Please Kill Me

By Omar Alwareh

A crippling diagnosis.
An impossible decision.
At the end of the day, it all rests on one powerful force - LOVE
Robert seemingly has an abundance of everything … everything that counts anyway. A loving family, wealth, and great friends. What he doesn't have an abundance of is time. Faced with a terminal diagnosis, his only option for sparing his family and his dignity from a slow and painful collapse comes in the form of a retired hitman.
David's criminal days are over, but his family is suffering for it financially. When a man in an expensive suit offers him a job reminiscent of his past, he immediately dismisses it. But David soon realizes Robert is no ordinary man, and this is no ordinary kill. How far will Robert go to convince David to take the job? And how far will David go to prove he's a changed man?
Get caught up in Robert and David's tumultuous journey as they face the ultimate moral question.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Omar Alwareh
• Release date: May 25, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223206835

Book preview

ONE

Prophetic

Robert opened his eyes to see the familiar features of the man standing before him…was he the doctor in charge here?

And who is this woman sleeping on the chair next to me… her face looks familiar, yet I don’t remember her either.

Oh, yes. I know him but… my mind is confused… I assume he is a friend; still, he hasn’t come to make sure I was doing well, but he came for…

No. He has come because he decided to fulfill his promise…

I wish I could be granted a chance to say farewell to my beloveds, William, Cecille, and Katlyn… my sweetheart. I wish I could embrace them and shower them with my goodbye kisses… but I don’t feel myself able to speak… my tongue is paralyzed.

Why is he crying?

Why doesn’t he talk to me, to remind me of himself and what he is doing… I have a feeling he is a good man; why would he hurt me then?

I wonder whether this is the best that could be done… did I make the right decision?

Am I on my way to paradise?

Or…. I feel my heart beat pounding very fast; could I stop the whole matter now? Something within me gives me a feeling of confident happiness…

Yet… why are my eyes full of tears? My heartbeat soars faster… I feel I have moved to another place.

Then he woke up…

It was all a dream…

Robert opened his eyes and gradually turned his head towards the person sleeping beside him while the remains of his troubled dream kept roaming his mind.

The angelic face of his wife, Katlyn, calmed down the high rhythm of the atrocious beat. This face was the face of the woman whom he hadn’t recognized in his last nightmare.

At this point, he figured out his dream seemed almost comparable to a true prophecy and he got the feeling that he would soon destroy his earthly paradise.

TWO

A Matter of Dignity

Sweetheart, aren’t you going to at least take a bite before you leave?" Katlyn flipped another omelet on the pan and turned to look at Robert.

She barely reached his shoulders, but every part of her appeared in perfect proportion. Her recently cropped hair bobbed around when she turned to glance at him and the standard-sized cream apron dangled well below her knees. The short-sleeved yellow top with golden zigzag patterns exposed her toned arms as they moved across the stove.

With painstaking effort, he pulled his gaze away from the woman he adored. Despite the delicious aroma of his wife’s cooking, Robert gulped his coffee in one go and rushed towards the door.

I’m sorry, honey. I overslept and am already late for my appointment with a supplier. Then he managed a smile, hurriedly moved to kiss Katlyn’s cheek, and went for the door again.

Robert?

Yes, sweetie? Robert turned to his wife, his hand on the doorknob as he spoke, his lips rounded in a silent oh. Katlyn slowly closed the distance between them, holding out his gray attaché case in one hand and his dark blue coat in the other. Robert avoided eye contact as he reached for his things and turned to go.

The warmth of her palm as it touched his cheek brought his eyes to hers.

What’s wrong, sweetheart? Are you okay?

Robert had never lied to Katlyn, not even white ones. He always believed that lies were lies; there was nothing in between. But he couldn’t tell her about his dream or that he dreaded the various ways it now crept into his reality — routines forgotten, like the attaché case and coat. Robert freed his hands and wrapped his arms around Katlyn’s waist.

I’m just getting old, he whispered.

A half-truth but not a lie, he thought, consoling himself. And we’ll grow old together, my love.

I really need to go, sweetheart. Robert didn’t release Katlyn despite what he said. A huge part of him wanted to stay with her.

As he recalled the dream and how he had failed to recognize the woman who always made his heart beat faster throughout their more than two decades of marriage, the urge to forget about work became intense.

How’s your headache, by the way? She ran her fingertips in circular motions across his temples.

With that, his eyes rolled upward to indicate her massage, and two painkillers, I’m fit as a horse. Robert grinned although the excruciating pain had sent him home hours earlier than usual the day before. A remnant of that pain still lingered, but he decided Katlyn didn’t need to know.

You’ll see Kevin after work, right? Katlyn raised her eyebrows. She had already asked him to check in with their family doctor the night before when the painkillers didn’t work.

Honey, a simple headache isn’t something that I should bother Kevin about. Robert’s lip curled up with a teasing smile. He wanted to ease her worries. His recurring headaches had become harder to hide from his inquisitive wife.

A throbbing temple every other day isn’t simple, Robert. She might as well have stamped her feet. When she called him by his first name like that, it meant she wasn’t fooling around.

Would you take that cute frown off your face if I say yes? He touched his nose to hers and rubbed it in an Eskimo kiss.

This! This is what you’re good at. Always distracting me with your charm. Katlyn tried to sound reprimanding but failed.

What? I can’t help it if I’m charming, he kissed her forehead, and affectionate. Hurried footsteps down the winding staircase interrupted them.

Dad! Cecille, their eldest, nearly missed the last step. You won’t be late for dinner, will you?

Cecille looked like a younger replica of her mother, although she was a bit slimmer and sported a long mane of big, wavy curls that contrasted with Katlyn’s straight hair; but the two could have easily passed as twins if dressed identically.

And when did it start mattering to you if I appeared on time for dinner, hmm? The tender moments Robert had shared with his wife threw his melancholy off course and brought back his usual jolly nature.

With his coat casually thrown across his arm and his attaché case in hand, Robert rested his other arm over Katlyn’s shoulder. He knew — thankfully, he remembered — what had caused their daughter’s near-tumbling descent.

Come on, Dad. You do remember that it’s Friday and Mom invited Mike over for dinner, right? Even William flew home to see him. One stark difference between the two females was that Katlyn could be patient to a fault while Cecille had to have everything crystal clear at the onset.

Mike? Who’s Mike? Robert enjoyed the purse of Cecille’s lips when annoyed.

Mom! Cecille turned to Katlyn with an expression mixing frustration and pleading.

Your father will be home in time for dinner, baby. He is anxious to see Mike again. We all are. Right, Robert?

Yes, dear. He made his response sound like he was a low-ranking officer adhering to his superior.

Don’t ‘dear’ me. You’re not off the hook from our previous conversation until I see a prescription from Kevin. The adorable pout returned to Katlyn’s face.

Prescription? What for? Cecille asked.

Your mother is simply overreacting. He pulled Katlyn closer, although she pushed back with her hips. When he bumped back, Katlyn giggled.

Guys! I’m here? Cecille pointed at herself for emphasis. She never approved of her parents’ public displays of affection. So childish, she always said.

I’m sorry, honey. Your father … Katlyn still couldn’t stop her giggles because Robert kept bumping her back.

Katlyn, stop laughing. Your daughter is getting really angry. Robert faked a straight face, then cleared his throat. What were you saying again, sweetie?

Dinner? Mike? Old family friend, who we never ever get to see? Cecille rolled her eyes in annoyance.

Oh, yeah. Your mother is right. I’ll be home in time for dinner. When Katlyn turned to him with squinted eyes, he added, After I see Kevin.

I still have no idea what to make for dinner.

Robert thought her worries were too cute to ignore. So, he said, Weigh your options carefully, Katlyn. If you choose poorly, Mike may never forgive you.

Katlyn smacked him on the arm for his teasing and shoved him out the door.

As he walked to his vehicle, his thoughts turned dark. In Robert’s mind, his advice applied more to him than to Katlyn. He had weighed his options so frequently that his mental state felt fragile. No matter how he strained to seek alternative solutions, he always ended up with a singular resolution, one that he knew would devastate everyone he loved.

Once again, Robert’s spirits sank.

The GPS in Robert’s car displayed unfamiliar street names. Under normal circumstances, he would have worried since his memory lapses had been a constant problem for weeks. This drive, however, was a bit different. His secretary had scheduled a visit to one of his company’s biggest suppliers as his first stop for the day, and he’d never bothered to memorize the route.

A new manager had been hired and he needed to brush up on old contract arrangements and talk about new ones.

When the warehouse guard guided him to his usual parking space, Robert gave a candid salute before bringing his car to a halt near the building’s front entrance. The gutter that surrounded the warehouse shone bright with a fresh coat of yellow and black stripes, but the building appeared tired, as if it might crumble soon. Robert had brought this to the attention of his supplier several times in the past and, as he closed his car door after him, he reminded himself to bring it up again with the new manager. He had to pass through the production line to get to the manager’s office. Robert felt at home as familiar faces greeted him with the tip of a head or a small wave.

A man in gray overalls splattered with red and blue paint stains offered to shake his hand and then murmured a thank you as if he knew Robert as a friend.

Robert returned the shake and pretended to know what was going on but had no idea why the man thanked him.

Frustration dominated Robert’s thoughts after he broke their handshake and proceeded to a narrow strip of walkway with tall wooden crates for walls. A few steps away from the manager’s office, he looked back but couldn’t remember how they were acquainted or what he had done to earn the man’s thanks.

Robert! Come in, come in. Please have a seat. The young man, probably in his late twenties, didn’t even stand from his high-backed, black swivel chair. His slim physique and narrow shoulders made his chair look like an oversized throne for a skinny child.

Thank you. You must be … Patrick? Robert offered a hand, easily swallowing the young man’s fingers with his own. He took his coat off and let it hang on the armrest of the brown leather chair.

Yes, yes, Patrick. Can I offer you anything? Coffee … sandwich?

The aroma of Robert’s favorite brewed Kopi Luwak immediately filled the room. He couldn’t wrap his head around how his supplier maintained a very expensive coffee variety for the clients while the very source of the business’s income screamed for attention. He thought of the warehouse’s façade thirsting for major repair.

Your building, I noticed that it needs … some repairs. Robert paused so he wouldn’t sound condescending as he reached out for his cup with a slight bow to Ben, the man who had served Robert’s coffee for the past ten years. At least he remembered that.

In a blue-collared uniform seemingly a size smaller than his robust physique, Ben stood almost as tall as Robert, but Ben’s hairline receded far away from his forehead, and the wrinkles revealed by his smile placed him in his late fifties in Robert’s mind. The deep shadows surrounding Ben’s eyes reminded Robert that the old man used to work part-time jobs after office hours, and he wondered if, despite Ben’s near retirement, the man still labored to butter his bread.

Patrick’s voice brought Robert back to the present.

Yeah, the building … He had his hand in the air as if shoving a fly away. His voice boomed across the four walls of the newly painted office when he turned to Ben. You serve coffee with a tray, idiot.

But … Ben’s gentle voice was swallowed whole by Patrick’s rant, while he kept apologizing in the sad tone of a weak man who has to take anything to preserve his livelihood

Don’t give me stupid excuses, old man. Now, get out of my sight! Patrick’s voice trembled with so much unwarranted anger.

No, stay. Robert summoned every ounce of his patience not to reach out across the table and shake Patrick by his shoulders until the young man’s imaginary crown dropped. Like a movie reel playing in slow motion, Robert set down his coffee cup and stood. He’d been in this young man’s presence for less than a minute and already he knew the change in management wasn’t going to work for him or his company.

H towered over Patrick, who remained nailed to his chair like a child afraid to part with his favorite toy.

This old man, Robert repeated then put his arm across Ben’s shoulder, should sit on that chair. Robert flicked his head towards Patrick in emphasis before he continued. Do you know that he is capable of running this company with his eyes closed? But of course, he wasn’t one of the owner’s nephews, was he? Tell me, are you aware of how long you’ve been supplying for my company?

Ah … yes, about … ten years, according to, uhm, my uncle. Patrick rattled, clearly taken aback by Robert’s words.

Yes, ten long years, and this man you so casually insulted has been here longer. Yet, here he is, still faithfully serving coffee since the day I first set foot in this building. Patrick opened his mouth, but before the young man could say anything, Robert continued, I wouldn’t meddle with how your company supports the growth of your employees, but until you apologize to this respectable man, I am freezing all my transactions with you.

You can’t do that! I mean, we’ve been doing business for a very long time, and … and … Patrick shuffled through the stack of folders on his desk, a desk wide enough for Patrick to lie down on top if he wanted to

Your company may be our biggest supplier, but I don’t think I have to remind you that my company is your biggest client. Robert’s voice sounded calm, but it reverberated with authority. At that moment, he couldn’t help feeling the irony of Ben’s plight and his. The man who had served his coffee for ten years had his life frozen; he’s been close to everyone here, he’s well acquainted with the back stage of the administration, and he’s a smart guy for sure, plus he knows everything about the company.

I’m the manager. Why would I apologize to … him?! Patrick’s voice croaked in disbelief, and his eyes darted daggers toward Ben.

Very well, then. Mr. ….? Robert deliberately ignored the name. He wanted the young man to feel a semblance of unimportance. Robert knew it had worked when Patrick finally stood up from his almighty throne, a slight froth forming at the side of his lips when he spoke.

Patrick! I’m Patrick! His limp body slightly trembled.

Sorry … Patrick. I’ll advise my secretary to return the renewal contract then … unsigned. When Robert turned towards the door, Patrick exerted his last hurrah of power.

And, oh, you’re fired! Patrick screamed, pointing his finger toward Ben.

Oh, no, he’s not. He’ll be turning in his resignation. Robert surprised himself with how calm he sounded despite the burning sensation in his ears. He took a deep breath before he turned to Ben, who understandably suffered from shock. Ride with me? When Ben returned a blank stare, Robert added, It’s my turn to buy you coffee.

With a slight nudge, Robert guided Ben out the door without a glance back at the new manager.

He sighed, realizing he had fixated his personal frustrations on Patrick, going a bit overboard. Still, Ben deserved better working conditions than slaving away here.

Ben kept silent, head bowed, as they walked along the production line. Robert nodded to the workers who waved him goodbye, and questioning eyes followed them. With his arm across Ben’s shoulder, they passed the workers and walked through the wide warehouse door. They headed to the car and he waited until Ben got in on the passenger side, before sitting behind the wheel.

He could hear the engine hum while Ben remained silent. When he noticed a coffee shop sign, he immediately maneuvered to a vacant parking spot. He guided Ben to an outside table for two sheltered by a wide, square green umbrella.

Why don’t you stay here? I’ll go inside and order for us. Ben’s nod was so slight that Robert barely caught it. All the man could do was stare at his clasped hands. Robert understood Ben’s reaction. At almost sixty, a new job for him meant no chance at all. As Robert looked at the coffee shop menu board, his mind simultaneously searched for solutions. Then he smiled.

Here you go. Robert laid two tall cups of freshly brewed Caffé-Lungo, the go-to variety for his quick coffee fix. Since he took his coffee black, he pushed his share of sugar and cream toward Ben’s cup. Ben just wrapped his hands around the cup’s ribbed holder, as if trying to settle his trembling through its warmth.

Then he spoke: Robert, I … I will never … ever forget how you stood up for me in front of my new boss, but … Ben took his hands from his cup then and reached out across the table to grasp one of Robert’s as if desperately pleading to be saved from drowning in his emotions...

I know, Ben. You might think I acted … I don’t know … on an impulse … Robert put his other hand on top of Ben’s. No angle of the scenario at Patrick’s office justified the way he had basically taken Ben’s decisions away and imposed this status quo on his life.

Sir, my family depends on me. My son helps but … Ben squeezed Robert’s hands and his face grimaced with a gamut of emotions.

I’m sorry, I really am. But … Robert inched forward when he spoke.

At my age, I don’t think … Ben shook his head and then bowed it, nearly touching the table.

You won’t be unemployed.

Ben raised his head, his face radiating rays of hope after a tumultuous storm.

Robert pulled his hand from Ben’s grasp, realizing it felt a bit numb from the pressure. Why don’t you finish your coffee? That’s one of my favorites. A smile that reached his soul touched Robert’s lips as he watched Ben savor his coffee. After a few sips, Ben set his cup down and looked at Robert with eyes that pleaded for more clarity.

The building administrator owes me a favor and they have needed a janitor for some time. The work is difficult and the hours are long, so it has been hard to keep the position filled, but I know you can do the job far better than anyone else. I’ll put in a good word for you. The job will be yours before the weekend is out.

Oh, Robert. Thank you! Thank you! Ben leaned over the table to reach Robert’s arm but accidentally tipped the cup. Oh, I’m so sorry.

Robert chuckled. Not to worry. I’m just glad I could make this right. He held the cup in place and looked at Ben, whose grin made his face crinkle.

I better head home now, sir. Tell my wife about the good news. Uhm, should I come to your place tomorrow morning, sir?

Why don’t I drive you home?

Oh, no, sir. You don’t have to. Besides, I need to buy something for the wifey anyway. It’s her birthday, you know. Ben’s smile radiated brightly. The dark cloud that had hung over his head since they left Patrick’s office had cleared.

Oh. Wish her happy birthday for me. Robert reached out to shake Ben’s hand.

Will do, sir. Will do. Ben’s return handshake was filled with so much excitement that it jostled Robert’s whole arm.

And yes, do drop by my place tomorrow morning. Robert wrote down the address on a small piece of paper, which Ben put in his pocket. Robert nodded to acknowledge the latter’s frantic wave as the man walked towards the bus stop.

Once inside his car, he couldn’t shake off the warm feeling, which had nothing to do with the spilled coffee on his thigh. And it didn’t just come from Ben’s over-the-top gratitude. After he’d learned that his well-planned life would eventually shatter like glass, Robert had begun to develop a kind of happiness that didn’t depend on how the people he had helped acknowledged his effort. He found his bliss every time he made someone who was helpless, oppressed, or insulted feel better.

When Robert switched the car’s engine on, he recalled Ben’s plan to surprise his wife and thought of buying something for Katlyn as well. He also remembered what Katlyn wanted to see more than a gift — a prescription. He opened the car’s compartment drawer and reached to the very end. When his fingers touched a thick pad of paper, he pulled it out.

It had taken a lot of arguments before Kevin agreed to pre-sign the pad of blank prescriptions. For presentation purposes only, he had told Kevin, to ease his wife’s medical concerns. And, true to his promise, Robert never used the pad to self-medicate. He took the pen off the pocket of his coat that hung at the back of the car and scribbled the same generic pain reliever brand that Kevin had once prescribed before his health had descended into chaos.

Robert tore the sheet off, folded it in half, and slid the paper inside the right front pocket of his pants.

The drive back to the office dragged as traffic started to pick up. Robert felt the throbbing pain in his temples again and it quickly traveled to the back of his neck. He impatiently honked his way through the dense crowd of multi-colored cars until, finally, he saw the sloped driveway entrance of his office building. He snatched his coat off its hanger and slammed the door of his car. With hurried steps, he walked past the building guard with a very brief nod and headed for the elevator.

The descending number on the lift’s panel couldn’t have traveled more slowly. Robert frantically pressed the down arrow. Once the elevator door opened, he entered and pressed the Close Door button. Chance decided to toy with him as, hand after hand, the door kept on opening for demanding passengers trying to get in. After several stops, the elevator opened on his office’s floor.

Robert clucked his tongue when he realized his secretary wasn’t at her post, although the paper and folder stacks that cluttered her desk meant she had already come in. As he turned the knob to his office, the familiar, no-nonsense voice spoke.

Morning, Robert. Helen, who almost stood as tall as Robert, had manned the secretarial desk for only a few months. Her aunt, recently retired, had been his secretary since he’d started the business. While only in her early twenties, Robert didn’t regret that he had taken his former secretary’s recommendation and hired Helen.

Ah, good. Could you, uhm, make me a really strong coffee? Robert quickly entered his office after his request.

Of course. I’d just …

No! He immediately turned around, his hand at the door’s frame, and about half his body went out again. I mean, please, drop everything. Coffee first. He mellowed his voice when he noticed Helen jerk in surprise.

Sure, Robert … Helen put down the folders in her arms and headed for the pantry, but not without a glance back at him. It was the first time he had ever raised his voice at her.

A sigh escaped Robert’s lips when he closed the door, making a great effort not to slam it. Then he rushed to his desk, sat on his executive chair, and pulled the right drawer open with force. He rummaged until he found the medicine bottle that Kevin had recently prescribed, as opposed to the generic brand