Jim stands under the torn awning in front of a sleazy hotel, listening to the rain and the buzzing of a neon sign. He’s wet and cold, and pissed as hell. He pulls his coat tighter around him and shivers, and growls at Tyler, who’s late again.
He looks up as a cab approaches. It stops by the curb, and lets a young man into the street.
“You’re late, Tyler.”
“I know, I know,” Tyler grumbles. He shuffles over to stand next to Jim, hunching his shoulders. “I had to wait twenty minutes for a cab. I’m soaked.” He wrinkles his nose at the rain. “This sucks.”
“Shut up. I’ve been standing out here for a fucking hour waiting for you.” Jim turns away. “Come on.”
Tyler stays where he is.
“I said, come on.”
“I don’t want to do this.”
“Don’t start with that.”
“Look…I just can’t, okay? Why do I have to do it?”
“It isn’t your job to question. It’s your job to do what you’re told. You know that. Now come on.”
Tyler stands motionless and stares at the ground.
“Don’t make me stand out here all night.”
“You can go. I’m staying here.”
“Tyler, you can’t do this.”
“Watch me.”
Jim scowls.
“Tyler, I’m going to explain this to you slowly. You. Have. No. Choice. You wanted in, and now you’re in. And once you’re in, there’s no getting out. Understand?”
“I understand…but…”
“No, you do not understand. There are no ifs, buts, or maybes. You can’t beg your way in and then go chickenshit on me at the last second. You’ve been great so far, but your ass is on the line here. Don’t think that you can’t be replaced.”
“Maybe I want to be replaced!”
A look from Jim reminds Tyler exactly what being replaced means. He narrows his eyes. Jim sighs and puts a hand on the kid’s shoulder.
“Look, Tyler, I like you. And there aren’t a lot of people I like. I know the first time is hard. You just need to go for it.”
Tyler takes a deep breath and nods slowly. The hand on his shoulder slides to his elbow and pulls him through the double doors and out of the cold.
“It’ll get easier. I promise.”

Tyler Leone never asked for this. No, that’s a lie; he did ask for it. He begged for it. But he hadn’t known what he was getting into when he did.
It began with a fight in some alley. The local capo regime needed a new errand boy, and Tyler needed a new way to get his kicks. The capo just happened to walk by when Tyler was in the middle of a fight with three thugs twice his size. He fought with so much style that their asses were handed back to them gift wrapped in tiny blue Tiffany boxes. The capo liked style. So what the hell, Tyler thought? He needed the easy money; the respect and power that went along with the job weren’t too bad either. How could he have known what was in store?

“It’ll get easier.”
Jim’s words echo in his head. They’ve been telling him that from day one. But so far it has only been getting harder and harder, and Tyler is wondering where it will stop, and how far they’ll make him go. First it was breaking windows. Then it became torching cars. Robberies, beatings, torture. “And now this?” he thinks, fingering the gun in his pocket. He’s had to push himself harder and harder to do what they ask. He does it flawlessly every time, driven to perfection by the promise of money, power, an easy out once he’s done his job to their satisfaction.
“It’ll get easier.”
It’s become his mantra. When they had him breaking noses with a crowbar and he almost cracked, he reminded himself, “This is hard, but getting out is harder.”  He pulled it together. He stayed in.
Now he’s sweating outside a hotel room while Jim keeps watch down the hall. His hands are shaking and he can’t attach the silencer, he keeps dropping it. He can’t break. Not now. Not after he’s come so close to the easy that he’s been promised.
The silencer clicks into place. Tyler slowly slides the key card into the door lock and gently pushes the handle. The room is dark and he can hear snoring. His job just got a whole lot easier.
Slip inside. Quietly close the door. Let his eyes adjust, slowly. Slowly. Slink over to the bed. Tyler can hear his pulse, feel it down in his toes. He raises the gun to the sleeper’s head.
His fingers are trembling.
He closes his eyes.
He takes a breath.
Pop.
Pop.
Pop.

Tyler doesn’t know how they get out of the hotel. The gun is gone and he can’t remember what happened to it. He walks with Jim down the street to where a car is waiting for them. Jim opens the door for him and they slide in.
“How was it?”
Tyler blinks and looks at Jim.
“Hm?”
“How was it? The job.”
“Oh, yeah.” Tyler looks down at his hands in his lap. They aren’t shaking anymore.

“It was easy.”