Grit – Family Matter 1

Weddings and funerals and all the other clichéd bullshit were not something that Grit bothered with, but this was a special occasion … this was someone he wanted to see them lower into the ground. No one would recognise him he hoped, and if they did, what of it? Who was likely to approach him and tackle him on anything?

He got to the church early so that he could choose where he got to sit. Pick the perfect entry and exit point. You would think it was a military exercise the way he treated it and in some ways he found it as dangerous to his personal integrity as any job he ever went on; in fact the jobs were easier because all you had to do was go in and kill someone and he knew how to do that. He didn’t know how to do social situations so well – it was why he was perfect for what he did. The lone wolf with few attachments. Thank god he didn’t know too many people so these events were few and far between anyway – that narrowed the field, then the fact that he cherry-picked from them meant it was barely a problem. Still, he surprised himself that he was even bothering with this.

John was a criminal too. Not a good one but good enough to have put food on his family’s table for this many years – you had to respect that. John had done time and not bitched about it once – it went with the territory as far as he was concerned. It was a while since Grit had spoken to him – their father’s funeral he thought. Grit had put a bullet in the back of the skull of one of John’s friends. He knew it before he took the job: it paid to do your research, and he had known it wouldn’t sit well with his brother but he was a business man and it made good business sense. John sent him a message to the effect of honour among thieves. Grit left him a one word message: business. And that was that.

And now this. Cancer – what a fucked up way for a warrior to get taken out. They always talked about themselves like that. That old samurai saying: truth is a feather, honour is a mountain. Grit had come to consider it a childish inconvenience – he hooked himself into the capitalist ideal – filthy lucre all the way. Morality wasn’t such a point of concern given that he was almost exclusively killing criminals. John was too fucking precious about the whole thing.

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