To Take the Will of An Angel

"It was an accident."

Four words and I was outplayed. I stood at the head of a hotel hallway, beige and brutally adorned, no longer advancing on the man I meant to kill. The smile at the corner of his mouth tripped a wire I'd tried so hard to keep taught. He wasn't even facing me, like I wasn't a threat, his brown dress shoes turned toward the other hall.

"An accident," I said, the trap springing open. I took a cautious step, though knowing already I could do nothing. "An accident killed the only thing keeping you from leaving St. August? You were tied to that trust, Matthew, the same as she was. That's money! Money you threw away when you shot her in the chest! And for what?"

"What is this, John? She was my wife. I should be the one outraged."

I gritted my teeth, imagining his head on the floor. "Do you feel anything? For her? For anyone but yourself?"

"You mischaracterize me," he said. By his smirk, he knew he could say anything. "I cared a great deal for Geneva. I contain my grief and I prioritize. It's not wise to be unprepared for the eventuality of death."

"Bullshit," I said. "You're a psycho. And you're spiralling."

His mouth twitched, but he carried on. "Language and insults don't suit you, John. I'll be going to my plane." He disappeared down the hall, and I could hear when his footsteps found the marble stairs.

I cursed profusely as I pulled out my phone. Amy answered on the first ring.

"John! What happened? You said you wouldn't call until--"

"I know," I said. "Amy, I let him go."

"What?! How?"

"He..." I gritted my teeth, "he said it was an accident." I started for the stairs myself.

"Bastard!" Amy said. "Shit, that means he knows about us."

"I know," I said. "We'll have to leave. Is there a chance we can follow him?"

There was silence on the other end.

"Amy."

"John, I'm staying," she said finally. I stopped at the top of the staircase, gritting my teeth. I had a sudden urge to throw the phone through the glass wall across the lobby.

"I was afraid you'd say that," I said as I continued down. "Amy, you can't stay in the States. One annonymous call and your life will be over. You'll be processed and I'll never see you again."

There was another long pause on her end as I made for the doors, stepping into the night.

"We didn't even..." she began.

"I know. He's got us."

"Shit. Fine."

"I'll send you an address," I said, and hung up.

As I crossed 42nd Street I looked up at the unmistakable outline of the Chrysler Building, as I'd done out of habit for the last three years. I'd met Amy up there on a tour. I'd dragged her into my world without any thought for the consequences.

I swore again, then hailed a cab.