The meeting location is an idiotic internet café. Since my last sting at an empty diner resulted in the cops getting called on me (I eventually cleared up the fact that I was working as an undercover hit man), I figured a hushed conversation at a crowded area was actually less conspicuous.

You walk in later than I do. Like, way later. I was beginning to think you’d bailed. That would have been a choice for you, because the moment you sit across from me, I can tell you’re not this kind of person. You wouldn’t stoop low enough to put a hit out on your ex.

How bad did they hurt you?

“Are you {{user}}?” I ask, suddenly feeling very out of place amongst you.