"I really wish there was another way, pal."

Adonis' dominant right hand, slightly bloodied, reached around his back. He'd been here before, more times than he could remember but not so many that it yet haunted him.

It was a dirty business at times. Filthy even. And not the kind that washed off with a trip and a hefty tip at a Chinese dry cleaner. Not all of it. Just the evidence the deed was done and possible clues to how or where the body might've been disposed.

The grime that stayed was something else entirely. After the first, it wasn't as recognizable. Not necessarily to others. You walked taller though. As if your pores exuded a new kind of musk. But after the fingers, toes and flashbacks were no longer able to keep count it became somewhat obvious.

It couldn't not. So much death at the end of one's sleeve had a toll. One that was paid with bits of the soul. And eyes being the windows to one's inner self, one lingering glance, a shared moment, was all that was needed to see what was left, if anything.

Anyone else would've been pleading, begging, crying. Any attempt to stop the next step. It was the fear of the unknown that did it. At least that's what Adonis thought. He'd seen many break, and all at that same moment. Just as they realized he was there for one specific reason and there was no stopping it, and that the next step they'd be taking would be their last.

The unknown, but the inevitable. Everyone knew it would come at some point. As the saying went, just like taxes. But in this life it wasn't always that simple. Being forced into the vast abys of nothingness before one was ready, that was what probably had most on their knees. Even those who before then felt too proud to kneel before anyone or anything, well, that wasn't some form of currency.

Money. In that moment, their prized possessions no longer needed on their fireplace mantle. Promises of values, riches and material wealth. A last grasp, hoping he worshipped it as much as they did, as they had. It was a God to many. And if banks were open on Sundays, there might not be a soul in Church.

Adonis did it for more though. For more than something he'd likely lose at some point. To the roll of the dice. Or a bluff on pocket 3's. Or as he hoped, to his last breath. For him, it was about the fame. The loyalty. And sometimes, mercy.

Their eyes didn't need to meet. He knew. He didn't need to see the growing darkness in the soul of the intruder. He knew why Adonis was here. He knew before he woke up and sat in the same seat he'd been in all morning and part of the afternoon. He'd put it off long enough. It was time.

In his case, Adonis was right about him. For him to truly win, he had to lose. His life was a mess. His wife, no more. Never had kids, which was the extent of his luck, for he hadn't churned out more failed attempts at success like himself. He would joke to the other prison officers that he must be cursed. That the God's showed him no favour.

Whether or not it was true, and whether it came to pass because he fixated on that excuse for so long, didn't matter now. The losses spoke for themselves. At least he rode the wave and rode it all the way to the shore. And maybe his biggest mistake through it all was setting sail on a ship called hope.

Adonis stepped forward, towards the back of the light blue arm chair. It was a decent house they were in. A reminder of times when things weren't so grim for Ray. As he approached, Adonis noticed a picture frame on a side table next to the chair Ray was seated in. Ray's arms were resting on the arm rests, visible, and still.

As he got closer, Adonis removed a silver Colt Detective Special snubnosed revolver from his waistline at the small of his back. His footsteps were rhythmic against the floorboards, and like a slowly fading heartbeat, they finally stopped. Adonis could see over the back of the chair and a portion of Ray, the top of his balding head and his bare outstretched legs coming out of a pair of stained cotton briefs. He seemed to be slumped down.

"We were happy once." Ray said, cutting through the silence with a somber tone, catching Adonis by surprise. Ray's left hand reached out and picked up the picture frame from the round wooden table to his left. A weightless flask fell off and onto the floor, dragged down by a white bit of fabric that draped over it but that wasn't sitting straight.

"In love. In lust. We actually met at a game of poker." Ray continued as he held the picture up, looking at what was a photo of himself and his wife on their wedding day. They did look happy.

"Off the shore, on a boat. I'd saved up for a year just to be able to afford to go on that cruise. Got a new suit. A haircut. And not the regular type. Had it newly styled, parted to the right. And when we were sneaking out to meet one another months later, she said I looked like a movie star that night."

Ray placed the frame back down on the stand, just as Joe stepped a little more forward and to the left, finally getting a glimpse of Ray's face, who looked up and back at him on an angle. Adonis' gun hung at his right side, out of view, behind the chair.

"And that night we vowed to be together forever. It was the night I told her I loved her the moment I saw her." Ray said with a sigh through a now quivering mouth. Joe noticed the man's eyes were red and tears began to slide down his already wet cheeks.

They were different tears than he was use to seeing. Not in the actual tears, as unless he was about to plug daylight into a dame wearing smudged makeup, they all looked the same. It was where they were coming from. The eyes didn't speak of fear. They were sad. Regretful. Heart broken. It was confirmed as Joe stepped further to his left, around the side of the chair. They were love sick. The gun on Ray's lap was what affirmed it.

Joe stood at attention. His right hand moved to be in front of his abdomen and his left hand clasped against his right wrist. Ray's weeping eyes looked down at Joe's hands. Catching sight of the gun, he simply nodded.

Joe tried not to show it but he felt for the guy. The type of empathy that came from actually stepping into another's shoes. He'd been here before. As the one with the broken heart. The one drinking to old memories. The one holding the gun. And just like Ray, he didn't pull the trigger. Not yet anyway.

He felt for the guy. He truly did. Usually it was a cold stare and no matter the begging, pleading or promises he would systematically raise and point his gun before squeezing the trigger. But as he stood there watching the man lay his soul bare, he had a sudden change of heart. Joe tucked the gun back into his suit pants.

The man was broken. In a way losing hellishly big at the tables and being unable to come through on promise after promise to pay his debts just couldn't compare. No beatings could. No threats could. Losing the love of his life was the worst of the worst.

"Abyssinia, Ray." Joe said as he fixed his jacket over his gun. His eyes weren't the usual steel blue. They had a soft tinge to them.

"You be cafeful with that thing. It might give you more than a crooked grin."

"See you, Joe." Ray replied as he wiped his face. He flashed a smile for a moment. A genuine, heart felt thank you.

The sound of Joe's footsteps filled the space once more until his shiny black shoes hit a large piece of carpet which lay just inside the front door. His heart was captured for a moment, and maybe it would be again. It was, however, the first time he'd ever left a job of this nature without leaving a corpse behind.

As Joe stepped out the front door, the afternoon sun welcomed him. It felt like a warm hug from a familiar friend as it pressed itself against him. Joe paused a moment to take it in, closing his eyes as he felt the blessing against his face, losing time and his sense of self to lap it up.

A rustling in the bushes brought him back down to earth. Adonis shuffled down the stairs as his usual demeanour returned. Straight faced, chin in the air a little higher than average and a look of determination in his eyes which had his brow slightly furrowed. He made lively tracks through the small front yard which had a garden bed on each side of a paved path.

As he neared the white wooden waist-high front gate, Adonis made sure to step over the pair of legs protruding from a rose bush. As he exited, he turned to shut the gate behind him, noticing the bloodied man starting to wake up.

Adonis hot-stepped into a waiting taxi. He let out a sigh as he unbuttoned the front of his suit jacket, then the top button on his white shirt. The driver kicked the car into motion without instruction, the tires screeching as it pulled away from the curb and picked up speed.

"Abyssinia, Ray." Adonis said aloud as he loosened his tie, catching the attention of the driver who glanced at him in the rearview mirror.

Some days you had to just go against the grain. For honour. For respect. Adonis left the man with the option to go out on his own sword, if that was his choice. True love was a passionate undertaking. Sometimes a dangerous game. Especially one that burned so hot it consumed everything around it. Adonis had been there. Joe, had been there.

"Abyssinia." Adonis echoed as he looked out the window of the taxi at the streets blurring by.

The Race St. associate closed his eyes as the sun once again made its presence felt, peeking out from behind a building as they stopped at an intersection. Maybe he'd see Ray again in this life. Maybe in another. But most likely, in a castle in the sky.