Paper and pen. He wants us to write everything? Seriously?
Damn. This makes me worried about the person who hired Tox. Is Tox being watched to ensure that the task is done? He’s afraid we’re being listened to right now.
In my house.
My nostrils flare, and I cross over to my desk and grab two pads of papers and pens. I hand one of each to Tox and start to write.
Mitchel is a great kid, but his mom had apparently been torn between two guys when she became pregnant. She wasn’t married yet, and she thought the man she then became engaged to and married, Thomas Lionnel, was the father. At the time, no one questioned it, and they were very happy.
When Mitchel turned nine, he became sick. They tested his parents to see if they were a match. They weren’t, so they opened it up to outsiders.
The other guy was a match.
When his mom, Sally, found out, she freaked out. She wanted to have DNA testing done to see if Mitchell was Thomas’s or the other man, but she didn’t want anyone to know. She didn’t want there to be a scandal involved if it could be helped.
I’m not done writing yet, but Tox stands behind me, reading. I watch his face as he reads, and then he nods, and I get back to writing.
She asked me to come and take Mitchel for the day. We went out, had some fun, saw a movie, ate ice cream, and then I took him to a place she told me to so that a doctor could draw blood. Convoluted? Yes, but I’m not going to complain about it. The movie was good, the ice cream delicious, and like I said, Mitchel’s a great kid.
I wait, and when Tox is done reading, he makes a gesture for me to keep going.
I purse my lips and scratch the back of my head. I already said—well, wrote—more than I should’ve.
I signed an NDA.
He blinks and then nods.
I really shouldn’t.
For the first time, he writes. You don’t have to.
Thomas is the father. It’s just a strange bit of chance that the other guy could help out when the mom and dad couldn’t. Someone else was a match too, and that’s the person who donated for Mitchell in the end. Oh, and the other guy did threaten to go public about the whole situation when the Lionnels went with the other person, so it was smart of Sally to find out and have proof that Thomas was the father because they could shoot him down and shut him up before he said anything because of threatening legal action if he slandered them.
I eye Tox, rip off the paper, hand it for him to read, and then start to write on another piece of paper.
Just because I’m a bounty hunter doesn’t mean that I accept every single job. I don’t go after every bounty. Have my methods been a bit daring at times? Yes. Have I killed people? Yes. Do I feel guilty for killing them? Some, yes, but others… I became a bounty hunter because I want to try to make the world a safer place. I’m sure that sounds like a bunch of bull, but it’s the truth. I would never kidnap a kid. I might bring people who are unwilling from place to place, but not a kid. I have some enemies, and the author of the articles you read or the people you talked to about me who told you about Mitchel, they don’t know me. They don’t want to know me. They just see me as a monster.
I hesitate.
The day we met, that was the first day that I ever killed someone that there wasn’t a bounty for. Some goons came after me because I brought their boss in to see the government. They wanted to take me out so that they could climb up the ladder, so to speak. They wanted revenge, and they were going to kill me. One of the guys, I don’t know. Maybe he wasn’t too bad, but the other… I wasn’t sure how else to get out of it, so I just ended up getting one to shoot the other, and I killed the bad one. Then I killed the good one too. He was going to die anyhow. I just helped him along.
Before I can think better of it, I rip off this sheet and hand it to him. I steadfastly stare at the carpet as he reads, not wanting to know what he’ll think of me. He might very well want to kill me. How can he believe that I want to make the world a better place? Sure, I can tell him that I almost exclusively work for the Global Countries of Earth, but he can come to his own conclusions.
Tox slowly nods as he reads, and then he stares at me. He doesn't say or do anything, doesn't write anything.
Aren’t you going to react at all? I write.
I’m wondering how you’re going to buy me off.
I purse my lips. How much am I worth? What’s the bounty?
A house.
I tap the words on his paper. Seriously? He would get paid in the form of a house?
The perfect house for me and my family one day.
My stomach clenches for some reason. I don't bother to try to examine my feelings. I don't want to know why I feel like I need to tell him so very much about my past, more than I ever should have, and I don't want to know why I feel a bit… I don't even know how I feel about him wanting to have a house for a family if that house requires me to be dead. It shouldn't matter to me one way or the other. He wants to have a future. Who
