Focal Enemy | ✔

Consternation (a feeling of uncertainty or dismay at something uncertain)

The same gun that had taken so many lives rested between both of Theodore's hands as he loaded it full of bullets. Never in a million years had he expected this. How had it all caught up to him? How had he and Joe turned to enemies?

Once upon a time, Joe had seen potential in him. He had showed him the way. He had bought Theodore into his home and fed and clothed him, in many ways like an uncle or a grandfather. They had been allies. They hadn't been on opposite sides of the field. They had stood together against anyone who had threatened either of them.

Theodore knew Lucas was low and week. That's why he'd gotten in with his side of business. He somehow thought that Lucas was a drunk pushover. He thought that he could take Lucas' business for himself. He was very far wrong.

With the gun loaded, Theodore tucked it into the inside of his jacket and stepped out of his car into the uncertainty of the night.

Joe's house was still bright. From the sky, it must have been a peculiar sight. The front door was locked. CCTV was everywhere. Joe must have known Theodore was there before he even reached the door.

"Theodore," said Joe. "Come in."

Theodore proceeded past him, feeling shivers run up and down his spine. If Joe had been any sort of honourable man, a blade would have been rammed through his ribs by now.

"Two visits in a month," remarked Joe, rather plainly. "I must be lucky. To what do I owe this pleasure."

"Don't beat around the bush," said Theodore. "I'm not playing games."

Joe simply nodded. He was calm. Much calmer than Theodore would have been in that situation. Theodore wondered if he really knew at all. But, Lucas was dead. Joe knew. He had to.

"Take a seat, Theodore." He motioned towards the living area, to where they had last sat together as friends. "Can I get you some whiskey?"

Although Theodore was on edge and hesitant, he nodded and took the seat that had been offered to him.

"Yes, thank you."

Joe was always the gentleman. Even with rage in his heart, he was still collected enough to invite Theodore into his home, pour two drinks from the same bottle and sit with him, on opposite sides of the a table.

"Drink," pressed Joe, sensing Theodore swithering at the temptation of the alcohol. "I have not poisoned you, Theo."

As if to prove his point, Joe sipped his drink. Theodore took his into hand.

"Why?" asked Joe. "Why did you get involved with Lucas Williams?"

"I did not mean to kill her." said Theodore. "I will not make an excuse. I do not have one. I followed orders and made a mistake. It was not what Marie deserved."

"You dare speak here name!" The table shook as Joe slammed his hands upon it. "You dare to kill her and then let your filthy mouth speak her name! You will be lucky to leave this place alive!"

Theodore expected to die there and then, but he was still living, still breathing.

Joe was on his feet.

"I took you in. I made you no different than my sons. I taught you everything!" His screaming bounced from wall to wall. "I told you what to do! I made sure that you never had to work for lowlife people who would get you killed! And, you repay me by killing my wife, and now you haven't even got the decency to deny it!" Joe walked around the table and stared at Theodore, who was taking it way, way too easy. "You disgust me," Joe spat. "You're a fool - an animal - and you don't even deserve to die at my hand. You are scum, Theodore."