Chapter 7

Without any words, we both let our weapons fall and catch our breath. Isabella loosened her grip and lay down next to me.  

For a moment, we both had escaped death because of a baby’s cry.

“Saved by an angel’s cry,” Isabella murmured. She got up first and dusted off her clothes clean before extending a hand toward me. “I guess we have to call this another draw.”

I looked at her, searching for any little tricks she had on her sleeves. When I found nothing, except how her eyes now softened out of concern, I finally accepted her hand and let her pull me out of my feet.

The cries turned from desperation to fragile whimpers as we went to my doorstep. All those wailing probably made the baby tired and dehydrated. There, a baby wrapped in a pink, thick blanket just lying there alone. 

Isabella was the first one to move. She crouched down and gently lifted the baby up. 

“Who would leave a baby in that state?” I broke the silence. The baby finally calmed down as Isabella rocked her in her arms. 

“Is this… your child?” Isabella carefully asked. 

The absurdity made me choke out a laugh. “What?”

She shrugged as if pointing out the obvious. “A baby in the middle of the night, right outside your doorstep. What am I supposed to think?”

I remained silent. My apartment sat at the edge of the main city with no neighbors. I requested this specifically to the handler when I had to move to another place. This only means that nobody passes by here unless they intended to.  

“I didn’t know that a mafia would dodge parenthood.” She mocked, still rocking the baby to sleep. “I thought you only dodge bullets and blades.”

“Oh don’t get ahead of yourself, you little assassin. I haven’t even…” I shot her a glare, heavily sighing, debating whether I should continue or not.  “I haven’t even had sex for like what?! A year or two?” I chose to continue. 

That finally shut her up. Until she decided to be a bitch and laughed so loud that the baby she’s carrying shook violently. 

I went to the keypad of my apartment and let the machine analyze my eyes and face for recognition. Once it beeped green, I moved aside to let Isabella enter with the baby. 

“That explains your dry and anti–social attitude.” Her lips still curved in a playful smile. “I wonder how your men would react to this little secret of yours.”

I rubbed my face with both hands in frustration, fighting the urge to shove my gun on her throat. “Shut up or else, I’ll make sure you won’t be able to utter any words.”

My apartment isn't anything special. As soon as you walk in, you'll notice the living room, which has a single television and a one-seat couch. To the left is the kitchen. If you go straight ahead, you'll find the door to the bathroom and my bedroom.

Isabella laid the baby down on the couch. I came closer to take a good look at the baby’s face. Her cheeks were round, pink, almost glowing under the dim light of my lamp while her fists kept opening and closing like it was trying to grab hold of something in her sleep.

“What the hell are we su—”

My words got interrupted by a loud gun shot from outside. I sprinted towards the window as instinct kicked in. 

“Are those your men?” I asked Isabella who checked almost the same time as me.

“None of whom I recognized.”

They fired another gunshot. The baby wiggled on the couch but didn’t wake. We wasted no time and opened the door. My hand shot for my gun at the same time Isabella’s daggers flashed back into her grip.

We both slowly walked side-by-side until we made sure we had enough distance to fight them without waking up the baby.

“We know that child is in there! Hand it over, and no one gets hurt!” A thug with his stomach sticking out barked and raised his baseball bat. He stood in front of the crowd so I’m assuming he’s the leader of the gang.

Like hell I was about to hand over a baby to some street rats who didn’t even know how to knock.

Beside him, is a guy with long blonde hair holding a starting pistol. He must be the one who made those sounds  a while ago. Based on my calculation, there are at least twenty of them ganging up on us, each with weapons on hand.

I grinned.  So there’s no real gun, huh?

Isabella played with her dagger as she looked at me with her playful smile. “What do you want me to do, mafia? Do I stick around as an audience or sidekick?”

So laidback for a lady. “Knock it off and fight, assassin. Or you’ll be next after them.” I hissed.

Her smile only widened and  flipped the dagger in her grip, ready. “Nice choice.”

I stole a quick glance at my perfectly mowed lawn. I always made sure that I trimmed all those overgrown grass and eliminated weeds every week. No trash in sight, just healthy and green grass. 

But it looks like my lawn is about to be painted red tonight.

On their leader’s command, every last one of them charged.

Isabella glanced at me. I glanced back.

We nodded once, adrenaline both rushing on our body. 

If death was what they craved, they came to the perfect monsters.