Hitting on the hitman

I'll take yours. (70)

TW: This chapter contains graphic descriptions, detail and violence, which may be disturbing for some readers, please read with causation.

Gray couldn't help the bitter laugh that fell out of him, "And the 5-year-old? What the fuck did she do?" He stared numbly at the sight of his poor sister strapped up like a lab rat, her golden hair dirty, stringing down her terrified face. Shame trickled through him for a moment and then as his father didn't respond his eyes flickered over to Gerald.

The Gerald Gray was used to was a harsh man, cold and angry, but behind that, it was difficult to truly read him, but this was different. Gerald was transparent. As if he couldn't hide it anymore, the mess and wreck inside of him as if any light and joy finally flickered out of him.

"Your-" He stopped himself as if trying to pull himself together and pull his words together. "You're mother has been filling her head with poisonous thoughts against me."

"So you strap her up in a torture room?"

"I'm not gonna kill the Kid Gray, just teach her a lesson, teach her what happens to family who turn on each other."

Gray pushed his tongue against his cheek and his fingers dug deeper into his palms, he had never wanted to hurt his father so much in his life.

"Gray," Gerald smiled now, it was a flickering desperate smile, the kind of smile where your mouth goes up, but your eyes don't. He went to Gray and put his hands on his shoulders as if they were close, as if he loved him, as if he was dear to him. It made Gray swallow. His father knew how much he longed for that feeling. Gray knew it was manipulation, but he listened anyway.

"Gray, if you do this there will be no more tests, no more lessons, I will know your ready."

Gray knew it was awful, the way he let Gerald's words twist in his head, the way he considered it. But he knew that was the type of person he was now and there was no running away from that.

But never, would he be the boy who murdered his own mother.

"No."

Gray didn't dare look at his father when the word fell out of his mouth, despite the insanity of the situation he still felt like a disappointment.

His father gripped his shoulders a little tighter, giving them a gentle squeeze. His eyes stung from it, why did that simple movement feel like a goodbye?

"Fine." His father nodded before letting go of Gray and slowly turning from him, his movements were robotic, prolonged as if he was fighting each one. He pulled a knife from his back pocket and walked towards his mother with a struggling determination that split Gray's world in half and made his eyes go wide.

Thousands of needles pricked his skin, expanding and exploding within him. He felt nauseous.

NO. He wouldn't let this happen. So he rushed towards his father laying a gentle hand on his shoulder but before he could do anything he was met with a swift powerful blow to the face sending him tumbling back onto the rough cold flood.

Like a jolt of electricity, the pain shot from the side of his face through his nerves, an agonizing throbbing stinging his skin.

He looked back up to see his father glaring down at him in disgrace, a knife in one hand and the other he gave a little shake to wear off the pressure from punching him.

He only realised the way his mother and sister trembled from it, they had never seen Gerald be violent towards Gray before, not that he wasn't, that was just him. But Gray realised at that moment how blind they were to it. Of course they were, his mother would never allow it if she knew and Gray was always too scared to ever tell her.