Can I Tell You a Secret?

"Can I tell you a secret?"

Laura looked over at Tom, the blaze from the rapid-fire lighting the back of his head as he looked in the distance, waiting for an answer. "As long as it isn't as bad as the secret we just made."

Tom looked back at Laura, intently staring at her, how the light of the flames flickered over her face, illuminating her dark, ash-covered makeup.

"I think I'm in love with you."

There was silence after Tom's statement, only the crackling of the house behind them filling the quiet pause. Laura sighed deeply, as if to signify a great inconvenience, and began to walk towards their van. Tom watched her waltz away for a few seconds, before catching up to her. They continued to walk in silence, before both getting into the van; Tom in the driver's seat and Laura in the passenger's seat, as was usual. The silence carried through the van, with no flames to fill the void.

"Jesus Christ, can you start the car? I don't want to be here when the cops come, do you?" Laura snapped. Tom silently nodded and began the drive back to the safehouse. The silence was deafening until Laura piped up again, her usual melancholic and dry voice perfect for the occasion. "Well, that went well."

"I wouldn't say it went well."

"Oh? So what would you say?

"I would say we got lucky that I keep gasoline in the back of the van. 'Well' does not coincide with botching a murder and having to cover it up with arson."

"You've always been too pessimistic. The Governor is dead, we still get our money, and there's absolutely no way that they can track the death back to us. It's a best-case scenario, all things considered."

The van began to slow down, before coming to a stop. Tom stared straight ahead, eyes widening and his breathing becoming rougher.

 "I told you I loved you a moment ago and now you want to call me pessimistic? If anything, you're ignorant."

"I'm not the one who couldn't strangle a fifty-year-old correctly."

Tom turned his body to look at Laura in the passenger's seat. "He looked me in my eyes, Laura. I don't want to watch a man die."

Laura's eyes were on her nails, as she checked them over for blood, the way she nonchalantly talked about murder lighting irritation into Tom. "Then maybe you should have chosen a different profession."

"You're a sociopath."

This got Laura's attention, as her eyes darted up from her black and sharp nails, filling with anger and spite. "I'm a sociopath with the perfect job for my skills. You're a lost child who will do anything for the smallest amount of praise, and pack bond with broken murderers who can stomach the shit you can't. Who's worse in that scenario?"

There was no answer from Tom. Sirens could be heard in the background as he began to slowly drive again. Laura began to let her mind wander, thinking about every fight they had had. From the very beginning of their partnership, he had always complained. He had no place to go, their job was too brutal, he couldn't possibly hurt another human. She'd heard every single complaint he had made, even the ones that he had whispered under his breath. She couldn't count how many times she had thought about snapping his neck, the same way that he had failed to snap the Governers. He wasn't cut out for their work, and yet he never failed to try. She smiled slightly, wondering if he wasn't forced to kill if he would be someone she'd like to be around. Maybe if she didn't like killing so much, she'd be more likable. Finally, he spoke up.

"I'm sorry for calling you ignorant."

"Okay."

"It was rude of me to lash out at you. I'm scared. I know I'm in the wrong job. I know I made the wrong decisions. I don't want to hurt people. But I can't leave now, I'm in too deep and I took that out on you. I'm sorry."

Laura sighed and crawled into the back of the van. As she discreetly picked up the concealed can, and began to pour the remainder of the gasoline on the van floor, she thought back to when she met Tom. "You could have gone anywhere in the entire world after your family died, and yet, it was our doorstep that you showed up on."

"The sickest twist of fate I've ever encountered."

"You kill people, yes, but they're bad people who are getting in the way of good things."

"Knowing that that Governor got in the way of a new climate change deal doesn't change the pit in my stomach I felt the second his eyes met mine."

"You're rewarded with enough money to keep you comfortable for ten lifetimes."

"Money doesn't fix trauma."

Laura sighed and lit a cigarette. "But it can fund healing. I'm not quite sure what to say. Fate has given us each other and taken all that you cared to have. There's not much else I can say. Pull over at this gas station."

Tom nodded, following Laura's instructions. "I made the wrong decisions, and I destroyed the chances I had at being normal. It's not your fault and I lashed out."

"I understand, and you don't have to keep explaining." Laura crawled back to the front, lit cigarette in hand, and took the keys from the ignition. "I feel sorry for you."

With tears in his eyes, Tom watched Laura exit the van, and walk to the driver's side. He sat in the car, deflated. She smiled slightly, eyes screaming with pity as she locked the van with him inside, and looked at him through the crack in the window.

"I wish we could have met a different way. I wish I could have told you I loved you in a different way." He said, sadly reminiscing as if he knew what was to come next.

"It's okay," Laura said, taking one last drag of her cigarette, before throwing it through the crack in the window, to ignite the gasoline, to ignite a freedom Tom hadn't felt in years. "I love you too."