by Mark J. Reagan
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\n\u201cLet\u2019s just be enemies.\u201d<\/p>\n
They were the four words that every man hates to hear from the woman he loves.<\/p>\n
\u201cYeah, yeah, I guess we can be friends.\u201d\u00a0 I am so damn lame.\u00a0 Friends?\u00a0 No.\u00a0 Screw that.\u00a0 I have enough\u2014<\/p>\n
\u201cNot friends.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHuh?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cEnemies.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHuh?\u201d<\/p>\n
Aleksandra leaned back, spread her arms over the backs of the chairs next to her and glowered at me, her brow furrowed beneath a straight edge of red hair.<\/p>\n
\u201cEnemies,\u201d she repeated, her Russian accent giving the word a seductive quality that chilled me.<\/p>\n
\u201cEnemies?\u00a0 What?\u00a0 Why?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cBecause I hate you.\u201d<\/p>\n
She pursed her lips, licked them like she was about to devour one of the peppermint white chocolate mochas she enjoyed several times a day.\u00a0 It was a look of which I had dreamed of being the target.<\/p>\n
Now, not so much.<\/p>\n
\u201cNo,\u201d she said with a curt shake of her head, \u201chate is not a strong enough word.\u00a0 Hate may be strong enough for an ass like you to use…\u00a0 Disdain?\u00a0 I disdain you?\u00a0 No, that\u2019s not right either.\u00a0 Perhaps despise.\u00a0 I\u2019ll think on this later.\u201d<\/p>\n
She snapped her fingers and her bodyguards aimed pistols at my forehead.<\/p>\n
Maybe…\u00a0 \u201cCan we just be friends?\u201d I said.<\/p>\n
She laughed at me, like a pig snorting mud, and I laughed, too.\u00a0 I always laughed when she made that sound.\u00a0 So did her bodyguards.\u00a0 She covered her mouth and tried to stop laughing, which made everyone laugh more.\u00a0 It only made her more attractive to me; a woman who can laugh at herself is one to be valued.<\/p>\n
She waved her hand for everyone to stop laughing, to realize the severity of the situation.<\/p>\n
\u201cThat\u2019s enough now,\u201d she said.\u00a0 \u201cLook, Georgie\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cTurner,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n
\u201cTurner?\u00a0 You look like a Georgie to me.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou\u2019ve known me for years!\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHas it been that long?\u201d<\/p>\n
She looked to the bodyguard with a handlebar mustache on her right.\u00a0 The bodyguard shrugged.<\/p>\n
\u201cIt doesn\u2019t matter,\u201d she said.\u00a0 \u201cYou know, I liked you until you kissed me.\u00a0 It was so sudden, it shocked me.\u00a0 And then all those messages and…\u201d\u00a0 She reached out and touched my hands.\u00a0 \u201cYou understand.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI guess…\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou do,\u201d she said and leaned back again.\u00a0 \u201cThe kiss wouldn\u2019t have been so bad, but you came off afterward as so pathetic and miserable.\u00a0 You took initiative and then curled into a fetus.\u00a0 I don\u2019t like that.\u00a0 My men must have spines like steel, not syrup.\u00a0 There\u2019s a time to be supplicating and a time to not.\u00a0 And after kissing me?\u00a0 That\u2019s not one of those times.\u00a0 You apologized for it.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cOh.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThat\u2019s all you can say?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m not sure what to say with guns pointed at me.\u201d<\/p>\n
She sighed, a puff of breath disturbing the hair above her eyes.\u00a0 A friend once told me that all redheads were evil, and Aleksandra was not the exception.\u00a0 It made me want her more.<\/p>\n
\u201cHere,\u201d she said, \u201clet\u2019s have some fun.\u201d\u00a0 She held out a hand to the guard with the platinum blonde hair, asking for a pistol.\u00a0 \u201cI\u2019ll give you a head start.\u00a0 Thirty seconds, and I\u2019ll chase you down myself.\u201d<\/p>\n
Was she serious?\u00a0 There\u2019s no way she could run me down in a black cocktail dress and stiletto heels… but at the same time, we were in her walled-off compound.\u00a0 I was surrounded, but I still had my gun on me.\u00a0 Why did she let me keep my gun?\u00a0 She knew I had it.\u00a0 Did she want me to shoot back at her?\u00a0 Maybe she did\u2014I didn\u2019t want to think about it.\u00a0 She\u2019s sick, that\u2019s all there is to it.\u00a0 After killing for a woman for two years, a guy thinks he\u2019s capable of judging her to be sane.<\/p>\n
\u201cThirty seconds?\u201d I said.<\/p>\n
\u201cGive or take.\u00a0 I might change my mind.\u201d<\/p>\n
I\u2019m grinning.\u00a0 Shouldn\u2019t I feel crushed by the whole situation?<\/p>\n
\u201cI always wanted a woman to chase me.\u201d<\/p>\n
I stood, knowing that I would shoot her if I had to, without hesitation.\u00a0 Even though I loved her.\u00a0 Or maybe I didn\u2019t.\u00a0 I don\u2019t know!\u00a0 Damn.<\/p>\n
She snorted.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhen do we start?\u201d I said.<\/p>\n
She flipped over her wrist, looked at her watch.<\/p>\n
\u201cNow.\u201d<\/p>\n
I ran.\u00a0 But not far.\u00a0 I ducked behind a suit of armor in the hallway and hid.\u00a0 At fifteen seconds, she came running down the hall, barefoot.\u00a0 I kicked her legs as she ran by, tripping her, gun tumbling from her hand, a laugh from her throat.\u00a0 She started to stand, but I threw her up to her feet and pressed my gun to her temple.\u00a0 I whipped around, holding her in front of me.\u00a0 The bodyguards following her stopped.\u00a0 I ducked down to avoid having them blow my head off; Aleksandra was a full foot shorter than me.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019ll shoot her!\u201d I said.\u00a0 The bodyguards didn\u2019t fire, but didn\u2019t flinch either.\u00a0 Good men.<\/p>\n
\u201cNow this<\/em> is more like it!\u201d she said.\u00a0 \u201cGo on, shoot me.\u201d<\/p>\n I tangoed backward down the hallway with her.<\/p>\n \u201cNot until I\u2019m out of here.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cEven if you do, I\u2019ll still find you.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cMaybe.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cDefinitely.\u201d<\/p>\n I made my way toward the garage, gaining a following of men with guns trained on us.<\/p>\n \u201cFollow us and she\u2019s dead,\u201d I said, and she shrugged.\u00a0 I pushed us into a red corvette, made her drive, gun still against her head.\u00a0 And we drove out.\u00a0 A mile outside the gates, in the forest, she stopped the car.<\/p>\n \u201cKeep driving,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n \u201cGo on,\u201d she answered.\u00a0 \u201cShoot me.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cDon\u2019t be such a bitch.\u00a0 Shoot.\u00a0 Me.\u00a0 You said you would.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cUm, no.\u00a0 You can get out.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou\u2019re giving me permission to get out?\u00a0 If you want me to get out, tell me to get out.\u00a0 Either tell me to get out, or shoot me.\u201d<\/p>\n I didn\u2019t shoot.<\/p>\n \u201cYou know what?\u00a0 This whole damn situation is pancakes,\u201d she said and reached between her thighs, up her dress, retrieved a snub-nosed revolver and spun it on one finger with the grace of a gunslinger toward my head and oh my god I shot her.<\/p>\n Hole in her forehead, hole in the window, both dripping blood.<\/p>\n \u201cOh shit shit shit I\u2019m sorry!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThere you go again,\u201d she said and sat up right.\u00a0 Her finger circled the rim of the hole in her skull, and she smiled at the blood-coated tip.\u00a0 \u201cStop apologizing for every little thing and\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n I shot her again.<\/p>\n \u201c\u2014be a real man.\u201d<\/p>\n A third time.\u00a0 A fourth.<\/p>\n \u201cGo get \u2018em!\u201d she said.<\/p>\n The fifth, sixth and seventh shots pierced her, she laughed her pig snort, bullets in her brain, her neck, her chest, and I laughed right with her, laughter fused with crying.\u00a0 She laid against the door, brought her legs up over the stick and crossed them over my lap.<\/p>\n \u201cRight here, tiger,\u201d she said and traced an X over her heart.\u00a0 My hand was shaking so bad that I missed the eighth shot.\u00a0 \u201cI\u2019m waiting.\u201d<\/p>\n Number nine went right through the X\u2019s center.<\/p>\n She rubbed the bullet hole, tussled her hair.<\/p>\n I leaped out of the car, started to charge away, and I heard her feet on the road behind me.\u00a0 Aleksandra clamped down on my shoulders and spun me around and I unloaded the rest of the clip into her.\u00a0 She fell back and squirmed on the asphalt.\u00a0 Why wouldn\u2019t she stop laughing?\u00a0 She should be dead!\u00a0 This\u2014<\/p>\n I jumped into the car, threw it into gear, tires screeching, and I hit her, front end crumpling.\u00a0 I hit her again.\u00a0 Backed over her, my head hitting the roof.\u00a0 I collapsed, my forehead against the steering wheel, lungs pumping to try and calm down for one second, and she opened the passenger door and got in, stained with blood, with dirt, her dress torn, hair in desperate need of her stylist.\u00a0 I planted my eyes in my hands rather than look at her.<\/p>\n She patted me on the shoulder.\u00a0 A pity pat.<\/p>\n \u201cNice try,\u201d she said.\u00a0 \u201cHow are you holding up?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou.\u00a0 Dead.\u00a0 You should be.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNah, I\u2019m all right.\u00a0 Here.\u201d\u00a0 She handed me a bloody handkerchief from her cleavage, and I wiped my tears and blew my nose.\u00a0 \u201cNot so bad, is it?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo…\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI admire your gusto when you get down to it.\u00a0 Georgie, you\u2019re a really nice guy, but\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI… I thought you liked me, Turner, not Georg\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cLook, I\u2019m a big flirt.\u00a0 It\u2019s my nature, I enjoy it.\u00a0 Did it come across as me leading you on?\u201d<\/p>\n I nodded and blew my nose again.<\/p>\n \u201cThen I apologize.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou don\u2019t despise me?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI did, but this was good.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cDo we have a chance?\u201d<\/p>\n Pig snort.\u00a0 \u201cNo.\u00a0 I just got out of this three year relationship and…\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou did?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYeah.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou… you could\u2019ve said something before I kissed you.\u201d<\/p>\n She lifted my face from the steering wheel, forced me to look at her.\u00a0 The bullet holes were almost healed.<\/p>\n \u201cI keep my business to myself.\u00a0 And I was conflicted.\u00a0 You\u2019re cute, but I thought we were just having a good time.\u201d<\/p>\n I wiped my eyes again.\u00a0 \u201cAt least you\u2019re forward, I guess.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cSometimes,\u201d she said and patted my cheek.\u00a0 \u201cSo yeah, why don\u2019t we just be friends?\u201d<\/p>\n I crossed my arms, turned away.\u00a0 \u201cBut I don\u2019t wanna be friends.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI admit it,\u201d she said, \u201ca relationship with you would no doubt be interesting.\u00a0 You kill for me, but you can turn into a softy like this?\u00a0 It\u2019s intriguing, but that\u2019s not what I want for me right now.\u00a0 There\u2019s someone out there for you, tiger.\u00a0 So after all this, think we can be friends?\u00a0 You can keep your job.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI guess…\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI can\u2019t let you go.\u00a0 No one would really believe you, but I\u2019d rather not have rumors spread around right now.\u00a0 And you\u2019re useful.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI… I\u2019ll try.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThat\u2019s all I\u2019m asking,\u201d she said.\u00a0 \u201cBetter than the alternative, right?\u201d<\/p>\n It really was.\u00a0 Thinking about it, I don\u2019t think I had ever been more relieved to just be friends with a woman.\u00a0 She couldn\u2019t die… or something.\u00a0 Not a bad friend to have, really.<\/p>\n \u201cRight,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n She held out her pinky.\u00a0 \u201cPinky swear on it?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou won\u2019t kill me?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNah, not for this, Geor\u2014Turner.\u201d<\/p>\n I entwined my pinky with hers and shook.<\/p>\n \u201cGreat,\u201d she said.\u00a0 \u201cNow drive us back and clean up your mess.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n She yanked down on my earlobe and twisted.<\/p>\n \u201cOw!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThis is<\/em> the time to be supplicating.\u00a0 Drive.<\/em>\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYes, ma\u2019am.\u201d<\/p>\n I rubbed my ear and turned the car around. by Mark J. Reagan \u201cLet\u2019s just be enemies.\u201d They were the four words that every man hates to hear from the woman he loves. \u201cYeah, yeah, I guess we can be friends.\u201d\u00a0 I am so damn lame.\u00a0 Friends?\u00a0 No.\u00a0 Screw … Continue reading
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\nMARK J. REAGAN<\/strong> is a bad cook, can sprint fifty feet before running out of breath, be blown over by strong gusts of wind and lives in Denver. Other than writing, he enjoys things like Salsa dancing, studying interpersonal communication and pretending to be more grandiloquent than he actually is.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"