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I look around again, meeting everyone’s gaze before smiling at the room. “Come on, folks. Show’s over. Next round’s on me.”

Laughter and cheering quickly erupts as people take their seats. I walk over to the bar and get a clean glass down from the shelf, then start to pour the first beer.

4

23:40 CDT

I’m in bed, sitting propped up against the pillows with my hands behind my head. In the bathroom, Tori’s brushing her teeth. She’d been concerned after the showdown in the bar earlier in the evening, but I think I’ve managed to appease her for now.

I’m trying to think who those guys could’ve worked for. In this new world we live in, it’s hard to imagine they could represent any significant criminal organization. All the things that made criminal empires any money were legal, so they’d all but disappeared.

It’s a good thing I’m not still working as a hitman, as I’d be facing a recession of my own.

I had to expect things like this to happen from time to time though — it’s a drawback of being who I used to be, I guess. The man might be long gone, but the legend clearly lives on.

I dismiss it from my mind as Tori appears at the bathroom door, leaning seductively on the frame wearing a skimpy T-shirt and panties.

“Hey,” she says with a killer smile.

“Hey yourself,” I reply.

She walks over and, as she nears the bed, I reach up and put my hands on her waist, whisking her off her feet and onto the bed next to me. I roll over on top of her, leaning down to kiss her. She meets me halfway, pressing her lips tenderly against mine. After a few moments, we part, our heart rates slightly higher than they were before. We smile at each other, and I lean in again, but she puts her hand on my chest and pushes me back, then props herself up on her elbow, looking at me.

“What happened tonight, Ady?” she asks me.

I sigh. “Like I said, they were just three guys lookin’ to cause trouble,” I reply.

“I know, you said that. But why would you invite them into the back room first?”

“One of them had a gun… They said they wanted to talk to me, so I did what I thought was right to protect the people in my bar.”

“And that’s real thoughtful of you, baby. But you sometimes forget that a) I know you, and b) you can’t lie for shit.”

She smiles, and I can’t help but smile back. She’s not mad at me for anything; she’s just looking out for me and wants me to be honest with her. And I hate lying to her. I briefly think whether I actually need to… I mean, she’s crazy about me, and she’s a genuinely great woman. Would she understand if I told her about my former life?

Probably not…

“I honestly have no idea who they were — I just didn’t want anyone getting hurt.”

She traces her finger over my chest as she talks. “What did they wanna talk to you about?”

“One of them said something about his boss offering me a job… I don’t know what that entailed — I didn’t give them chance to tell me.”

“Yeah, I saw that part. Did you really beat the crap outta three guys?”

I shrug, humbly. “It’s no big deal. I—”

“Adrian, look…” she says, interrupting me, sitting up, and staring straight into my eyes. “I know you don’t like talking about your past, and I respect that, and don’t ask. It honestly doesn’t bother me. I didn’t know you back then. I know you now. And I love you now. That’s all that matters to me. But please give me something… some idea of who you used to be. Most ordinary people can’t beat up three guys without even breaking a sweat. I worry about you.”

I think for a minute. I look at her beautiful face, full of care and concern. I decide to tell her something. Just enough to put her mind to rest. I owe her that much. God knows why, but this woman loves me. And, damn it, I love her right back.

“Okay,” I begin. “I used to be in the military. I was a soldier and I did some… special operations, back in the day. I’m well trained and can handle myself. After I quit, I worked as a consultant in the private sector for a few years…”

I trail off as I think back, momentarily realizing that this is the same lie I told my wife and daughter to keep them from knowing I was an assassin. I feel a pang of guilt, but I continue.

“…I retired with a good pension, and came here to Texas to start over. Maybe those guys were with a government contractor or something? It’s not uncommon to hire ex-soldiers for private security firms.”

She’s silent for a moment, listening intently, processing the information.

“So, you were some kind of special forces, action hero-type guy, huh?”

“I… I guess, yeah.”

She climbs on top of me, straddling my waist and takes off her T-shirt. “That is so hot…” she says, smiling as she leans down and kisses me.

APRIL 8TH, 2017
06:31 CDT

I wake up early the next morning. The dawn light shines through my curtains like always. Tori is fast asleep, lying on her front with her arm and leg draped over me. I gently slide out from under her and pull my jeans on. I make my way downstairs and put on a pot of coffee before walking out into the bar. Styx greets me with his standard head-rub on the legs, and then wanders off to the back in search of food. I crack my neck and set about taking the chairs off the tables, ready for the day ahead.

After a few minutes, I hear a banging on the shutters from outside. I get the keys from behind the bar and walk over to open it up. Having just the saloon doors on the place, I need some proper security at night.

I lift up the shutter and see a man standing there. He has shoulder-length, dark gray hair, and a handlebar mustache. His face is rough and tired, hardened and grizzled after countless years of doing what he does. The morning sun reflects off his badge. He tips his hat up slightly, revealing his eyes.

“Mornin’, Adrian,” he says.

Sheriff John Raynor has been in charge of Devil’s Spring, I think, since God himself was in kindergarten. He’s old, but in that timeless kind of way — doesn’t matter how aged he might look, he always moves, speaks, and thinks the same way. Everybody in town knows him well. And they respect him without question. He has an old-school state of mind, much like myself.

I have a lot of time for Sheriff Raynor.

“Mornin’, John,” I reply, stepping aside to invite him in. “Early start for you, isn’t it?”

“No rest for the wicked.” He smiles a friendly but humorless smile as he takes off his hat. “Sorry to disturb you. I know you’re an early riser, so took a chance you’d be up and about.”

“I’ll sleep when I’m dead,” I say with a smile. “Coffee?”

“Sure, thanks,” replies Raynor.

“Black, no sugar, right?”

‘Is there another way to drink it?’

“So some people tell me.”

“Sick bastards…”

We laugh like old friends and he follows me into the back. I gesture to a chair.

“What can I do for you, Sheriff?” I ask as I pour the coffee.

Raynor sits down, resting his hat on the table and taking the mug from me. “I hear there was some trouble here last night?”

I shrug. “It was nothin’, really. Just a couple of guys trying to cause problems, and they didn’t like it when I asked them to leave.”

“So what happened?”

“I made ‘em leave.”

He nods and takes a sip of his coffee. “Fair enough.”

“Why are you really here, John?”

He regards me for a moment. “A few hours ago, a white rental car was found parked on the side of the road leading out of town. One of the truckers coming in from San Antonio called it in. Inside the car were three men, all executed. Single gunshot wound to the head on each of ’em. No evidence of a struggle. Keys in the ignition, engine running.”