Neon is the Colour of Vengeance (Flappers and False Gods)

THE PLAN

Evan felt ridiculous as he waited for Hugo to come home, like some gangster’s moll. He laughed out loud at the thought. That was exactly what he was. A twist waiting for his man to come home.

He had long since sobered up from Rosecliff and regretted his words immensely; that didn’t mean they weren’t true. He was confused and conflicted. He wanted Hugo, but he didn’t know if he could cope with his lifestyle. It was the antithesis of the oath he had taken in medical school and went against what he tried to achieve every time he set foot in the clinic. None of that would matter if Hugo didn’t return.

It was getting late, or rather it was now early. The faux sun was beginning to rise, casting pitiful rays of dim orange light that filled the empty apartment. Hugo had been gone for hours, much longer than he ever had before. But what could he do? He had no way to contact Bobby, and he could hardly call the police. The only thing he could do was wait and hope Hugo came home.

He’d heard that it was hard to be a cop’s partner, that they lived in constant fear of the one they loved being killed on the job. As it turned out, it was the same if your partner was a hitman.

When Hugo finally came through the door it was after seven in the morning. He smelled of smoke, but he wasn’t bloody.

“Have you been standing there all night?” he asked, taking in Evan’s position on the rug.

“I was worried about you.”

“No need. I’m very good at what I do.” Hugo made a beeline for the bedroom, but Evan grabbed his arm.

“Don’t do that, don’t push me away. We need to talk.”

“About what? I can’t change what I am. I don’t want to. I told you months ago that you wouldn’t be able to handle it, and I was right. Even if I wanted to, there is no walking away from this life. You know where that leaves us? Nowhere.” It was like there were shutters behind Hugo’s eyes. Evan wanted to connect, but there was nothing there.

“That’s not what I want.”

“You need to make up your mind, because you’re giving me whiplash. You want me. You don’t want me. You can handle it. You can’t handle it. It’s fine when I have to work. It’s not fine. I don’t know jack about relationships, but are they supposed to be this hard?”

Evan looked Hugo up and down, shaking his head slightly. For a man that had seen and done things most normal people couldn’t even conceive of, he could be adorably, frustratingly, maddeningly, naive. “Nothing worth having comes without effort. I’m sorry for how I reacted at Rosecliff.”

“Are you, though? I don’t want you to just say it. I don’t want you to be sorry at all if that’s really how you feel.”

“I honestly don’t know how I feel. It’s like you’re two people. The one who makes me laugh, who makes me moan, who makes me feel safe, and the one with blood on his hands. Can’t I want one and not the other?”

Hugo shook his head. “They’re both me.”

“How do you do it?” They were getting dangerously close to answers that might end them. “I know I’ve asked before, but I really want to understand. Make you, both halves of you, make sense.” He was pleading for Hugo to give him a reason to stay.

“You want to love the monster and the man.” It was a statement. Their eyes met and neither looked away.

“You’re not a monster,” Evan said, but it didn’t quite ring true.

“Yes, I am. That’s how I do it. I don’t feel empathy for these people. They are just tasks. Jobs I have to complete. Names to cross off a list. I don’t care about them because I don’t see them—not really. They are dangers, they are enemies sometimes, but most of the time, they’re just unlucky, and I don’t care which.”

“How is that possible?” Evan couldn’t breathe. How could the man that held him tight and whispered sweet nothings in his ear be so cold?

“It’s all I know. I have been killing since before I had hairs on my chest. You have to tune it out or you’ll go mad. I don’t love the kill, I don’t crave it, and I certainly don’t get off on it, but I have no problem doing it.” He was defiant as he spoke, as if daring Evan to see him as anything other than a monster.

“It’s not white noise, it’s people’s lives.”

“Most of the time it’s not good people, but even if it was that wouldn’t make a difference.” Evan just stared at Hugo like he’d never seen him before. “You can’t see the man anymore, huh? It’s all monster from here on out.” He smiled sadly.

“How? How do you tune it out? You care about people. I know you care about Bobby and Gen and Samuel.”

“And you.”

“How can someone as loyal as you, someone as brave, someone who volunteers at a clinic, not care when he takes a life?”

“I don’t let myself see them as people. It’s as simple as that. They are targets; nothing more, nothing less.”

Evan was struggling to comprehend what he was hearing; it just didn’t make sense. “If this building was on fire, you would run in to save people. I know you would.”

“So?”

“Strangers!” Evan yelled. “I don’t understand the difference.”

“When a sniper takes out a target you don’t ask them how it makes them feel,” he said dismissively.

“You’re not a soldier and you’re not at war.”

“Yes, I am, and I have been my whole life. I might not be in a colonial army or in any of the domestic legions, but I am fighting. That’s what the underworld is—a war zone that nobody sees.”

“Do you feel guilty? Or proud?” Evan felt numb.

“Nothing to be proud of in my line of work other than the family I protect, and as for guilt—if I wanted to, I’m sure I could.”

“Could you kill Bobby or Gen? Or me? Could you just tune it out?”

“It’s not a switch.” His voice was fierce. “I care about all of you, and you already know I couldn’t kill you even if ordered to. I’ve proved that by the fact you’re still standing here.”

Evan took a step back. “Because you allowed me to live?”

“That’s not what I said,” Hugo protested quickly. “I don’t let myself care about the people I kill because I wouldn’t be able to get the job done. I don’t listen to their pleas when they beg for their lives, I don’t think about the families that they’ll leave behind. I don’t let myself see their humanity. That’s the big secret.”

“I feel sick,” Evan whispered.

Hugo didn’t move, he just stood where he was, like a statue, caught between his two lives.

“Do you really remember every name? You told me that when we first met.” It was like Hugo was a jigsaw with the last piece missing and no matter how hard Evan tried he couldn’t make it fit.

“Richard Brooks. Harry Levi. Herman Schults. Danny King. Samantha Wayland. Oscar Le Bron. Manny Garcia. Fong Wong. Marshall Grady. Taylor Fisk. Frederick Jones. Tyler Garret. Tatsuo Nomura. Durand Harvey. Doris Le Guin. Shayla Deveraux. Valerie Gosden?—”

“Stop. Please, stop.” Evan clutched his hand to his mouth, his head spinning.

“I am who I’ve always been. This is what I was raised to do. It’s all I’m good for.” He looked so lost.

“That is not true,” Evan said sharply. “Whoever told you that is a goddamned liar.”

“It is what it is.” Hugo moved uncomfortably. He was laid bare, there were no more secrets or taboos.

“Where does this leave us?” The words felt stupid coming out of Evan’s mouth. The man before him had just given a shocking confession that would have sent any sane person running in the opposite direction. Evan had seriously considered it, but the odd twisting in his stomach that appeared whenever he thought of being without Hugo stayed him.

“We work out how to get you your answers and you leave.”

“End of the road?” Evan’s chest tightened.

“I don’t see us moving past this, d’you?” When Evan didn’t answer, Hugo went on grimly. “It was nice having someone, being someone’s for a while.”

That was the first time in months that Evan slept in the guestroom, instead of with Hugo. He knew it was the right thing and yet he ached for the man who was only a few meters away through the wall. Hugo was a killer and a prolific one; Evan would never be able to get past that. He couldn’t pretend any longer that it didn’t bother him when Hugo left on a job or came home bloody. Their relationship had had an expiration date from the beginning, and they had long since passed it. Why then was the pain in Evan’s chest so intense it was almost physical? Why did the thought of packing up and leaving cause him to shudder?

When Evan got up, it was late into the afternoon. Hugo was sitting on the couch, projecting building plans into the space before him. He had showered and removed his suit in favour of lounge pants and nothing else, but it was clear he hadn’t slept. His eyes were red, and his shoulders slumped. There was a tiny, terrible part of Evan that was glad Hugo was hurting too.

“What are you doing?” he asked stiffly when Hugo didn’t acknowledge his presence.

“Looking at Dill Kelly’s apartment. If he killed your uncle himself, the only way to find out why is to ask him. I’ll need to find a way in.” Hugo didn’t look at him.

“I’m coming with you,” Evan said firmly.

“No. Not a chance in hell.”

“I’m not yours anymore. You don’t get to decide for me.” It was a low blow, but it was effective. Hugo visibly blanched. Good, that would make leaving easier.

“No,” he said again, his voice strained.

“This isn’t your choice.”

“Yes, it is,” he snapped. “You can’t do this without me, and I can’t protect you in there. If you want your answers, you are staying here.”

“You don’t get to give me orders, and I don’t want your protection.”

“You made that perfectly clear last night, thank you. But I’m not taking you in there.”

They glared at each other, so many unsaid things filling the space between them.

“I’ll go without you if I have to,” Evan said stubbornly.

“Don’t be an idiot, you’ll get yourself killed.”

Nettled, Evan retorted, “I’m not your boy toy, I can handle myself.”

“Not with Dill Kelly you can’t. You aren’t a family man, and you aren’t a trained fighter. He’s insane, a brutal murderer who loves inflicting pain, who would kill you before you could ask him a single question.”

“Sounds like someone else I know,” Evan said pointedly. Hugo went pale and Evan immediately regretted his words.

“Fine. I’ll take you, but you do what I say when I say it. We’ll go tonight, and then you can leave in the morning.” Hugo’s voice shook just a little. Anyone who didn’t know him well would have missed it, but Evan didn’t.

“Deal.” The wave of sadness that came over Evan threatened to buckle him, but he pushed it back. He nodded once then returned to his room. He managed to close the door before the first tear fell.