The Innocents by Nathan Senthil (autobiographies to read .TXT) 📕

The bullet penetrated Jake’s hands, then his nose, and ripped the brain stem along the way, before exiting through the back of his neck. A goop of viscera ejected and splattered on the wall, then blood squirted.

Leo and Ryatt made a speedy escape, climbed into the car which rocketed forward even before the doors were completely shut.

“What the hell?!” Thomas asked. “You killed Jake?”

“That pig killed Jake,” Ryatt replied and explained everything to Thomas. “Heard something about wrong place wrong time?”

“Yeah?”

“Well, we were in the right place at the right time. We wouldn’t have known about any of this if we came, say like ten minutes later.” Ryatt paused. “What’s the take here?”

“What?” Thomas said.

“Something is giving us a chance. We’re never gonna make a blunder like this again.”

“I agree,” Thomas said.

“Meaning, no more involving second parties.”

Thomas sighed. “So it’s me back to stealing cars.”

“We’re safe that way.”

“Safe?” Thomas scoffed. “This detective looks desperate and acts desperate. Those obsessive types are always a problem, Ry. What’re we gonna do about it?”

“What we always do with our problems.” Ryatt traced his finger along the barrel of the gun, its tip still warm. “We deal with it.”

Chapter 15

November 25, 1994. 02:14 A.M.

The Hummer parked across from a two-story building in Staten Island. The house had once been painted, and the wood underneath was chipped on more than a dozen spots. The lawn could use a mow, the roof a few shingles.

A lush tree guarding the front partially blocked the streetlamp, so the right side of the property was dark. However, a lone rectangular light fell onto the shadow of the tree. A window. They had also discovered tendrils on that portion, which was going to be Ryatt’s key into the house. The pig’s Crown Vic standing on the gravel driveway had two flats, thanks to Leo’s army knife.

Ryatt pocketed a lollipop and opened the door.

“I’m gonna slip in through the upstairs window on the right-side wall. When I’m in, I’ll whistle. Then you,” Ryatt pointed at Leo, “come through the front. Thomas will start the Hummer and keep it ready.”

“What if someone else is also in there?” Thomas asked.

“Collateral.” Ryatt exited the car and pressed the door shut noiselessly.

As he crossed the road, he scanned the vicinity and found that the street was quiet. Not missing the opportunity, he crouched and snuck under the tree’s shadow. Like he’d guessed, the rectangular light falling onto the side came from the window on the second floor.

However, Ryatt spotted another window on the lower level that they hadn’t detected in their hasty recon. He quickly dashed from the safety of the shadows and dived below the opening. No light emanated from within, but he picked up voices.

A loud argument.

He craned his head a few centimeters and peeped into the window. It appeared to be a storeroom. Its door hung open and Ryatt could see the well-lit living room on the other side.

The man whom Ryatt knew as Detective Joshua Chase was sitting on a couch. Elbows on his thighs, his head hung low and shoulders slumped.

In front of the detective was a svelte woman, marching right to left and vice versa as she yelled, “… what kind of a man misses the Thanksgiving dinner with his in-laws to go after some bank robber?”

Ryatt felt naughty and pleased. They were talking about him, while he was tucked in the darkness beyond their window, eavesdropping.

“I’m sorry,” the pig said.

“Sorry?” the woman’s voice rose a notch. “This is how it has been for months. I can’t…” She sighed. “I don’t think I even love you anymore.”

“Come on.” The pig looked up and grabbed the woman’s elbow. “Don’t say that.”

She yanked out of his clasp. “Now that I think about it, I don’t even know how I ever loved your pathetic ass.”

Ryatt winced.

“What should I do? Just tell me. I’m ready to give you anything you want.”

“A goddamn divorce.” She spat.

The pig stared at his wife, his lips quivering. Finally he put his head down and muttered, “Fine.”

“Look at me when I’m speaking to you, not at your fucking shoes.” The woman swung her hand, and the slap landed with a heavy thwack.

Ryatt winced again. True, he was here to end the man, but he couldn’t help but feel a little sorry for him. However, the pig sat without any movement whatsoever. As if he had not been hit on his ear by his wife.

“React, goddamn it!” the woman shouted. But her voice wasn’t domineering anymore. It sounded grainy, as if she was on the verge of crying.

It looked like the pig picked up on that, too. He heaved himself to his feet and walked towards the woman.

“Don’t you dare come near… don’t you touch me, you piece of…”

The pig wrapped his arms around the woman. She tried to push him away, but she really wasn’t putting any muscle into it. Then she broke into a cry.

“I love you,” the pig said. “I’m so sorry for hurting you.”

The woman, now bawling like a kid, clasped his collar. “Please leave this job.”

The pig eased up, took her by the shoulders, and looked into her eyes. “I really think it’s best if you leave me.”

The cry became hysterical as she once again buried her face into his chest. The pig caressed her head as she let it all out. Two full minutes had gone by, before the woman calmed.

She cupped his hands in hers and kissed it. “Do you think you can make this world a better place all by yourself?”

“I… I don’t,” the pig said, his voice trembling. “But I can’t stand idly by when bad people make this world worse for everyone else.”

Ryatt frowned and something clicked in his