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Rated: 18+ · Other · Action/Adventure · #1784605
Guile finds his girlfriend is pregnant and makes plans to make her safe.
Guile stumbled into the living room, catching his reflection in the mirror. His blonde hair was as organized as a mop. Making his way to his chair, he pressed a button on the answering machine. A stiff coldness ran up his spine as his bare back touched the black leather.
“Two new messages,” the robotic voice told him.
“First new message.”
“Yo man, our latest deal isn’t going to go ahead. Call back for details.”
The voice of the man on the other side was rough. Out of all the members of Guile’s elite team, he preferred Kirk to phone with news because of his attitude towards the job and his straight to the point manner.
“Second new message.”
“Pick up. Please pick up,” Guile recognized the distressed voice instantly as Kirsty Kilgour, his girlfriend. Her message consisted of many “ums”, “ahs” and pauses before getting to the point of the message. “There’s no easy way to say this, but ….. I’m pregnant. Please call me back.”
“End of final message.”

Guile’s fingers lingered above the cordless phone for a moment before he grasped it and hit a speed dial number. It rang for a while.
“About time you called,” came the rough voice of Kirk “Guess you want the low down on what happened, ey dawg?”
“What you think?”
“Ok, chill man. Look, the Russians can’t give us the money and like you said, we don’t work for peanuts.” There was a hint of gladness in his voice, yet Guile could tell he was being truthful.
“Ok mate, thanks, but keep me posted.”
“Sure thing brother,” And with that he was gone.

Guile hung up and, caressing the five o’clock shadow on his chin, he sighed then phoned Kirsty. The phone rang once before she picked it up.
“Guile?” she asked
“Honey calm down. Take deep breaths and sit down,” his tone was soft and reassuring.

He could hear Kirsty doing as he’d asked before she continued to speak.
“Do you remember when I said I wasn’t feeling myself? Well…”
Guile was shaken by her suddenness and made a snap decision.
“I’m coming over and I’ll be there in thirty minutes,” he told her.
“What?” she mumbled. “But I need rest and it’s so early can’t we….” She trailed off; it was too late, the line was dead. Somehow she knew she wasn’t going to like this.

Twenty-nine minutes later, Kirsty sat in her kitchen nursing a cup of tea. Opposite her sat another cup of tea and she had left the front door open. Her hand gently touched her belly where her baby was growing. At barely seventeen, she knew she was much too young to care for a child.

Guile stood in the doorway. She had not heard him enter the room. She tried her best to smile but knew she could not pull it off; she turned to look at the man she had chosen to love standing there in the doorway in his dark blue trench coat. He looked both charismatic and threatening.

“Come sit down,” she whispered to him,
“Are you alright?” his face full of concern.
She nodded her head in acknowledgement as Guile sat down, trying to get comfortable. “Who else knows?”
Lifting the cup to her mouth Kirsty shook her head.
“Just us.”
“Good. Get dressed, we’re leaving.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” her tone full of authority.
“Yes we are. We’re leaving the country tomorrow.”
“Who made you the boss of me?”
“You did when you told me you’re pregnant with my child,” he replied.

Kirsty took a few breaths.
“So where are you planning to take us?”
“We’ll live with my parents.”
Kirsty looked frustrated “I haven’t even met your parents and we’ll just turn up at their door step and explain everything? I’m sure they’ll understand.”
Guile’s fist pounded the table so hard it threatened to collapse.
“It’ll get a damn sight more attention and affection there than it will here!”
Kirsty threw her arms in the air. “So this is what it’s all about. Sometimes you’re like a vinyl record, same subject all the time. My father doesn’t like you, big deal, this will change him,” she rubbed her stomach lovingly.
“It won’t Kirsty. Your father’s pissed at me for something I cannot help. It isn’t my fault my father owns a computer company that is doing better business than the one your dad owns.”
It was Kirsty’s turn to hit the table.
“My father has every right to be pissed, that computer company was put in place over twenty years ago and he had to work his way from the bottom up when suddenly your dad arrives, doesn’t work half as hard and runs off with the best customers and the most money!” Kirsty’s face turned to a frown. “And it’s just about the money, you know that! It’s about family, since my mother died my dad has been lonely, an echo of the man he once was. I can’t leave him.”

Guile raised his hand to stop her from talking.
“You may be able to withstand his beatings but the kid won’t.”
Kirsty leaned towards him, their faces mere centimeters away from each other.
“I’ve told you once and I’ll tell you again,” she whispered.
“My father has never raised a hand to me. He has never hurt a hair on my head or even breathed hard on my skin.”
Guile gently brushed Kirsty’s hair back from her face revealing large blue marks on her

Guile’s face was mournful, as Kirsty had been so adamant that she was not being beaten, and yet the truth was right there in front of him. He froze for a while before swiftly moving out of the chair and heading for the door. “I need my father,” Kirsty yelled, grabbing Guile’s elbow. He gave her a sinister look, then pulled away. Kirsty fell to the kitchen floor.

Guile looked at her lying on the floor, he could see her pale colored skin, midnight hair and deep blue eyes; these looks alone could seduce a man. Gathering his thoughts, Guile glanced at his watch. It was two in the morning and time, as always, was running out.
“Look Kirsty, it’s my way or no way,” he told her softly before walking to the door.
“I love you but I also love my father,” she squeaked, “And I cannot raise this baby on my own.”
Guile half turned as if to face her, “Then you know what to do,” and with that he walked out into the dark streets while Kirsty lay weeping.

Some thirty minutes later, Guile made a call on his mobile phone.
“I’m retiring,” he said to his friend on the other side of the line.
“That would put Kirk in charge?” a strong matter of fact voice.
Guile didn’t reply.
“Business or pleasure?” the man on the line asked him.
“Personal,” he paused for a second then added, “Kirsty is pregnant. I’m going to be a father and in our line of business you can’t be a family man, it just doesn’t work.”
“Well as touching as that is son, I know you wanted that sick fuck.”
“I still want him.”
“Then me and the boys will do it for free. Call it a farewell gift.”
Guile was silent for a moment.
“No, just me and you, a two man mission.”
“Alright, I’ll prepare.”

At six that morning, just as the sun was ready to come up, Ken Kilgour was sitting at his computer in his oversized office. He was always working night and day no matter what the hour. His appearance said middle aged; save for the grey sideburns of his hair .The monitor uploaded the new figures in bar chart mode. Ken let a smirk appear on his face as he poured himself a brandy and sat at his desk. “You got them, oh you got them,” he thought to himself, thinking of how this new information he had acquired would ruin the company he worked so hard to make a driving force in their field. He laughed, the amount of people that would have to let go in the coming days, and what they would offer him not to release it. Ken had found that the owner of his company had been secretly funding the mafia with money if they would do some “jobs” for him. Not only that, but most of the senior partners of the company, not including him, was in on it. By blackmailing them he’d never have to work again. Things were looking up, even if it seemed that “Aptec”, the computer company that Guile’s father owns, were beating them to a pulp. Ken glanced down, surprised to find his glass empty. Strolling over to a dresser near the door at the other end of his office Ken held in his sight a wooden box with golden locks. He knew that inside was his grandfathers silver magnum. Six bullets on display. Six already in the chamber.

Ken paced back to his desk, it had been an eventful morning for him, he had uncovered a serious secret and had no choice but to punish everyone involved in it.
His thinking was shattered when the window next to his desk exploded. An array of bullets plugged holes in his desk. Fearing for his life, he tried to run towards the dresser for his gun, but realized he had no feeling in his legs as he collapsed to the floor. Ken started crawling towards the dresser until his nose was indented back into his face by a large black object. Feeling groggy, Ken turned over and, gaining back his focus, he saw a shotgun in his face, Guile at the helm.
“Guile you son of a bitch! I’ll see you in hell!”
“Yeah.” And with that Guile pulled the trigger.

Guile stumbled into the darkness of his living room. Moving toward the answering machine, he hit the button before stumbling off again to a nearby cabinet.

“One new message,” The answering machine told him as he grabbed the bottle on the cabinet and poured himself a whiskey. Lying next to the bottle was Guile’s gun of choice, a black desert eagle. After retiring two days ago, Guile had found no use for it; it just sat there, like a relic of a past time. The message was from Kirsty. He hadn’t spoken to her since the day she told him about the baby. Guile abruptly dropped the glass on the floor, but not because of any of Kirsty’s words in the message. It was because a surge of heat had just entered his shoulder. His body smashed into the cabinet, all of its items ending up on the floor next to him. She looked at him, the James Bond wannabe, cursing him for the murder of her father. Kirsty fired another shot, this time grazing his knee. Guile lay still, the pain of his knee making him roll onto his side. Guile franticly searched for his gun. A bullet hit the wall inches from his head. Knowing time was short, he brought his free hand up to rest on the palm of his gun hand and fired several times until he was satisfied that she was dead.

Breathing heavily, he focused his eyes on where he hoped to find her corpse; she was lying against the wall, with her unseeing eyes still open. Kirsty’s message had been lost in the gunfight but the end came to him fresh.
“I realise it’s probably over now, but please remember I love you and always will.”
Guile crawled over to the phone and dialed a number.
“What up?” it was Kirk.
“I’m coming out of retirement,” Guile croaked.
“Will you be applying for your old position?”
“Don’t make me hurt you.”
“Wow chill dog. One question though. Why you coming back?”
Guile struggled to get the words out.
“I just shot Kirsty Kilgour dead in my house.”
“Shit man, I’m sending the boys round to clean it up.”
“Yeah,” Guile said. Hanging the phone up, he then closed his eyes and waited for the cavalry to arrive.
© Copyright 2011 Adam Stevenson (adam_s at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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