I met Joe in a roadside diner. I pointedly refused to go to a strip club to do business even if that was how Frank and Charlie had done theirs. Frank had grown up in a stripclub, his mother being a stripper, it had been comfortable for him. All of the heterosexualness was decidedly uncomfortable to me.
Joe was a good sport. He didn't care where we met as long as he didn't have to take more than three stairs up or down. Joe'd had practically every bone in his body broken so the less he had to use his knees, the better.

"Hey Joe." I greeted when he finally eased himself down into the booth across from me. I was pretty sure I heard several creaks and cracks.
"Hiya Kid. How are you doing?"

There was a crease between his eyebrows. Joe knew the answer to that, but he still asked. I wasn't okay and I would never be okay again. But He still asked and I shrugged and sipped my milkshake.

The waitress came over to give him a menu and smiled at us. She probably thought we were father and son and she wouldn't be entirely wrong. Joe had become a father figure to me after we'd met. He was probably a better dad than my biological one if I were honest. He wasn't dead for starters.

When the waitress came back we both ordered the special. Once our food had arrived and the waitress stopped hovering around to see if we needed anything, he slipped me a manilla envelope. On the eat next to me, I peeked inside. A stack of cash, a few keys, a cell phone, a passport and several photographs as well as names and addresses.

"I know Paris is off limits. If you don't want to go to Rome I can send Bella. She and Casey and the kids are on vacation in Italy but it shouldn't be a problem. She can be in and out in a day or two... I can send one of the others..."

Joe took a twenty-five percent cut from my jobs. He took forty from jobs he gave to Bella because he usually had to coordinate a lot more. Bella wasn't as careful. She would show up the day of the hit and rely on Joe to provide her with an exit. And for whatever reason, she never seemed to have to bury a body. I would scream sexism but I already know everyone will just remind me Joe hates women even if it's not true.

"No. It's fine," I replied, putting a french fry in my mouth and looking at the photograph before putting everything back into the envelope "I haven't been to Rome in a while... it was nice..."

Joe is looking at me with a frown and that wrinkle between his eyebrows, trying to decide if he's made a terrible mistake sending me back to Europe and I keep eating not letting anything through. When I finish my dinner, I start picking at french fries on his plate.

There were jobs I didn't do. Jobs where I'd have to crash a car or jobs where I'd have to garrotte someone. I refused to work with anyone after Frank, so Joe gave those jobs to Bella or Miko. It wasn't personal and I still worked steady. I was still too fucked up about Frank and it kept me from descending fully into the old life I'd had although I was coming close and closer. It wasn't attraction. It was self-loathing. I was trying to hurt myself as Frank had called it the time I'd almost cheated on him after Chicago.

Bella didn't do physical jobs at all, and Miko never got ones that required any sort of open casket, just in case, although allegedly he'd gotten a lot better with a handler that wasn't trying to kill him. Joe was looking after him like he'd promised, the same as he looked after me. I talked to them sometimes, Bella more than Miko, but mostly I kept to myself. Joe would throw Serge and Michele the odd job Bella wouldn't do because I didn't want to go back to Paris.

I got the bulk of sniper jobs, and I was good at them. Being a good shot was why I was currently stretched out on the rooftop wearing a black hat over my hair and watching a high powered lawyer who had a few minutes left to live through the scope of my rifle.

Michael Hartson was the sort of guy who would have gladly gotten a blowjob before he kicked me out for having one of my nightmares the night before an early morning meeting. He was Successful, moderately handsome and rich. He was probably a sociopath and he'd pissed off someone willing to part with a hundred grand to make him go away. Joe was getting pretty good at finding these new clients and I was just waiting for the right time to squeeze the trigger.

A sniper job was never going to look like an accident and I had no hard instructions, so timing was less an issue than just waiting for a clear shot. I opted to wait for Hartson to finished a phone conversation he was having. Finally, he tossed his phone onto a chair, walking towards a liquor cabinet. The back of his head. I could see the spot on his head where his hair was starting to thin. I exhaled and squeezed the trigger. There was a moment, a heartbeat length of time and then the spray of blood and he fell into the cabinet face first. I always liked a headshot and I liked the idea that the exit wound of the bullet would have fucked up his moderately handsome face in the same way Joe would someday shoot me in the face. Joe had winced when I'd asked him. Once Frank was avenged, no one else would get to look at me and it would be quick. It was a matter of time until I found Grace. It just remained to be seen if I'd be sucking dick of anyone who would let me in filthy bathrooms or if I'd kill her thus giving Joe the go-ahead to end my misery.

I was up off the coat I'd put down on the roof, already taking apart the gun to stuff back into the backpack I carried it in, and out the door that had led to the roof and down to the street where my car waited.

Lying is easy. Just wrap it up in enough truth that no one ever knows. Especially not when they want to believe you. I'd learned to lie from Charlie. Charlie who had recruited me on a whim to see if I could kill. Charlie who had lied and said he was a Doctor but who made me change my own bandages because he was old fashioned and afraid of The AIDS he thought I might have because I didn't even try to hide how gay I was. Charlie who had called Frank's brother when he found out about us and he had paid to have me killed because he was jealous. Charlie had been a shit person but he had been decent at lying. I soaked that skill in like a sponge during the month I spent in his hotel bed recovering from my stab wound.

Nasir knew I lied when I called to reschedule our appointment. He had made a new gun for me and was delivering it for my job. I had lied about why I'd rescheduled but Nasir hadn't even cared. I had used the headache excuse which everyone except Frank always believed. I hadn't had a proper debilitating headache in months although I still got the mild version too often. But Frank could read it on my face when it was about to happen. He usually knew a fraction before I did and had the medication ready. The seizures thankfully had stopped two years ago, but I still took the medication because just one of those could still kill me. Truthfully I had only rescheduled because I was feeling sorry for myself and Joe had probably told Nasir something when he'd arranged the pick-up. If it were anyone but our weird fucked up family I'd have been offended for the sake of my reputation. But Nasir was one of ours.

I arrived at the Aquarium shortly after eleven on Saturday, three days after we'd been supposed to meet. It was crawling with children and their parents. The screaming alone threatened to trigger one of my headaches and I took a pill, just in case. It wouldn't stop it, but it would keep it from being as bad as it could be. Nasir had said he would meet me in the Jellyfish room at eleven. I wandered through the underwater-simulated pathways taking my time like a regular tourist, looking at the fish in the tanks like I had come to see them and not to pick up a murder weapon.

Nasir was sitting on a bench in the jellyfish room when I arrived. He was polite enough not to point out I was over half an hour late. He looked calm and as handsome and as terrifying as I remembered. Nasir had worked for Angelo Silva for seventeen years before Silva had given him the gun factory as a retirement present. After seventeen years killing people he deserved it. Before he'd worked for Silva, he'd been a child soldier in Sierra Leone. He was probably one of the best assassins out there, second only to Frank. I sat down on the bench close enough we could talk but not too close to him that we looked like we were here together. Keeping it subtle I took a few pictures of the jellyfish with my cellphone. Nasir nudged a worn blue backpack sitting at his feet across the space that separated us so it rested next to my running shoes. Being a child soldier had apparently given him an Infinite amount of patience. He put up with Miko and he seemed to be putting up with Me well enough.

"I put the payment for Boston in the bottom of the bag," Nasir said. His eyes tracked the jellyfish with interest. "Miko says hello. ...And Toby packed cookies for you."

Miko says Hello. I instinctively looked at my chest to see if there was a little red dot floating there... The last time that little shit had 'said hello' I had thought I was going to die. I thought Frank was going to die. He was worse about pointing guns at people than I was and considering I had accidentally shot Frank twice while learning to shoot, that was significant.

We'd given Miko the 'Friends and Family' discount to clean up the mess with his boyfriend Toby's psycho stalker. Toby had begged Miko not to do it for some reason I'll never understand, so Miko came to us. Toby was a civilian and he wasn't fucked up like the rest of us I guess. I'd have done the job for free except for Frank's "If we don't get paid for it, we're just murderers." speech. I'd then offered to do it for Fifty Bucks.

The guy stalking Toby was a typical old-money douchebag messing around on his pregnant wife with a guy and then threatening the guy when he didn't get what he wanted. He was exactly the type of guy I'd have blown for a sofa to crash on when I was younger and use the bruises he left for sympathy on the next asshole. I'd gotten a smack upside my head for my offer but we took the job because Miko owed me a Hit. I personally didn't see a difference if we were paid for it or not aside from the fact that I liked nice cars and getting a good haircut ever six weeks. I didn't care about the semantics between Murderer and Assassin and we'd adopted Miko as 'ours'. He'd helped us during Assassin war. Miko had saved Frank's life and Nasir had killed Simon which had solved almost all of our assassin problems. Not to be outdone I had killed Malcom, and Karl, Hans, Yuri and Sebastian. For the record.

"Toby baked me cookies? Shit. I would have done that job for the cookies alone!"
I gave Nasir a cheerful smile and pulled open the zip of the backpack and began to root around past the gun parts until I found the tupperware. It wasn't a lie either, I really would have. Toby was that good of a cook. I put a cookie into my mouth and watched the jellyfish swim. The cookies were chocolate chip and they were as delicious as I had expected them to be. I ate all of them, and then handed the tupperware back to Nasir who was looking at me like I was a maniac.

I thanked him sweetly for the gun after I licked the crumbs off my fingers. From what I had seen it was as beautiful as the others he had made for us. We didn't talk much, but exchanged a few bits of news. Bella had given birth to a boy and she was furious. She'd wanted a girl to dress in designer babyclothes. Miko had accidentally dropped someone into an industrial meat grinder instead of pushing them off a factory cat-walk. Typical updates for people in our industry who couldn't have telephone conversations since there were no fucking payphones anymore.

Half an hour after Nasir left, I picked up the bag, slung it over my back and made my way through the rest of the aquarium, taking photos of the more interesting ocean creatures along the way. I looked like a slightly cuter than average teenager with an interest in sealife taking pictures with my phone and no one looked at me twice unless they were checking out my butt. I caught at least two men and gave them smiles to acknowledge their good taste. But they weren't Frank so I didn't lure them into the bathroom for a quickie. The weight of the gun on my back was enough of a comfort I didn't need to find it somewhere else. At least that was the lie I was telling myself to get through the day.