Your friend,
Six
There is another date and another entry the next year.
Dear Lionfish,
I need to get this out in case you ever read this. I didn’t come here to spy on you from afar. I was ordered by your father. It seems he has a hard time accepting no for an answer. So my assignment is to sit in this restaurant and watch you play on the beach. I’m good and drunk right now, so I apologize for my sloppy writing. But accepting someone’s daughter as payment is more than even my assassin’s soul can handle.
I do not want you.
I will never want you.
Six
Good God, I didn’t expect resentment. I close the book and all those happy thoughts I had a minute ago are gone. He doesn’t want me. My heart beats fast again and I take a few deep breaths to calm it. Harper, be reasonable, that inner voice says. That was a long time ago. He was very young.
Eighteen.
He was eighteen that year. Not a kid anymore. And not a novice assassin either.
I take the book over to the couch and settle back against the plush light green cushions. He has a thing for green. The house is the same color outside. I open the book to the fourth entry. My birthday three years later.
Dear Lionfish,
Once again, your ass**le father sentences me to baby-watching. Once again you play on the beach. And once again I sit here and think about how many people are dead this year because of me. Ten. Ten more people added to my tally. You’re still a cute little blonde girl. How old now, nine? I’m nineteen. A f**king man. You know what I was doing for my last birthday? Take one guess.
This year I was invited to a private island. Right across from the one you’re on. Your father left me binoculars and I resisted watching you for almost the entire day. But the islands are not that far apart and I heard your squealing laughter when they brought out the cake.
And now I can’t take my eyes off you.
I don’t want you.
No amount of innocent smiles will make me love you. Because you are everything wrong with this dirty, dark f**ked-up life I live.
Six
I have to swallow down the bile rising up from my stomach as I finish.
Surely he didn’t feel this way every year. Did he?
Dear Lionfish
Dear Lionfish
Dear Lionfish
Dear Lionfish
Dear Lionfish
Dear Lionfish
Dear Lionfish
Seven years pass and with each letter, the words are more venomous and hateful. But the last entry is not addressed to me and it was not on my birthday. It’s dated a few months ago.
Dear Amber,
Let every life I take in your name be the proof of my love.
James
I don’t know why, but the fact that he signed his name James instead of Six hurts more than the love part. Because this Amber person meant something to him. More than me, that’s for sure.
I disgust him. My age especially—he made that clear in letter after letter. When he told me back in Huntington that he was not bothered by my age, I knew he was lying. But this? This is much more than being bothered.
It’s almost… repulsion.
I’m just a lionfish.
What did he say to me back in Huntington? The pretty girl with the poison daggers poking through her skin.
That’s how he sees me. For real. He’s here for one of two reasons. To take me back to my father or to take me for himself. And I’m not sure I like either option. Because from the way it’s looking, he’s got no real feelings for me beyond what I can do for him.
I’m just a way forward into revenge.
I think back to the message from Nick. We’ll talk soon, he’d said. Nick is the one I trust. Not James. And if Nick knows where I am, then I’m not in any danger from James. Nick would not leave me some place to get hurt. He’d give me instructions to follow and get me to safety. So, if he didn’t give me bug-out instructions, I need to stay put.
I stick the little notebook in my pocket. I really do not want to have that conversation with James. At all. I don’t want to hear the excuses. I don’t want to hear the fake promises he has ready for me, should I stop being compliant. I don’t want to watch his face when he lies.
He will lie. I’ve always known he was lying, didn’t I? I’ve always felt it.
And when he does lie…
I reach into my pants and pull out the gun.
I’ll be ready.
Chapter Five - James
I hate this kid.
Most of the time I’m OK with kids. I sorta like them. If I wasn’t a killer, and my children wouldn’t become property like I did, then yeah, I might have a kid.
But this Sasha girl. I have nothing. No feelings whatsoever. And that’s weird, because a few hours ago I felt sorry for her. I bought her some clothes. I picked some leaves out of her hair. Like I was on my way to caring. Or at the very least, giving more than zero f**ks about her. But not anymore.
Because she’s lying.
She’s lying and even though I can guess what she’s hiding, I don’t like having to guess. I like being in on the plan. So I’m pissed about the lying—and she shot an arrow at me. I’m still sorta pissed about that too.
“Fucking kid.”
“Fucking hunter,” she snaps back.
“You’re like ten years old. No swearing.”
“Fourteen.”
“Twelve.”
“Thirteen.”
She’s pushing my buttons on purpose now, sitting on the other side of the aisle. It’s only a five-passenger plane, so she’s not that far away. A few feet. But the gulf of hostility between us seems insurmountable. Her eyes are wide and alert, her body posture tense and ready for an attack. And I don’t blame her for that because if we weren’t up in a plane, I’d be choking the life out of her until she gave up her secret. But I need Harrison. I do not have time to find and vet another pilot. Especially since Merc is busy. He’s my go-to for off-the-books shit like that.
“Almost there, folks,” Harrison calls from the front.
Just keep cool, Tet. Just keep cool until you get her alone. Then all bets are off. I might not have ever killed a little girl before, but there’s a first time for everything. I crack my knuckles.
“I’ll fight back,” she says, just loud enough so I can hear but Harrison cannot. “I won’t let you get me.”
I nod but stare out the window closest to me, not meeting her gaze. “I’m shaking, kid. Quaking in my f**king boots.”
Six
There is another date and another entry the next year.
Dear Lionfish,
I need to get this out in case you ever read this. I didn’t come here to spy on you from afar. I was ordered by your father. It seems he has a hard time accepting no for an answer. So my assignment is to sit in this restaurant and watch you play on the beach. I’m good and drunk right now, so I apologize for my sloppy writing. But accepting someone’s daughter as payment is more than even my assassin’s soul can handle.
I do not want you.
I will never want you.
Six
Good God, I didn’t expect resentment. I close the book and all those happy thoughts I had a minute ago are gone. He doesn’t want me. My heart beats fast again and I take a few deep breaths to calm it. Harper, be reasonable, that inner voice says. That was a long time ago. He was very young.
Eighteen.
He was eighteen that year. Not a kid anymore. And not a novice assassin either.
I take the book over to the couch and settle back against the plush light green cushions. He has a thing for green. The house is the same color outside. I open the book to the fourth entry. My birthday three years later.
Dear Lionfish,
Once again, your ass**le father sentences me to baby-watching. Once again you play on the beach. And once again I sit here and think about how many people are dead this year because of me. Ten. Ten more people added to my tally. You’re still a cute little blonde girl. How old now, nine? I’m nineteen. A f**king man. You know what I was doing for my last birthday? Take one guess.
This year I was invited to a private island. Right across from the one you’re on. Your father left me binoculars and I resisted watching you for almost the entire day. But the islands are not that far apart and I heard your squealing laughter when they brought out the cake.
And now I can’t take my eyes off you.
I don’t want you.
No amount of innocent smiles will make me love you. Because you are everything wrong with this dirty, dark f**ked-up life I live.
Six
I have to swallow down the bile rising up from my stomach as I finish.
Surely he didn’t feel this way every year. Did he?
Dear Lionfish
Dear Lionfish
Dear Lionfish
Dear Lionfish
Dear Lionfish
Dear Lionfish
Dear Lionfish
Seven years pass and with each letter, the words are more venomous and hateful. But the last entry is not addressed to me and it was not on my birthday. It’s dated a few months ago.
Dear Amber,
Let every life I take in your name be the proof of my love.
James
I don’t know why, but the fact that he signed his name James instead of Six hurts more than the love part. Because this Amber person meant something to him. More than me, that’s for sure.
I disgust him. My age especially—he made that clear in letter after letter. When he told me back in Huntington that he was not bothered by my age, I knew he was lying. But this? This is much more than being bothered.
It’s almost… repulsion.
I’m just a lionfish.
What did he say to me back in Huntington? The pretty girl with the poison daggers poking through her skin.
That’s how he sees me. For real. He’s here for one of two reasons. To take me back to my father or to take me for himself. And I’m not sure I like either option. Because from the way it’s looking, he’s got no real feelings for me beyond what I can do for him.
I’m just a way forward into revenge.
I think back to the message from Nick. We’ll talk soon, he’d said. Nick is the one I trust. Not James. And if Nick knows where I am, then I’m not in any danger from James. Nick would not leave me some place to get hurt. He’d give me instructions to follow and get me to safety. So, if he didn’t give me bug-out instructions, I need to stay put.
I stick the little notebook in my pocket. I really do not want to have that conversation with James. At all. I don’t want to hear the excuses. I don’t want to hear the fake promises he has ready for me, should I stop being compliant. I don’t want to watch his face when he lies.
He will lie. I’ve always known he was lying, didn’t I? I’ve always felt it.
And when he does lie…
I reach into my pants and pull out the gun.
I’ll be ready.
Chapter Five - James
I hate this kid.
Most of the time I’m OK with kids. I sorta like them. If I wasn’t a killer, and my children wouldn’t become property like I did, then yeah, I might have a kid.
But this Sasha girl. I have nothing. No feelings whatsoever. And that’s weird, because a few hours ago I felt sorry for her. I bought her some clothes. I picked some leaves out of her hair. Like I was on my way to caring. Or at the very least, giving more than zero f**ks about her. But not anymore.
Because she’s lying.
She’s lying and even though I can guess what she’s hiding, I don’t like having to guess. I like being in on the plan. So I’m pissed about the lying—and she shot an arrow at me. I’m still sorta pissed about that too.
“Fucking kid.”
“Fucking hunter,” she snaps back.
“You’re like ten years old. No swearing.”
“Fourteen.”
“Twelve.”
“Thirteen.”
She’s pushing my buttons on purpose now, sitting on the other side of the aisle. It’s only a five-passenger plane, so she’s not that far away. A few feet. But the gulf of hostility between us seems insurmountable. Her eyes are wide and alert, her body posture tense and ready for an attack. And I don’t blame her for that because if we weren’t up in a plane, I’d be choking the life out of her until she gave up her secret. But I need Harrison. I do not have time to find and vet another pilot. Especially since Merc is busy. He’s my go-to for off-the-books shit like that.
“Almost there, folks,” Harrison calls from the front.
Just keep cool, Tet. Just keep cool until you get her alone. Then all bets are off. I might not have ever killed a little girl before, but there’s a first time for everything. I crack my knuckles.
“I’ll fight back,” she says, just loud enough so I can hear but Harrison cannot. “I won’t let you get me.”
I nod but stare out the window closest to me, not meeting her gaze. “I’m shaking, kid. Quaking in my f**king boots.”
