“Spare me, Kev, you never cared what people think of you, as long as they stay away,” Thomas flinched slightly when his hands touched the hot metal railing. “It's not like you were making some notable efforts to get on the family's better side.”

Kevin scoffed and gave the young man a cold side-glance. "Like you're the one to preach," he muttered, rubbing his temples.

"Why not?" Thomas wondered. "I'm just stating simple facts, you know. That's no reason to get defensive."

"I'm not being defensive," Kevin rolled his eyes and reached to take another cigarette out of his pocket, bringing it to his mouth to light it up.

"That's alright, I'd be defensive too if I was in some sort of shady business."

The old man's body contracted abruptly like he'd been punched in the chest, dropping his cigarette out of his mouth and fully turning to Thomas, wide-eyed. "How could you possibly know that?"

Thomas looked back, smiling with a hint of smugness. He didn't know. "Gotcha."

With his panic and frustration steadily rising since the phone call now mixed with a combination of long held doubt and disdain as well as straight up hatred, Kevin let out an angry growl as he grabbed the man by the collar of his shirt and pulling towards him. He never considered that Thomas was slightly taller than him, but he couldn't afford to let that intimidate him. He clenched his jaws, lips drawn back to show his teeth. “Listen here, you little son of a-!”

"Now-now, is that any way to talk about your sister?” Thomas kept his cool despite the violent gesture, as if he had anticipated it. Seeing Kevin was taken aback by the reminder, he took the opportunity to seize hold of his wrists to release his grip. “You're just digging yourself into a deeper hole like that.”

Realizing his disposition, Kevin pulled his hands back with no signs of resisting from Thomas, who immediately let him go but didn't break eye contact, as if his gaze alone was holding Kevin in his place. “Fine, you little bastard,” he crossed his arms, ignoring the irony, “how'd you figure that out?”

Thomas straightened his clothes and stood back to his full height. “Well,” he could see Kevin's eye twitch at how pleased he sounded with that sign of compliance, “for a while I was pretty sure that you were so attached to your sister that you couldn't bear sending away the last thing you have of her, which is admirable, considering how you clearly didn't want me around but pulled through with you role as a legal guardian.” He paused for a moment. It appeared that Kevin was never aware of how much the devil-child had picked up, but he didn't deny anything either, so Thomas kept going. “So it wasn't a sentimental matter, at least not since you have ‘accepted your fate', and after that you and the rest of the family have already moved on. Since then you've had multiple opportunities to call the cops even based on suspicions, especially since the pet shop. I'm quite flattered that you didn't make any attempt to pry further.”

“You're saying I should have simply kept asking?” Kevin grit his teeth upon seeing Thomas quietly nod. “Tch...figures,” he rolled his eyes, feeling a sense of relief once not looking into the burning, amber eyes.

“Still, I've had my doubts and allowed myself to enjoy them, even pushing the limits a little to see what you'll be willing to allow to slip by,” Thomas redirected the conversation, not looking away from Kevin. “That is, until that send-off,” he chuckled again, forcing Kevin to look back, almost as though someone had grabbed his face and twisted it back around. “You had to ask. In the back of your mind, you just thought of me as a killer,” his voice became an unfathomable combination of being both chillingly cold, while at the same time harboring a hint of something that sounded like repressed fury, “a being so diabolical, it makes perfect sense that it'll kill both of its parents with no remorse.” He paused again, donning a smile that appeared practically innocent compared to his smug and cunning smirks. When he spoke again, the threatening tone in his voice was gone. “So it was safe to assume you barely saw me as family, much less a remnant of you sister. And if that was the case, there had to be something about you and your doings, past or present, that made you wary of policemen, more than the average citizen's common disdain towards authority.”

As the man went on and as much as Kevin hated to admit it, while he felt the fear creeping up his spine at the thought of how much Thomas has deduced even with the two of them hardly ever talking, he was also captivated by how he had laid things out. It was beyond a shadow of a doubt now that he wasn't only putting things together so early on, but that he had also carefully planned how he'd reveal that information.

Panic and frustration were slowly replaced with curiosity; he knew he was being lured into a trap, he could feel it, but at the same time found himself intrigued, wanting to know what other conclusions he had got and how. "What makes you so sure it's about shady business?" he wondered, the edge to his voice clearly diminishing.

"Your tags aren't a military thing, even if they look similar, but looks more like something to identify someone how might get their lifeless body dumped in a ditch," the casual way Thomas went about the assumption made it even more morbid than it naturally was. "I would know, I usually look for identifiers that might survive the fire," his pride was unmistakable.

"That would explain the toothless victims..." Kevin sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Shouldn't have let you watch those crime investigation shows."

Thomas shrugged and went on. "It's worth a mention that while a spotty schedule isn't really out of the ordinary, especially for someone who does moving for both private and commercial customers-" at this point Kevin wasn't even surprised that Thomas figured out his itinerary and type of work, even though they never discussed it, "but no one with a spotless record needs an urgent moving service at 3AM that drags you out of the house more than once. So either you're part of some sort organized band of criminals, or your employer is, and assigns you criminally-oriented customers, meaning in both cases having any presence of a police would be bad for all parties involved."

Kevin remained quiet for a moment and took another cigarette out of his pocket, lighting it up and throwing the lighter back at Thomas. "Good job, Sherlock," he took a slow drag and let the ashes fall on the tiled floor. Thomas was right, exaggerated reactions would just be a further proof of guilt and seeing as he clearly did quite an extensive research, it was clear now that being defensive would only work against him. "So where are you going with this? Blackmailing me into helping you?"

"Blackmail only works if it can't be countered," he answered, putting the gloves back over his hands. Kevin remained quiet and stared at him, so Thomas explained, "I've pretty much confessed to you about what I've done, did I not?" he reminded him the exchange that seemed to have happened so long ago. "You can practically bargain this confession as evidence in turn for a reduced sentence."

Kevin stuck the cigarette between his teeth, breathing in and letting the smoke out around it. "What makes you so sure I won't just turn you in?"

"Because I know you don't want to talk to the police, and that they might put you under suspicion as well, as a potential accomplice." Thomas stopped and a sinister-looking smile crept to his face, "and of course, should you take that risk anyway, I'll make sure to put you as my final target," he was very decisive in his statement and frighteningly casual, as he took out a single cigarette out of his own box to have a smoke.

The scene felt nostalgic to Kevin, but with none of the good feeling nostalgia often brings up. Just buried terror. "Fair point," he admitted, taking another drag. Looks like it was time to try and overlook the past and talk business. "I don't know what you think I have to offer in terms of helping you out, but you better have a damn good plan to keep both of us under the radar."

Thomas exhaled a cloud of bright smoke, his smile turning to an amused grin, equally malicious. "Have you been listening, at all?"

~~

"Jeez, kid, I thought you said small fire," Kevin ashed his cigarette outside the window of the car as he drove away, feeling his nerves unwind as he exhaled and glanced at the side-mirror next to him, seeing the golden-orange glow and occasional tongues of fire shooting up from the cabin behind them, quickly reaching to the trees surrounding the clearing it was built into. The thick black smoke is sure to supply them with sufficient cover from any aerial backup that's bound to follow once the fire spreads.

"Yeah, I might have underestimated the wind factor," there wasn't even a hint of concern in Thomas' voice, and in fact it sounded a little distant. "But it makes for a convincing 'accident'. Nice thinking leaving the phone with that scapegoat, makes it look like she really followed the informant there."

Kevin took one last drag and stuffed the remains of his cigarette into the car's ashtray, checking once more to make sure the flames aren't gaining on them before glancing over to Thomas, who appeared unusually absent-minded watching the inferno from the side mirror closer to him. He doubted the man is content with the results, since the true indication to whether it worked or not will be clear later on, but there was still something different about him. He seemed...in peace. "Hey, didn't you have your last smoke before we started this?" he recalled, gesturing to the glove compartment where he kept an emergency stock. "You could probably use one to take the edge off, or, I don't know...celebrate," he shrugged.

Thomas took a quick look at the compartment, not even reaching to it, and went back to watch the blaze. "I'm good."

"You've been chain-smoking for the past couple of days, and now you just...don't need it?" Kevin wondered, flooring the gas pedal once the wind direction changed, taking a short bumpy ride through the dirt road before merging into the main road, heading back towards the city. "I don't think that's how quitting works."

There was another moment of eerie silence before he heard Thomas letting a short chuckle. "Oh, it's not about nicotine dependency," he hummed, turning to look forward once all that was left in their sight were towering plumes of black smoke. In the corner of his eye, Kevin thought he saw the fire still sparkling deep in the kid's pupils.

It took him back to the first time he let him smoke, after seeing that same spark when he looked at the glowing ashes. Teens usually see the cigarette itself as the object if interest, but Thomas was never like any of them.

He recalled something peculiar Thomas has said back then that he never really clarified; he argued that he wants to smoke because, according to what Kevin said, it could grant him some sense of calm, but never really addressed what's been bothering him.

Clearly, it had never left. "What is it, then?"

"A socially acceptable way of repressing an inexplicable murderous intent," he answered without missing a beat.

Afraid to succumb to the shock of yet another casually morbid statement, Kevin had only one coherent thought, and no good judgment of possible consequences. "So if you say you'd kill for a smoke..." he lingered.

His heart almost stopped when for the first time he heard what he thought was impossible. Thomas was laughing, and didn't sound like some nefarious old-school cartoon villain, like Kevin always imagined he would. "Well...that's a good way to put it," he agreed, leaning his head back. "It goes away for a while, and slowly builds up. Smoking calms that...'craving', much like it does for hunger, but at some point, it's not enough."

Kevin took a moment to settle back, slowly unclenching his fingers from around the steering wheel, before his knuckles would turn white. Although it was a shocking reveal, it mostly stemmed from the nonchalant delivery, as all in all none of it came as a surprise, but just made so much things fall into place. "And it takes about a month for 'it' to get to that point?" he wondered, looking to his right for a moment to see Thomas nodding before quickly looking back at the road. "Do you have any method of choosing, or...?"

"Just whoever." Thomas shrugged. "As anonymous as possible."

"I see." Kevin went silent for some time, until taking a turn off the main road leading to the city's center.

He could see Thomas immediately tensing up, realizing they're no longer taking the road they planned ahead, and weren't on the same track they took to get to the cabin in the first place. "A detour?" he looked around for a moment before setting his torch-like gaze to the driver's temple. "Care to explain?"

"You just orchestrated the murder of a police officer. I think you've outgrown that garage work," Kevin smiled, still feeling a slight shiver under Thomas' stare. "I think that this 'shady business' thing will be right up your alley."

"Is that so?" Thomas slowly settled back in his chair, although his doubt was very clear. "Sounds like you're setting me up with a job interview."

"You can say that," Kevin steered towards the outskirts of the city and away from populated residential areas, where most of the industrial facilities were located.

Thomas looked around, unimpressed. "Couldn't have imagine a more fitting place," he mused. "Sure your employer would be fine with you dropping unannounced?"

Kevin slowed the car down and carefully drove between the warehouses and some empty hangars, and an occasional decrepit office building. "I'll take that chance," he answered once spotting the place, pulling up to an alley next to it that was just wide enough for the two to get out of the car. "I think they'll be pretty impressed with you."

"Yeah?" Thomas followed the man to the front door to one of the better kept buildings in the area. "What kind of people are they?"

Kevin took a moment and pulled another cigarette from the pack in his pocket, lighting it up before pressing the buzzer installed next to the door for a few seconds.

"They're a couple of Jokers."