The wine and fatigue did her in. Prior to that, though, Helen had once again dropped hints that she would’ve liked to be intimate, but 47 couldn’t bring himself to do it. He cared about her too much to hurt her like that. Because that’s what would happen—she’d eventually be terribly hurt; in fact, it was inevitable. So he held her at arm’s length for her own good. It was still a new and unfamiliar sensation for him to care about anyone. He thought about the painkillers and how easy it had been to quit them after all. It was the genetic engineering that had done the work. What most addicts endured for weeks and months took only two or three days. No more shakes, headaches, or bad dreams. Actually, that wasn’t quite the truth. 47 still had vivid dreams in which Death appeared. The hitman was no closer to discovering who the Faceless One was, but he would find out soon. He knew it. Oddly, he wasn’t tired. Jet lag never bothered him, and the assassin could always go for long periods without sleep.
What do You think about Raymond Benson - 2012 - Hitman: Damnation?
