J

The brush passed through her hair in slow motion. One passage after the other, one centimetre after the other. She had beautiful long hair now, it was true. And it was true that that kind of hair required a lot of attention. But even with that she was really too precious, too meticulous. It wasn’t the worst part. The nightdress was.

She was getting ready to sleep. She went through her routine, dressed in a thin, satin nightgown trimmed with lace. The edge of her black bra was barely visible, like a sensual evocation. Could she be any more of a cliché? A damsel in distress, perfectly staged for whatever was coming, for him?

After all those years, after all the other girls, that was too perfect or too much.

A draught made its way through the ajar window. She stopped her hand in mid-air and tried to resist sneezing but couldn’t. She turned to grab a tissue, revealing her face as she gently blew her nose. The sound was barely noticeable in the night. She was too delicate to be louder. Her nose was a masterpiece, the kind of feature that made someone unforgettable, like Cleopatra, Barbra Streisand, or even Nixon if he had been a woman. It was the kind of detail that stuck in your mind; at least, it stuck in J’s mind. It was glorious, pointy, and just a teeny bitty tiny shiny like a smooth rock. She had a nice face, not ugly at all, but her nose… It was hard to admit for J that her nose was probably at least half of the reason he was here tonight.

The room was basic in terms of furniture. Truly, it was a small room, so few pieces filled it immediately. An old and massive dark oak wardrobe next to her occupied most of it and served as background for her silhouette from J’s point of view. Her dressing table could have belonged to a movie star. There were so many products on it that J doubted more than a tenth of them could even be useful. If she truly used all of them at once, she would look like a clown. She looked so natural most of the time that it shocked J to see all the products she used.

The last major piece of furniture visible was a queen-size bed, half-covered by a white faux-fur throw. Through the window, the bedroom was like one of those you find in magazines, minus the floating price tags.

At least it seemed like that, as much as J could see. He was on the other side of the road and the night was pitch-black. But the light of the dressing table turned the room into a TV screen in the dark. A lonely house in a peaceful suburb was ideal for all of this. But the wait? That was boring.  The minutes transformed into hours quite rapidly. J knew it, he knew the struggle. It was necessary to not be seen. He could see her, but to the rest of the world he was just a shadow among shadows. J was not even a person anymore, no one,parked nowhere, doing nothing, but waiting. He couldn’t even play on his phone to pass time. The light of the screen would have revealed he was here. But no one was here waiting, nothing was here. Just a dumb car. It wasn’t even an uncomfortable or cold car either. He didn’t have a good reason to be grumpy about the car itself. He was in a pretty modern SUV to blend in those fancy suburb areas. He just had to wait, wait for the right time. J had to sit without any possible activity other than lose himself in his thoughts or look at her from too far away.

J had followed when she left the office at 7, to go to the gym. J had waited there for the first time. In daylight, at least he was able to read. Then around 9, as planned, she had left the gym, and J had followed her driving slowly from far enough to not be spotted. He knew how fast she would walk after her workout. He knew she was still able to run if there was a risk, and even to punch hard. But no one would be stupid enough to strike at that kind of moment, too many people, too many ways to escape. She was a perfect prey and the perfect predator only strikes once, at the perfect moment. And what better moment than when she felt safe in her own bed?

J scratched the side of his seat, feeling dirt under his fingers. There was more under his boots. He must have picked it up earlier while checking the house. Doubt crept in. His footprints could make all of this fail in a split second. Big man’s bootprints near the house of a single strong independent lady could betray him and alert on his presence. He clenched his teeth. The dentist told him to stop that. He could feel in the morning that he had done it when he was asleep. He shouldn’t eat too late, nor do it consciously. It was overworking his temporomandibular joints, the doctor said. Reducing stress wasn’t on tonight’s agenda. But thinking about it, she didn’t seem to worry about any footprints so he was probably safe. Plus, even single women can have discreet visits from companions. It would not be that much of a problem, would it? It would not matter in a moment. It was nearly midnight.

J looked away from the window. His eyes took longer than he would have liked to adjust to the dark again. He closed them just a second to readapt. He reopened them immediately. The fear of falling asleep caught him so fast, so hard, that it shook him. He scanned the car, searching for something, anything, to focus on. There was nothing visible except his jacket on the backseat, and a pocket book in its pocket. He was going to have to move it. There was nothing visible. He opened the glove compartment. He closed it. The weapon was there. Clean, clear, easy to reach, hidden. He clenched his teeth again, then his fist to try to relax his jaw muscles. After all this time, after all those years, after all of this, the rush was still there. As soon as he held his gun he felt it, this extension of his capabilities. The weight alone was so much. The feeling of the metal in the palm of his hand that needed to be firm but relaxed. A gun had a meaning, a symbol, an impact. J knew he shouldn’t feel that way, that it wasn’t professional. There was nothing really exceptional, a lot of people thought or felt the same way, he knew that. He had to accept the rush. Anyway, J knew it would be there tonight.

J looked at his watch but could barely read it. It was around midnight. He tried to catch any kind of light but not even the moon shone bright enough tonight. He managed to guess the minute hand somewhere just before 12. Only a few more minutes, a few stupid minutes. J waited. J was a dumb surname but it was not his choice. They had named him like that, they… It was time. A shadow projected by the dressing table illumination announced it. Then she slid in her sheets and turned the light off. It was time. He saw it.

J opened the glove compartment, grabbed his firearm, and got out without even thinking about closing anything. The weight, the coldness of the metal in his hands, there, he felt it. J rushed. His breath was shallow, his movements clumsy, but in his head his senses were at their peak. The sounds of the night were replaced by a deep silence. J focused. He had to hear every sound in her house while staying as quiet as the wind. His heart beat fast, pumping through his ears. The front door was locked, good. He moved to the side. He was still approaching the garden when he noticed an open window. It was wide open; anybody could easily slip through. J jumped in without releasing his hold on what was now an extension of himself. He made no more noise than a cat. She couldn’t have heard him. Inside was even darker. It took his eyes a few more seconds to adapt. One to three seconds, max, that was all it took, but it was already too much. J noticed a silhouette; the silhouette had noticed him even before that.

J aimed at the monster. He tried. In one move, his opponent punched the weapon that flew away before J was able to shoot, and he managed to cut his hand deeply. He had a knife or something similar. He was fast. He was big. He was here to kill. J punched where he thought the head would be but only managed to hit a shoulder. It was a monster, a tall one. Anyway, it was still a decent punch, the sound of the knife falling on the floor confirmed it. J targeted his opponent’s legs, forcing the monster to drop to one knee. J could now aim for the head. But too late, again. With a single move, the monster had J in a crushing grip. J gasped. He could barely breathe, barely move. J used one of the most primal ways he could figure out to escape. A headbutt, the most instinctive one he’d ever delivered in his life. There was a painful roar. He was free and able to breathe again. In the dark, he had lost his opponent. J hadn’t expected that. But in that brief moment, as he slammed his head forward, he felt it. This son of a bitch had night-vision goggles. He was strong, fast, and prepared. J was in deep shit. He couldn’t see anything, and this monster knew it. A sound behind him. The bastard grabbed J’s gun.

“J, duck!”

J dropped on the floor. The surprise light blinded him painfully, but judging by the growl of the monster, he wasn’t the only one.

Two shots and a fall later it was over.

She had saved him here, even though it should have been the other way around. J got up still recovering from his blindness. At least now that she had switched the light on in the kitchen, J was able to have a look at the monster they had been chasing for years. A massive guy, ugly as hell, dressed in denim overalls, dead. Could he be any more of a serial killer cliché? He was massive, J would’ve never picked a fight with a thing like that knowingly.

“I told the captain I didn’t need protection,” she grumbled as she put her weapon down.

“You know him,” J articulated, still recovering his breath.

“I know you, and I would have expected better from you,” she complained. “You were the one that taught me to not leave any traces, like a big footprint in the middle of my flowers. You should have warned me, at least you could have waited here.”

J realized he hadn’t been as discreet as he thought. But she knew how to act, she was one of them after all. He wasn’t sure if he should have been proud of his teaching skills, because she had noticed, or worried about his bad performance, because she had noticed.

“The rest of the team will be here in a minute,” J informed.

“I hope so dumbass!” she screamed, passing her hand in her perfect hair.

The seconds dragged by, each tick of the kitchen clock pounding in his ears. She took deep breaths, trying to steady herself. J suddenly noticed what she was wearing, and quickly looked away. He strangely felt like an embarrassed teenager.

“Sorry, J but I just shot a guy who came to kill me.”

“I know. For a second, I thought you were going to shoot me.”

“I’m not that stupid. Plus, you still owe me twenty bucks, and a burger. And for that, you better believe I’ll be stalking you!”