The Hit

By J.F. Glass

After crossing a hit man, Ben Wallace and his wife Yolanda are terrorized and must fight for their lives. This is an 8,400 word short story.

• Language: English
• Publisher: J.F. Glass
• Release date: Sep 13, 2013
• ISBN: 9781497794016

Book preview

Ben Wallace drummed his fingers on the plastic table. He stared into the coffee cup, watched as the cream swirled to mix with the strong black liquid. He only looked up from his mug when the bell over the coffee shop door jingled.

He hated waiting. Turned his stomach into knots, gave him heart burn. He hadn't bothered to take a sip. He figured the coffee had turned cold by now. Maybe this Turner guy had second thoughts; he'd only talked to him one time over the phone. A disposable cell phone, of course, he'd thought that far ahead at least.

Hadn't thought about what he would do if he didn't show. He'd have to find someone else. But the problem was if he kept talking to these guys he was bound to run into an undercover cop. No, he'd have to find some other way.

The door jingled and his heart jumped into his throat. He casually glanced up.

A man wearing a black leather jacket, a scruffy beard, and a beanie strolled in. The man made eye contact, and nodded.

Ben sank back against the booth, trying to look calm. He was anything but. He wiped his wet palms on his jeans. Part of him hoped this guy was here to change his mind. But deep down, he knew this was the only way, the only way to stop that bitch from ruining him.

Turner eased into the seat across the table.

How's it going? he asked in a gruff voice, a rhetorical question.

Well, she wants half.

That's a shame.

A waitress stopped with her book.

Just a decaf, Turner said, putting on a fake smile. Thanks.

He turned to Ben, his face dark. The smile gone. Ben felt a slight disturbance at how easy Turner pretended.

She said it was either half, of she'd take the kids, he lowered his voice at the last part. Her mother lives in Ireland. I'd never see them again.

What else? That can't be all.

Ben tried to swallow the lump in his throat. She has pictures... If they got out-

Turner held up his hand. Fair enough.

Ben's phone rang. Another client. He hated this time of year. Every client worried about being audited, another rich old man trying to squeeze a nickel out of his investment account.

The waitress brought a cup of coffee.

Thanks, doll, Turner said.

Half now, Ben shoved an envelope across the table. Half later.

Boy, you don't waste time.

He took the envelope and tucked it into his jacket pocket.