Quarry

The Man leaves his office to begin his journey to his apartment along the pavement that pass a bar where he stops for drinks. He does so now much often since his wife left him for another man.
He peeks over his shoulder to look for the couple that has been following him so he believes.
"Think he realizes he is being followed?" The Fellow asks his partner.
"I bet he doesn’t have a clue," she says.
"I hope not, it will make the job easier."
"Yeah."
The Man goes into the bar.
"Bourbon over ice?" The Bartender asks.
"Yes please."
He looks around the bar for the couple. They’re not in the bar. He wonders if his nerves are bothering him since that day he made inquiries to arrange to have his wife and her boyfriend killed, maybe the guy went to the cops, and they are following him for more evidence. He drinks three more Bourbons over ice then leaves the bar onto the street, dark from a starless sky and dim streetlights. He does not see the couple and concludes it was his imagination of guilt bothering him. He got to get over that feeling he tells himself. He begins anew his walk to his apartment.
The neighborhood block is quiet, lonely until the Woman steps from the shadow and block his path.
"I’m lost sir," she says.
"What?"
"I’m lost."
He does not recognize the Woman who has been following him with the Fellow, until he feels a knife blade being thrust into his back. "This is from the boss," the Fellow snarls. She whispers in his ear. "Your gambling debt has been paid in full." END