Contractual Rendezvous

She looks at him then, her face a twist of need, horror, and regret partially hidden behind a curtain of long platinum blonde hair. Her mascara has smudged leaving dark raccoon circles below her gray-green eyes. Her lipstick had rubbed off long ago leaving a rim of liner only giving her face a trashed, clownish, drug-binge sort of look that was far from reality.

She sits back with her legs tucked under her on the jacket he had thrown haphazardly on the ground earlier. The moonlight is at her back shrouding her face in a cloak of shadows, and she lets out a long, loud sigh of contentment.

“Things just got complicated, Finch.”

He sits up straighter fussing with his clothes in the process, his hair rumpled. He smiles at her—mostly a smirk—and tucks the pale curtain of hair behind her ear. “I suppose they did, Jana. I suppose they did.” He pauses looking at her with a little gleam in his eyes. “I cant say I regret it though.”

“You don’t have to regret it to know that we can’t keep doing this.”

“Why can’t we?”

“Eventually, Im pretty sure we’d get caught.”

“Says who?”

“Says…I don’t know, science? Math? Statistically speaking, Im pretty sure we’d get caught and then we’re royally screwed. No pun intended.”

“You cant live a life based on fear and maybes.”

“But I cant live a life running from the truth either. On running from anything. And isn’t that what we’d be doing as long as we keep this up?” She fidgets, biting her bottom lip nervously and cracking her knuckles.

“Could be,“ he half says, half sighs. His face shows none of the concern that hers does, but she has a feeling that’s about to change.

She scoots into him letting their legs touch one another as she sits by his side stretching out, the two of them leaned against the same tree. He takes her hand in his, his thumb caressing her in light circles while they sit in silence starring up at the stars. Metaphorical butterflies dance and flutter sending radiating tingles throughout her entire body from center to fingertips, from her toes to the top of her head. She wants him, this, them, the whole shebang even if she realizes that she’s dangling from a cliff with the entire situation poised above her, a shadowy cloaked figure with red eyes, threatening to pry her fingers loose one by one to fall to her death.

She was supposed to kill him. He doesn’t know that though. Not yet.

“Finch?”

“yeah?”

“I have something I have to tell you… It’s not pretty.”

“Jana, I don’t care if you used to be a man.” He grins at her devilishly which only makes the butterflies swirl harder and faster.

She slaps him playfully on the arm, but she can’t avoid this conversation with defensive jokes or wrestling around that leads to more sex, so she straightens up with full intent on spilling the truth. Her eyes meet his wiping the smile away when he sees she’s serious, biting her lip again with tears in her eyes. The words ball in her throat forming a lump that won’t budge. Her heart is pounding, sweat forms on her upper lip, and she can tell by the sudden heat that her skin has darkened to a deep shade of red.

He moves away a little and takes both her hands in his. “Whatever it is, I’m here. We’ll get through this. Just tell me.”

“I…we weren’t supposed to have sex out here tonight.”

“Well, you work for my wife, so that is pretty much a given, Jana.”

“She hired me to kill you.” She blurts it out before she has a chance to rethink it, to change her mind or chicken out.

He drops her hands like they burned him, his face contorting into something unrecognizable, his mouth opening and closing like a fish gasping for air because the words won’t come for him. He moves away fast, jumping up, and taking a few steps backwards towards his car. “Jana…what. the. literal. fuck. Are you fucking with me?”

She stands then adjusting the hem of the knee-length black dress she’s wearing before crossing her arms over her chest in a defensive gesture almost hugging herself. “I wish I was, but Im not. Im not a congressional aid. I didn’t go to Stanford . I didn’t graduate summa cum laude. In fact, I never went to college at all. I went into the army for a while then went AWOL and found work as a mercernary and contract killer because Im good at what I do. I’ve done a lot of jobs for the government which is how your wife got my name.”

“Are you… now? Still? Why are you telling me this?” He’s visibly shaking, eyes white with fear but a look of utter disbelief is still plastered across his face.

“No. Not now. Never. I mean, I can’t. None of this was supposed to happen, Finch. She told me to get close to you…said you like to screw around, she knows it, and she knows it is going to tank her political career if you keep it up and get caught. You already have the tabloids sniffing around every few months. She wants you out of the picture. She said…well…she thought that your death would be good publicity, that it would garner a lot of public sympathy and support. It was supposed to look like a random mugging or carjacking. Something tragic.”

“Jesus Christ…I never thought...how could she just get rid of me that easy, that coldly? We have kids together!” He stands there nearly expressionless searching her face looking for some hint that this was all some elaborate lie or scheme but finding nothing to reassure him.

“She loves her career more than anything else in the world. She made that very clear, Finch. I don’t know what else to say.”

He hides behind his hands for a moment then rubs his face before staring up at the moon. His body is incredibly tense. Even in the shadows she can see the way his outline is hardened. Over the past few weeks, she had gotten used to seeing a softer posture, not hunched necessarily but relaxed, chilled. There’s no sign of that man tonight.

“Why not now?”

“what?”

“Oh come off it. You know what the fuck I mean, Jana. You said you can’t now. Can’t…can’t kill me. Why not if that’s your job?”

“I like you, Finch. It was never supposed to get this far. I have never crossed this line before in my entire career. I don’t know. I can’t explain it.”

They stand there, motionless, gauging one another. All she wants is to go to him, pull him close, reassure him, but for him, everything about her is a lie. She knows it, and she knows after this she will probably never see him again. This isn’t some fairy tale where the two of them can run off together and live happily ever after having sex 5 nights a week, cooking dinner together, and raising babies.

“Let’s go somewhere and talk some more, Jana. I’m tired. Hot. I need a shower and some time to sit and think. “

She nods and follows him to his Lexus. The two of them climb in the car, but he sits, hands on the steering wheel lost in thought.

“Finch?”

The sound of her voice seems to bring him out of his daze. He reaches under the seat then bringing out a pistol that he points at her. “Sorry, Jana. Get out.”

She stutters as he waves the gun wildly in her direction but does as she asks.

Once the two of them are out of the vehicle again, he closes the distance between them, chambers a round. “Looks like I’m going to have to have a long, painful talk with my wife.”

Jana hits the ground before she even realizes what’s happened. The moon looks awfully peaceful tonight she thinks just before she closes her eyes.

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Sunday Confessions day today! The prompt was complicated, and I'd have to say that Jana and Finch's situation was way more complicated than I hope my life ever gets. Hope you enjoy it. Thanks for reading and be sure to check out the other confessions with More Than Cheese and Beer