Part 2.2

Part 2.2

If that day had started with just Nero and Blair, I would have been golden.

I kind of hoped that Kennedy would ask me to leave.

It wasn’t ideal, but you sometimes have to take the good with the bad.

Even though bad was an understatement.

Kennedy was a busy girl, even if she was young.

She attended a lot of meetings her dad couldn’t be bothered to show up for.

Milton was stuck next to Sandra, and I wasn’t a fan of that.

To keep my distance, I focused on ‘threats’.

Any punk that came close was subject to searches and pat-downs.

Just like a traumatised bodyguard would.

If you had a bird’s-eye view, I was on the opposite side of Kennedy the entire time.

I had to do that for weeks.

It took the TAF three fucking weeks to send me a new probation schedule.

I was happy.

I could finally avoid Sandra officially, but Kennedy had other plans.

Why couldn’t she have just let me be?

I still kept tabs on the house, just so that I would have a warning if my cover was compromised.

Kennedy told Sandra about the TAF situation.

How, in the morning, my time would be divided between them and the TAF.

I never understood women, and maybe after I die, you can explain them to me.

SANDRA: Why are you telling me this?

KENNEDY: I just thought you should know.

[Sandra laughed.]

SANDRA: Good. I’m glad we are going back to normal.

[Kennedy scoffed.]

KENNEDY: You call that normal? You were so distracted that any idiot could have killed me.

[I assume the footsteps were Sandra pacing.]

KENNEDY: Do you want to leave what happened unresolved?

There was silence for about a minute before Sandra left and closed the door.

At first that hadn’t bothered me, because Sandra had a few hours of her shift left, and I was on patrol.

Even though I was on patrol, I made sure to make a nuisance of myself.

Smythe was on a tirade about something small.

Just as he was about to hit one of the maids, Milton was behind him and caught his wrist.

MILTON: What is going on here?

[Smythe tore his arm from my hand.]

SMYTHE: How dare you? I will not be touched by a commoner!

[He yelled so hard his monocle fell off.]

MILTON: Mr Smythe. I don’t think Miss Kennedy would take kindly to how you treat the staff.

SMYTHE: You and the girl have no authority here. Captain St. Patrick has entrusted me with his home.

[He took a step toward me. I almost laughed at how intimidating he thought he was.]

MILTON: Mr Smythe. If you leave the girl be, we can leave it at that. If not, then I will have to defend her.

[The butler started laughing.]

SMYTHE: How would you defend her? You have no power in this house!

[In an instant, I pulled out my gun and pointed it at the ground. I smiled as he flinched.]

MILTON: That flinch told me everything I needed to know.

[I nodded to the side. The maid understood my signal and left the scene.]

MILTON: When the boss is away, you are the king of this castle. Why isn’t that enough?

The old man was speechless.

As I walked away, I made sure that the entire confrontation was caught on the security cameras.

I was smiling all the way to my room.

The smile evaporated when I saw a familiar mercenary outside my room.

Sandra was leaning against the wall next to my door.

She had a lit cigarette in her mouth and her arms crossed.

I took a deep breath and walked up to my door.

SANDRA: Aren’t you going to invite me in?

[You heard right. I gulped.]

MILTON: Do you promise that you won’t slice me up?

SANDRA: Cross my heart.

[She crossed her heart while a blade protruded from her finger.]

MILTON: Would you like to come in?

SANDRA: Sure. Do you have anything to drink in here?

MILTON: I only have coffee and milk.

[She started laughing.]

MILTON: To what do I owe the pleasure?

[She sat down in the chair next to my bed.]

SANDRA: I heard about you moving up in the world. I thought we could have one last chat before you leave.

[I sat down on the bed.]

MILTON: It is only probation. I might not be permanent.

SANDRA: You avoiding me feels permanent. Would you care to explain that?

MILTON: What is there to explain? I fucked up. End of story.

[She rolled her eyes.]

SANDRA: I’m not angry about the money. Would you like to guess why I’m mad?

MILTON: Was it because I lied?

[She shook her head and leaned back. She took a deep drag and blew the smoke my way.]

SANDRA: Wrong. It was because you didn’t apologise for real.

[I had to think quickly. She wanted to reconcile, and I couldn’t have that.]

MILTON: I wanted to, and that distraction caused my focus to slip. Mr St. Patrick died because of that.

[She flinched so hard the cigarette fell from her mouth.]

MILTON: Miss Steele. I think it would be best if you left.

[I stood up and walked to the door.]

MILTON: I am really sorry for offending you, but there is nothing I can do about that now.

[She stood up and stopped right in front of me.]

SANDRA: Why didn’t you say you were sorry then? Are you a coward?

MILTON: Yes.

[She stared at me for a few seconds. Before she left, she looked back and winked.]

SANDRA: See you tomorrow, Mr Adams. Sweet dreams.

Fuck.

I wanted her to leave, and somehow I managed to get myself back into her good graces.

She was the first failure in the long list of people who should hate me.

I didn’t sleep at all that night.

Thoughts of her as my friend and partner invaded my mind.

All I could do was impress the bigwigs.

That way I could leave her behind.