Quinn was understandably tense. The morning had started rough, the kids being kids, barely getting them to school on time. Her husband had been asking her to take the car to the shop for days now and Angie really wanted Quinn to join her yoga class. But those things had to wait. First she had to kill a man.
It had to be today. The man was being transferred soon. He was needed in Costa Rica…or was it Belize? Hushed rumors about his proclivities were popping up more and more. They were too little, too late. She swore to Cole that she would not let him get away.
She glanced at her phone to check the time. He’d be here any minute. He was never late, even when people stopped him for a quick word, as they often did. It was early enough, however, that she hoped the two of them would be alone for just a moment. That was all she needed. She waited in the small dark booth and slipped her hand into her bag once more to make sure the gun was still there. Surprisingly easy to get. A dumpy pawnshop in a bad part of town. The leering greasy weasel behind the counter only too happy to help her. It was heavy and awkward but worked as promised. The long tube on the end made it sound a bit like the BB gun her little brother had shot her with when she was 13. The memory of that made her think back to the laughing little boy he was back then, before…
She forced herself to take a deep breath and relax.
She was startled as the door creaked open. Quinn could see the shadow of the man as he entered his side of the booth. Watched through the screen as he straightened his clothes and took a moment to prepare himself for the day to come. Finally, he turned and she could clearly see his profile through the screen. It was time.
She brought the gun up even with the man’s chest. Heard him clear his throat softly, gently urging her to begin. It occurred to her that she should say…something. Like she should’ve had some Tarantino-esque speech prepared, something cold and heartless to let the man know these were his final moments. Instead, she began with the only thing she could remember.
“Forgive me, Father…” she whispered and hesitated.
She could see him lean closer to the screen. “Yes?”
In that frozen moment, she remembered her brother. The way he changed from a smart, happy little boy to a morose, sullen, self-destructive young man. Then the drugs. That final phone call when he told her everything.
She swallowed hard, fighting back tears “…you have sinned.”
She pulled the trigger once, twice. The gun bucked in her hand. The sound like a harsh cough. The smell filled the air in the cramped booth. She watched through the screen as the man clutched his chest. Slumped to the floor.
“Cole Feeney was my brother. He was beautiful and you ruined him.”
Stuffing the gun back into her bag, Quinn listened as the priest took his final gasping breath before she slipped out of the confessional.