked, “What’s that?”

“It’s $12.50. It’s all I have, but I can pay you more in a few weeks.”

“Pay me to do what, exactly?

“To stop my uncle from hurting my mother. He’s angry that he has to pay us from dad’s account since he was killed a few years ago. Uncle Ted is in charge of the money his parents left him and Uncle Ted.

The words struck a chord within me. The weight of her pain was palpable, a heavy cloak that draped over the innocence of her childhood. I knew that pain. My only sister was killed by her abusive husband just five years ago. I had identified the broken and bruised body of a girl I had playfully tormented in our teens. She had been beautiful, and it was hard seeing her on that cold metal tray. Anyone who could do what had been done to her was inhuman. I let my animalistic behavior take control. He’s no longer around to do any more harm.
I had waited too long to answer the girl.

“Please Mr. Marcus. He hurts my mom. He’s going to stop paying her because he says she’s not really entitled to the estate money. I only want my mother to be safe.”

My name isn’t Marcus. I’ve used it from time to time, along with many others over the years. But she had touched a raw nerve about a man willing to abuse someone weaker than himself.

“Okay,” I said kneeling to her level. “I’ll help you. But I want you to promise me something.”

Her eyes widened, a flicker of hope amidst the fear.

“Promise me that you’ll stay strong, and that you have never seen me. You never came here. Our talk never happened no matter what you hear in the future.”

She nodded, tears spilling down her cheeks as she handed me the money, not as payment, but as a desperate plea for help. With her small, shaky voice, she gave me the address and the name of her uncle.

“You and your mom will get through this together. Go,” I pointed, and she ran from the parking garage. I smiled as she ran away. She was a brave young woman.

It took a little internet research and a little snooping, but I found him. As I watched him move about, I could see he was an arrogant  prick. He treated the waitress at the coffee shop as if she were incompetent. Everyone waiting in line frowned at the treatment.

He managed a men’s clothing store. I visited and bought a shirt from a nice young lady.When the girl’s uncle entered,  the employees reach said ‘good morning’ as he passed, but he ignored them all. Then he complained that the shirt display was not organized and demanded that my sales lady clean it up immediately. He scolded another employee  for a wrinkled jacket he wore. I remembered guys like him in the military.  We had a way to correcting their treatment of the other recruits. We called it Midnight Mayhem where were wrapped his sheets around him while he slept and beat him. The guy never knew who had done it, and most changed after that.

This guy needs a little behavioral reconditioning. But how far should it go?” Would he stop at a little threat? A beating? Does he deserve to die? I certainly am a specialist at the latter.

That night, I watched as he entered the girl’s house, a looming figure cloaked in malice. I heard the slaps and crying, but now was not the time. This had to be done where no one could hear and witness. But I promised myself this would be his last visit to the house.

 I followed him when he left a few minutes later. In the dark I caught up to him as he approached the alley next to the cafe where the two girls had spotted me. It was territory I knew and could assure our conversation would not be overheard. I pushed him deep into the darkness as he struggled in confusion. Memories of my sister’s death fueled my determination.

Finally we were at the garbage bins, and I shoved him roughly into the rankest one.

“Do you enjoy belittling everyone? Do you feel macho when you beat helpless women?” I had my forearm against his throat, and had to lessen the pressure for him to speak.

“What? Who are you? What are you talking about?”

“I was outside and heard the slaps and threats just a minute ago. I watched you belittle the waitress yesterday and saw how you treat your employees. What kind of man does that?”

“It’s you making threats. The police will hear about this.”

I laughed aloud.

“The police will never hear about this. If you and I can’t come to an agreement, you won’t leave this alley alive. Do you get that?” I pushed harder against his throat.

He began to sob and snot dropped from his nose.

“ I don’t deserve this. If you hurt me, my uncle…”

I pushed harder and cut off his words.

“There is only one way to save yourself, and that’s if we come to an understanding. You’re going to change. No more threats and belittling anyone. And most of all no more beating women.” I thumped my finger against his forehead to punctuate my seriousness.

“I won’t give in to your threats…”

I realized this guy would never understand the danger he was in. Twisting him around, I moved swiftly, wrapping the garrote around his neck with practiced precision. “You had a chance to live, but you’re too arrogant to realize the intensity of my resolve.”

  As he struggled, I could feel the weight of my actions bearing down on me, but I pushed through the flood of memories that threatened to overwhelm. The thought of the little girl’s mother ending up like my sister was enough to make me do what had to be done.

****

As I sat in the cafe the next morning, the smell of burnt coffee mingling with my guilt, and the police barricades blocking the alley outside, I grimaced at the stark reminder of the chaos I had unleashed. I could hear snippets of conversation about Nathan Thorn, his name sending a chill down my spine. I had thought I was freeing the little girl and her mother, but now I was tangled in a web far more dangerous than I had anticipated. Once he discovered the beatings of the girl’s mother, she could become his primary lead.

What have I done? The weight of my actions pressed heavily on my chest. I had become a protector only to find myself a hunted man. The thought of the girl, now potentially in danger because of my choices, ignited a fierce determination within me.

I needed to hide, to make a plan. I could feel the noose tightening around us. This was more than just survival; it was about ensuring the safety of those I had sought to protect.

I slipped out of the cafe, my heart pounding as I navigated the back streets, avoiding the main thoroughfare where the police were gathering. My mind raced with possibilities. I needed information—who could I trust?

As I turned a corner, an old contact came to mind. Sam was a low-level informant with ties to the underbelly of the city. He might have insight into Thorn's operations. I found a payphone and dialed his number, praying he would answer.

"Sam? It’s me," I said, keeping my voice low. "I need to know about Nathan Thorn and his crew. I’ve made a mistake, and it could cost lives."

After a pause, Sam’s voice came through, laced with concern. "You’re in deep, aren’t you? Thorn doesn’t take kindly to anyone messing with his family. You need to lay low."

"I can’t do that. There’s a girl—a little girl—who’s been hurt, and I thought I was helping. Now she’s in danger. Can you help me?"

"Meet me at the old diner on Fifth. I’ll see what I can dig up, but you need to be careful. You’re not just dealing with a thug; Thorn's got connections everywhere."

I hung up, adrenaline coursing through my veins. The diner was a few blocks away. As I approached, I scanned the area for any signs of trouble.

Inside, the place was nearly empty, the fluorescent lights buzzing overhead. Sam was already seated in a booth, his face shadowed by a worn cap. He motioned for me to sit, his expression serious.

"First things first," he began, glancing around. "Thorn’s not just a mob boss; he’s a predator. He’ll come after anyone he thinks is a threat."

I nodded, fear creeping in. "What do I do?"

"Yo

"But how? I can’t just walk in and take her."

Sam leaned in, his voice low. "You’ll have to act fast. But you need to make a clean getaway. Get her mother involved, make it seem like they’re just leaving for a vacation."

The plan was risky, but I had little choice. I nodded, determination steeling my resolve.

After a quick exchange of information, I left the diner with a new sense of purpose. I couldn’t let my earlier actions spiral out of control. I needed to be the protector I’d set out to be.

I approached the girl’s home cautiously, every instinct on high alert. I knocked softly, and when her mother answered, I quickly explained the situation, omitting my involvement in the uncle's death.

“We need to leave,” I urged. “It’s not safe here. Thorn will come after you and your daughter.”

After a moment of hesitation, her eyes filled with understanding and fear. “What do we do?”

I laid out the plan, promising her it was only temporary. With her trust, we piled into my car, the girl in the backseat clutching a picture of her father.

As I drove away, I glanced in the rearview mirror. The city lights blurred into a streak of colors, and I felt a mix of relief and dread. I had saved them for now, but I was still in the crosshairs, a target in a game I could barely comprehend.

The road ahead twisted and turned, and as we drove into the night, I knew I had to prepare for the fight that lay ahead. Nathan Thorn would not let this go easily, and I was now a part of a world where violence ruled and survival was the only currency.

But I wouldn’t back down. I had become a protector, and I would do whatever it took to keep the innocent safe, even if it meant facing the darkness I had once embraced. The battle was just beginning, and I was ready to fight.