They walk down to Eli’s car in silence. Eli realizes that this may very well be the first time Koby’s been outside in quite a few days. Despite that, the boy in question doesn’t seem interested in his surroundings; he keeps his eyes down and chews on his bottom lip, seemingly completely lost in thought.

“Wanna talk about it?” Eli’s voice is soft, expressing every bit of the concern he’s been trying to suppress.

Koby shakes his head and places his hand on his right shoulder, visibly wincing. Eli sighs and speeds up slightly, trying to leave whatever emotions he’s feeling in the cold, cement stairwell leading to his garage.

The tangible silence continues as they get in the car and drive off. Koby’s dark eyes stay trained on the ground and he makes himself as small as possible. He barely moves, even when the car goes over the occasional bump in the road. Eli’s anxious for him by the time they get to their destination.

He parks the car and turns it off, shifting his gaze to the boy at his side, “You okay?”

Koby nods and opens his door, stepping out into the afternoon sunlight. It reflects off his dark hair, almost making him look like he has a halo. He cracks his knuckles and turns back to face Eli, “What now?”

His voice is so quiet, Eli almost doesn’t hear him, “Sorry?”

The boy clears his throat and speaks again, a little louder this time, “What do we do now?”

“Now,” The older man tucks his handgun into the back of his pants. “We go collect some money.”

He locks the doors and turns toward the house, moving slow and cat-like; keeping an eye on the windows. Eli’s in his element here; his breath is calm and silent, his heartbeat is loud, but he’s using it as a way to count his movements: one breath every three beats. He’s addicted to the times like this, and he loves being a junkie.

He bangs on the door and yells, making Koby jump. They both tune into the sounds around them, waiting to hear any telltale sounds from inside the house. No response comes, and Eli starts counting in his head; if it takes more than one minute, he’s breaking the door down.

The seconds begin to tick by slowly. One… two… three… four…  Still no answer. Six… seven… eight… Koby draws his attention by fiddling with the gun he was given. Eleven… twelve… thirteen… Eli’s already starting to get impatient. Fifteen… sixteen… seventeen… eigh-- The door opens.

A middle-aged man is standing in the doorway. Sweat is forming on his brow, making his receding hairline glisten in the afternoon light.

“H-hello, Eli.” His voice is shaking.

“Afternoon, Brent,” Eli’s voice is jovial and dripping with so much poison that Koby can hear it. “May we come inside?”

The man, Brent, quickly moves aside, holding the door open for the dealer and the prostitute to pass through.

In the foyer, Eli turns to Brent and smiles. It’s deadly. “So. I gave you an extra month,” His tone doesn’t change at all. “Where’s my money?”

His victim sputters out a barely-formed excuse and holds out his hands in defeat, “M-my ex-wife… she needed the money. I could’ve gone to jail…”

“For not paying child support to your wife who I know hasn’t left you yet?” Eli sighs heavily and points his gun at the man's forehead. “Koby,” He places his finger on the trigger. “Go search the house. Bring back anyone you find. I know there are people in here.”

Koby nods and turns, moving towards the staircase.

“Make it snappy, Kitten.”

He hesitates and glares back at Eli, his foot hovering above the bottom stair. He takes a breath to calm himself and makes his way up, going slow to avoid making noise.

He’s passing the bathroom when he hears hushed voices. They sound frantic. He pushes the door open and scans over the dull room. His eyes land on two women hiding in the bathtub, one older, one younger. Thinking fast, Koby puts a finger to his lips and holds out his hand.

“Don’t worry, I’m a cop,” He whispers. “I’m here to help.”

The older woman extends her arm, taking Koby’s hand. There are red welts on her skin, and as he looks closer, he can see a bruise starting to form around her neck. The younger woman, the daughter Koby assumes, isn’t much better: there’s a dark bruise on her cheek, and a small patch on her head that looks like someone pulled her hair out.

“Did he do this to you?”

The daughter nods, holding her mother steady. “Please,” Her voice is quiet and rough. “Please do something about him.”

Koby nods and smiles, “We will.” He motions for the women to follow him, leading them into the hallway and down the stairs to where Eli is waiting patiently.

Golden eyes flit to the trio entering the room, and Eli smiles. “Glad you could join us.”

The boy walks to him and stands on his toes to whisper in Eli’s ear. The man smiles and nods, turning his attention to the women.

“Thank you for telling me, Kitten. Now ladies, is it true this man hurts you?” He gestures with his gun.

They both nod, holding onto one another. Brent stays where he is, frozen and wide-eyed. Eli keeps his focus on them, his sun-colored eyes shining with cruel promises.

“They asked if you would do something to help.” Koby pipes up from his place near the wall.

“And I’m sure you have plenty of suggestions, don’t you?” Eli asks sardonically. 

He groans and crosses his arms, “Kill him or kill them all and let’s leave. I want to go.”

Eli sighs and flicks his hair out of his eyes, “You’re boring, Kitten.” He fires and Brent falls to the ground, blood flowing across the white carpeted floor. The women shriek and run from the room.

Koby glares as hard as he can, shooting daggers at his white-haired adversary. He’s never counted himself as an impulsive person, but he doesn’t care at this moment. He grabs the gun he had forgotten he’s carrying and fires at Eli’s chest.

The man grunts and stumbles back against the wall, gripping his chest. Koby marches over and yanks Eli’s hand away from the injury. He balls his free hand into a fist and punches the bullet wound before shoving his finger into it. Eli goes tense and grits his teeth, trying to block out as much of the throbbing, hot-as-fire pain as he can, even as it shoots through his body. Koby twists his finger hard, shoving the bit of metal in further.

“I’m not your pet, fuckhead,” He growls. “And you don’t get to order me around, got it?”

The white-haired man shudders and forces himself to smile, “You’re gonna want to take your finger outta there before it gets stuck.”

Koby quickly pulls his hand away, shaking off the rapidly cooling blood. He watches, disgusted, as Eli’s body forces the remaining bit of shrapnel out and the flesh mends itself. He takes a deep breath, massaging the sore skin.

Fueled by anger, he grabs Koby’s arm and shoves him into the wall, forcing the barrel of his gun against the bottom of the boy’s skull.

“One bullet, Kitten. One bullet, and you’ll be six feet under with your pretty little nuclear family.” He cocks the gun and leans in next to Koby’s ear, “Believe me when I say I’m keeping you alive for a reason.”

Koby hisses in pain, feeling his shoulder throb, “So you can let your buddies rape me?” He spits, aiming for Eli’s feet. “So you can torture me and then pretend to care about me? That’s rich.”

“You wish.” Eli pulls back, his earlier somewhat jovial mood has completely vanished. He pushes Koby against the wall one last time and walks to the door, checking outside to make sure no police have shown up.

Without looking back, he motions for the boy to follow, and steps outside, “We have to move. Someone will have heard those shots.”

Koby stays still, holding himself tightly. He looks frozen in time, like some sort of life like doll. Eli groans in frustration and grabs his arm, dragging him out of the house and into the car.

They race down the road at top speed, Eli scanning their surroundings for any sign of the police. After some time he relaxes, slowing to a more reasonable speed. A cop car flies past them, sirens blaring, heading in the direction of the house they just left.

Eli takes a deep breath before speaking, “Will you hand me a cigarette? They’re in the glove compartment.”

Silence. Koby doesn’t move. He keeps his fists balled in his lap, and his eyes squeezed shut. His purple hair is falling forward, creating a curtain that shields the majority of his face from view. From where he’s sitting, Eli can see the tiniest of movements from his mouth.

“Koby?”

No response, just the minuscule movements. He’s mouthing something over and over, staying completely silent. Is he praying?

“Hey-” Eli looks over, feeling the icy fingers of concern crawling up his spine. “What’s going on?”

Koby shudders and moves away, pressing himself against the car door. He pulls his knees up and hides his face. His mumbling has gotten slightly louder, and this time Eli can make out the hastily whispered words:

“I want to go home…”