Chapter Ten- Eyes of Death

I looked at Tommy in disbelief. "What?" My voice came out harsh and confused.

Tommy continued to stare at his hands. "Your father is alive."

"No," I said shaking my head, tears started pouring down my face. "He died nine years ago on April…"

Tommy cut me off. "Seventeenth." He finished.

I stared at him incredulously. "He was murdered…" I began.

"How do you know that?" He asked me, finally meeting my eyes.

"There is evidence…"

He didn't let me finish. "Evidence?" He said with a laugh. "An arm Jude, a man can function without an arm."

"Don't laugh at me." I said anger getting the best of me. "My father is dead and you are trying to say he's not."

"Jude," He began.

"No." I said pushing him. I was so angry, so hurt. "How do you know he's not dead, how do you know…"

Tommy cut me off. "Because I helped kidnap him."

I didn't yell, I didn't do anything, I just stood there. I looked at Tommy and I felt sick.

"I don't," I began feeling dead inside. "Understand."

Tommy never looked so ashamed; he was avoiding my eyes completely.

"Nine years ago I started working in this business." He said quietly. "I was seventeen and stupid. I wanted to be like my older brother." He explained. "My first like really big job was on the seventeenth of April." He looked at me for a moment. "They never really explain the background of the people just basics. Name, status, children, the usual." He said quietly. "All I knew was that his name was Stuart Harrison, married, one child." He looked at me for a fleeting moment. "The whole point of the abducting was making sure he looked like he had been murdered. We found him walking home from work."

This brought back memories and I felt tears enter my eyes. Every Friday instead of taking the car he walks to and from work. It was his one way to be alone; it was something that was his own. He always looked forward to it.

Tommy continued. "We sedated him; made sure he was knocked out and cut off his arm. We made sure he hadn't felt anything, it would hurt when he woke up but it would be nothing compared to the pain he would feel during the cutting." Tommy winced when he said that. "The people running this, the ones above David, they need your father for something, he's useful to them somehow." He shrugged helplessly. "I'm surprised the police didn't look into this case too much, finding a missing arm doesn't usually mean case close."

I never felt so disgusted in my life. It took everything in me, to not scream at him but I needed answers. "Did you ever talk to him?" I finally asked him.

He shook his head. "He was still knocked out the last time I saw him."

I continued to stare at my hands. "Did you cut off his arm?" I asked him feeling sicker by the second.

"No." Tommy said softly. "I didn't even see them do it." He assured me. "I had to watch the roads to make sure no one would pass by and see what was happening."

I remember vaguely mom saying that people riding their bikes saw his arm on the side of the road.

"Jude," He began coming towards me.

"I hate you." I said quietly.

Tommy froze and looked at me. "Jude," He pleaded.

"You are the reason I didn't have a father for nine years." I screamed. "Nine years Tommy, for nine years I heard my mom cry every night, for nine years I didn't give anyone a gift for fathers day, for nine years I had to go to a home that everything in it reminded me of him, for nine years I thought every person I saw was his murderer." I went silent and then looked at him accusingly. "How could you not tell me this until now?" I demanded.

Tommy looked shocked. "I just found out."

"I'm sure," I said, feeling tears come down my face. "You get background information right? Jude Harrison, one mom no dad, is it that hard to put together?"

"All I knew about you was your birthday and that your sixteen nothing else." He said looking at me. "How was I supposed to know Jude?" He asked me. "It happened nine years ago," He began desperately. "How was I supposed to know it would lead to this moment?" He asked in frustration. "How was I supposed to know his one child was you?" He asked me.

I silently glared at him. "I kissed you." I said softly, feeling every part of me he touched was diseased.

"Jude," He began coming towards me. "That kiss was real, this is real." He said reaching out to touch my face but I violently pulled away.

"Don't touch me." I said shrilly.

Tommy stepped back.

"You can't make this right." I said looking at him, the anger dying in me; now replacing it was hurt and betrayal. "You are not the man I thought you were." I turned to leave.

"Jude your dad's alive, hate me but he's alive." Tommy said quietly trying to make a point.

"How do you know he's alive?" He was about to say something but I didn't let him. "How do you know they didn't kill two years ago or the day you kidnapped him?" I demanded.

Tommy was quiet, he finally spoke up. "I don't know." He admitted. "But he's important I know that."

"How do you know?" I asked him, frustrated but primarily tired.

"The way they kept saying don't kill him, what ever you do do not kill him. He's important, they need his help." He said desperately.

"My dad would never work for these people." I said angrily.

"How close were you to your father?" He asked me. Accusing me of not knowing my own father.

I thought of the man in the suit asking me that very question. "Fuck you." I said quietly and started to walk away. Tommy grabbed my hand but I snatched it away.

I began to run.

I knew Tommy was chasing after me but I continued to speed up, so much anger, confusion, and pain was boiling up inside me. I finally began to loose my breath and stopped to relax. It was dark and they it finally hit me I was alone in the woods. I must of gone deep in the forest because I could barely see the sky and it was deathly quiet. I heard a branch break and turned around expecting it to be Tommy.

I was wrong.

"Jude I told you your death would be your fault." I stared at man in front of me. It was David, his face was exposed; he looked slightly deranged. He raised his hand and I saw he was holding something. I went cold. "I warned you." And he pointed the gun right at my head.

This is what it must be like looking in the eyes of death.