You're Only Dead

by Jack Parker

  "That one's verified," Georgie admitted. "Sergei Marx. The crime scene photos are gruesome…man's throat looked like processed meat. So much of Aleksei's flesh was left in the wounds that they were picking bits of the tattoo he used to sport across his knuckles out of Marx's corpse for days before the funeral."

  Emery grimaced. "Glad I'd finished eating for that one."

  "Whatever the case, let's just try and stay on his fucking good side," Victor suggested. "Or whichever side is less horrible at least."

  Georgie stood up and collected her things. "Are you two prepared, then? You know how it's going to play out?"

  Emery nodded. "Ludkov's men will take us to Hunter's home to meet with him. Then they'll leave and I can speak to him as I see fit. Afterwards you'll be waiting to pick us up."

  "Yes. From what I understand, Ludkov already has another job lined up for you in a few days, so we'll meet back up with him tomorrow afternoon."

  "Splendid," Emery muttered. He still wasn't sure whether or not that point would be moot, but either way Victor was refusing to back out. He looked up as Georgie's phone rang. She picked it up, listened, and nodded to them.

  "Sending them down now."

  Victor and Emery looked at one another before standing up. "Alright. We'll see you within the hour, then," Emery said.

  "Good luck, men. And please do play it safe. We don't want a disaster on our hands."

  Emery didn't look at her as he made for the door and headed downstairs. A black sedan was waiting outside for them that they hesitantly climbed into. Yuri and another man sat in the front seats while they settled into the back. "Hello, Yuri. You speak English?" Emery asked as he fastened his seatbelt.

  "English yes," Yuri agreed. "You are quiet now."

  Emery gave Victor a weak-humored smile and did as he was told.

  Chapter 12

  The drive felt all too familiar. Many times had he been seated in the backseat of Barnum's car as a boy, gazing out the window at the other children walking home from school down the street with their friends while he was carted off to spend another evening shut into his room alone. The misery of knowing that he had to hide layered over the fear he wouldn't be able to. How he'd get out of the car and trudge up the steps to the front door, and sometimes Hunter would be waiting there with a smile. Well there would be no smile this time. And no more hiding. Emery calmly gazed up at the sprawling mansion as it appeared in the distance and folded his hands into his lap.

  The car sat at the gate for a few moments before it opened and allow them access. Yuri drove them to the side of the house and parked near the gardens where it was difficult to see from the road before shutting the car off and motioning for the other's to follow him out. Emery kept his head down. Many of Hunter's men had been killed tracking Emery down towards the end of his kidnapping, but there may still have been individuals in Hunter's employment that would recognize his stepson and alert him. Luckily the man who answered the door was one he'd never seen before, and they were all led towards the upstairs without ado. Emery looked around him with an unpleasant shiver. He never thought he would be within these walls again. Only in nightmares had he ever returned. But here he was. One last time. He followed close behind Victor up the stairs and into Hunter's large office.

  "Mr. Eaton will be here shortly," the man informed before stepping out.

  Emery sat himself down in a leather chair facing the desk and gazed around. Not much had changed in here. Hunter had never been a man who put too much stock in his surroundings—it had all been done by professional decorators save for the pictures on his desk. He stared with bubbling rage at the picture of Cynthia Fletcher seated nearest his computer and his gloved fingers dug into the wooden arm of his chair. A moment later the door opened and Hunter walked in with a teacup in one hand, approaching his desk with a glance to Yuri before their eyes met.

  Emery didn't look away from those eyes, but he could hear the cup shatter on the ground.

  Yuri cut in by clearing his throat. "We are here to speak, as usual, yes? To get us to be on same page?"

  Hunter looked between Yuri and Emery, obviously too shocked to speak.

  "We have new employee," Yuri said, gesturing to Emery. "He is English. Sometimes my English, we do not understand one another so well, yes? I bring fluent English speaker to fix. You talk to him. He will make terms clear. Is good?"

  Hunter's eyes didn't move from his stepson, ignoring Yuri as he and his man left the room, leaving Emery and Victor to face him alone.

  "Hello, Hunter," Emery said into the deafening silence.

  He simply stood there, expression dazed. Emery studied him with disgust. The past two years had not been kind to Hunter Eaton. Where he was once in good shape, he was now terribly skinny, looking as though he'd lost a good third of his mass. His hair had gone from somewhat salt and peppered to entirely gray without a hint of brown to show. He looked as though he'd aged ten years and not two. When he spoke, his voice was winded. "You're alive..."

  Emery frowned. "Of course I am. Try though you did to kill me, here I sit. I do hate to be a disappointment, father."

  Hunter leaned a hand down on his desk to steady himself. "I never tried to…I would never have done that."

  Victor thumped Emery's upper arm with a hand. "You must've been imagining those bullets then, huh?"

  "Must have," Emery said dryly. He gave Hunter another disapproving once-over. "It's been some time. You've looked better."

  The older man reached up a hand to rub at his hair self-consciously and gave a stuttering nod. "Yes, I…I suppose the stress of the job is catching up to me."

  "Pity."

  Hunter's mouth moved to make words but it took him an eternity to decide on any. "How…have you been? Are you alright?"

  "I've been quite well, actually. Better than I've ever been. Until recently, that is."

  "I'm so sorry to hear that." He rubbed his hands together and turned a brief circle. "W-would you like a drink? I've got, uh, I have a good brandy somewhere over here, I…"

  "No," Emery dismissed.

  "No. No, of course not," Hunter agreed.

  Emery crossed his legs casually. "Shall we get down to business?"

  "Yes…certainly," Hunter said as he continued to stare numbly. "…Why have you come back?"

  Emery glowered at him for a long moment before folding his hands in his lap. "You didn't think I'd just let you get away with it, did you?"

  Hunter seemed weary, almost crestfallen as he looked down at his stepson. He slowly sank down into his desk chair and stared ahead. "What on earth are you doing with Ludkov's men?"

  "I work for him now," Emery explained. "From what I understand you haven't been properly pulling your weight and he'd like me to give you a friendly reminder as to where all of your money comes from."

  Hunter continued staring, but his eyes briefly drifted over to Victor and suddenly he couldn't remove them.

  "Yes, that's who you think it is," Emery assured. "Now it's true I've come on behalf of Ludkov's interests, but I think we both know the reason I'm really here."

  Hunter tore his eyes away from Victor and set them back on Emery. "To kill me."

  Emery blinked in surprise momentarily and glanced at Victor. He admittedly wasn't expecting this. He had expected anger, resentment, but nothing this pitiful. "And why should I kill you?"

  "Because you detest me," Hunter replied tonelessly. "You made that clear."

  "Well that's not why I'm here. I'm not here for you at all. I'm just here to make you answer for what you've done. If I don't need to kill you in order to get what I want then I won't, but you'd damn well better give it to me."

  Hunter looked down for a long moment at his desk before reaching for a pen from a cup. "Restitution I take it."

  Emery knitted his brows together as he watched Hunter open his checkbook and begin filling it out mechanically.

  "How much do you want?"

  "I don't want your money," Emery snapped. "I want t
o know what the bloody hell you've done with Kurt Gabler."

  Hunter's hand paused mid-signature. He slowly looked up, confusion forming on his face before his features froze. "That man?" he muttered. "…That man?"

  "That man, yes," Emery confirmed impatiently.

  "He's why you're here? All this time you've been with him?" Hunter sat back, rubbing at his face.

  Emery snorted. "Don't pretend to be oblivious. You found us. You saw that I was happy and your ego couldn't stand that someone else was responsible for it."

  "…So you think you love him, then."

  "I know who I love," Emery said. "And I know who I don't. I know he's been taken and I know you're the only one with a motive for having taken him, so spare me the trouble of wringing the truth out of you and just give it to me now. What did you do to him? Is he alive?"

  Hunter huffed out a breath. "I have no idea."

  "I don't believe you."

  "I'm not lying," he replied. "But I hope he's dead, wherever he is."

  Emery produced his gun. "You realize that's a suspicious thing to say."

  "Why shouldn't I wish him dead?" Hunter droned. "He took you from me. Brainwashed you, poisoned you against me. And now it appears after all that he's left you."

  "Wouldn't that be terribly convenient? If you could convince me that he'd left me? Then you'd suppose I wouldn't have a choice but to come running back to you, would I?" Emery stood. "He didn't leave me. Someone took him. I'm not a bloody idiot and I know who that someone is."

  Hunter looked up at him sadly. "My poor boy."

  A swipe of Emery's hand sent the cup of pens flying off and he slammed his fist into the desk. "I am not your boy."

  "Look at what he's done to you." Hunter looked him up and down. "You used to be so warm. Now he's turned you cold…bitter. And worse still he's gotten you mixed up with criminal scum."

  "You mean the same criminal scum that you're mixed up with?"

  "I never wanted that for you. I never wanted you to know about any of that. I was protecting you."

  "Oh yes, that's my wonderful stepfather, always looking out for me," Emery said, straightening up. "Like when my mother died. How good you were to me. How you refused to let me cry, how you made us leave her funeral early to catch a meeting, how you took me to her marital bed less than a week later and fucked me in the last place she slept while I begged you to stop!"

  Hunter looked up, startled.

  "Did it ever occur to you at any point that it is not normal for a father to lust after his son? Did it? My god, what must have happened to you that you thought what you did to me was acceptable?"

  Hunter stared, then looked around, gathering his thoughts. "It isn't strictly normal…no…it's a special case. There are special cases. True love, it makes exceptions."

  "So it was true love, was it?"

  Hunter nodded emphatically.

  Emery leaned down with both hands on the desk. "Then why didn't you ever tell my mother?"

  "…What?"

  Emery snatched the picture of Cynthia off of the desk and held it up angrily. "Why didn't you tell my mother about us? If it was true love, surely she would have understood, right? She would have been happy for us. But instead you hid it. You lied. You made sure she never knew. Why?"

  "I…well I don't know, Emery. It's…complicated. She might have been alright, I suppose, but…society is still repressed. It still isn't even totally accepting of the idea of two men together, let alone what we have."

  "Do not compare yourself to homosexuals. We are not pedophiles by rote."

  "Is that why you're angry?" Hunter asked, holding a hand to his head. "Because I didn't tell her?"

  Emery bit his tongue. "You can't be serious."

  "Didn't I make you happy?" Hunter insisted. His calm demeanor was gradually slipping. "Think back, Emery. Really think. Don't you remember our time together? You would smile at me. You laughed. You used to blush when I kissed you and tell me you loved me and that you wanted to please me. I loved you deeply, Emery, I-I still do, I—"

  "That's enough, stop," Emery waved a hand, moving back. "I was just a child. A child hostage who knew he had to please his captor."

  "You were never my hostage," Hunter protested. "You were my son."

  Emery slowly shook his head. "Is that how your father treated you?"

  Hunter's face faltered and he gave a lengthy pause. "No. My father didn't love me."

  "How do you know that?"

  Hunter looked away. "I don't see how that's relevant."

  "Because I'm asking you," Emery said gruffly. "I've spent half my life wondering what I did wrong to entice you. You really don't feel like you owe me any explanation at all for how miserable you made me?"

  "Miserable…?" Hunter seemed to deflate. "No, you…I know you were happy. You were."

  "Miserable," Emery repeated. He set the picture of his mother down gently. "You wouldn't let me live. Do you know I tried to kill myself once?"

  Hunter's mouth dropped open slightly. "What?"

  "Yes. I nearly succeeded, too. But why should that matter to you? Why should it matter if I felt so alone I wanted to die so long as you had everything you wanted? It was true love, after all, my feelings be damned."

  "Are you…" Hunter swallowed. "Are you saying that you never loved me?"

  Emery wanted to scream 'yes'. Yes, of course I didn't love you, I always hated you. You ruined my life. You destroyed my trust, my security, and I still can't sleep at night thinking of the awful things you put me through, how could you think I ever loved you? …But it would be a lie, and he knew it. The truth was worse. "…No. I did, once."

  Hunter looked up hopefully.

  "For nearly a year when we first met I loved you like a father. And then you betrayed me."

  Hunter suddenly reached out, grasping at Emery's wrist. Thoughtless fear spiked in his heart before he got ahold of himself and heard Victor draw his gun beside him.

  "Hands off," Victor warned.

  Hunter ignored him. "Emery, I'm sorry! Please believe me, I never wanted to hurt you! I just wanted to show you love, and I thought that's what I did…"

  "Let go of me."

  "Oh god, please, Emery. If you ever loved me, I can make you love me again. I promise. I'll be kinder to you. It can be like it used to be, we can finally be happy again, I can make up for all of it. You were right before. I was never very good at listening to what you wanted, but time apart has given me a chance to really reflect. I'm a better man now. I can love you better. I don't even care about your indiscretions with that crook—or any of the others before him. I can make you just as happy as you were when you were still that sweet, sunny little boy. Happier, even."

  "How dare you…" Emery murmured in disbelief.

  Hunter was undeterred. "You don't have to live this life of crime and confusion and danger, it's not too late to get out. You can come home. You can come back to me and I'll make it all go away."

  The tone was so saccharine and deluded that Emery wanted to retch. "Let go of me!" He jerked his arm away roughly

  Hunter drew back his trembling hand.

  "All I want from you is the truth, Hunter. If you want to redeem yourself, if you want my forgiveness, then just give me that." He leaned down again, staring him in the eyes. "Did you take Kurt?"

  Hunter was quiet for a long while before he shook his head. "You told me…that if I loved you, I shouldn't follow you. …And so I didn't."

  Emery didn't know what to say. Anger swelled up in his chest so hot it burned and he wanted to destroy everything in front of him. He wanted to direct all that anger at Hunter. To leap on him, beat him to a sopping mess, tear him apart with his bare hands, and ignore the fact that his anger was for himself, because it was then he realized it had all been for nothing. This was his very last lead drying up. At that moment he had to fully admit that he hadn't suspected Hunter because the evidence was in his favor, but because it had to be Hunter. It had to be, because if it wasn't the
n he had no clue who had abducted Kurt and he absolutely couldn't face that fact, he couldn't start from scratch, it couldn't be that hopeless, it couldn't. Emery snapped, reaching forward and fisting Hunter's tie before dragging him forward over the desk to plant his gun on his head.

  "You're lying!" he snarled.

  "Emery, stop!" Victor interjected.

  Emery gripped the tie harder and glared balefully into Hunter's perfectly shocked face. "Tell me where he is."

  "I don't know, Emery, I don't," he panted quietly.

  Emery cracked him across the face with the butt of his gun and Hunter jerked violently to the side, coughing in pain and gripping at his nose. Emery leaned in closer. "Tell me where he is!"

  "Emery, Emery, please…" Hunter moaned.

  "I told you I wouldn't kill you if you just told me the truth, Hunter, but you can't even give me that!"

  "I swear to you I don't know, Emery…I've never lied to you…not ever…" Hunter gripped at the arm holding his tie, but it was with sickening tenderness instead of the fear or desperation such a physical threat should warrant.

  "Em, don't do it," Victor pleaded behind him fervently. "Don't do this, he's not worth it, don't fuck this up, man."

  "He's lying," Emery said, licking his lips and breathing hard. "He's lying to me. He's got to be."

  "Em," Victor said softly.

  He stared into Hunter's bruised face and he could feel his hand start to shake. Hunter Eaton molested children. He cheated on wives. He ruined families. He was a drug lord and a sociopath and a selfish, insidious git. He deserved to die. It would be downright irresponsible to let him live.

  "What do you think Kurt would tell you to do here, Em?"

  Emery's lip quivered and he swallowed hard. Fuck all… He slowly lowered the gun and pulled back, forcing out a breath and shoving Hunter away so that he fell into his chair once more.

  "That's it," Victor encouraged. "That's what we came here for. Now we have to leave."

  Emery continued looking dejectedly down at Hunter's frightened face, studying him as if he were a picture from the past as opposed to a flesh and blood man. A memory. That's all he was when you got right down to it. Just a bad memory. And try though you might, you can never kill those. Dead or not, Hunter would remain with him always. Emery stepped back and turned to Victor, feeling eviscerated. "I…"