Salty tears kissed Emmett's lips, and he wasn't sure if they were his own or Kaz's. Sorrows from his past clung to Emmett's eyelids and cheeks like dew. His poor eyes burned from crying.

When was the last time he ever let his emotions overwhelm him like that? It had been years ago. The drugs always suppressed that pain, but they weren't enough anymore. Maybe Emmett needed to up his dosage. His mind must've grown tolerant of them, that had to be it. There was always an explanation. Emmett knew what he really needed to feel better was a goddamn lobotomy to erase the damage done to him.

Kazimir curled up against him, with his tears and snot smeared all over his shirt. They were such a fucking mess. It made Emmett genuinely smile. His heart swelled with more love than he'd ever felt for anything when he kissed his boyfriend's forehead. When Emmett confided in his past, it was like he transferred some of his own pain to him. And Emmett hated that, yet a tiny burden lifted off his shoulders. Kaz knew and he still loved him regardless.

Earlier, Kaz baked some delicious peanut butter cookies for him. Apparently, they were going to be a surprise for him later but Kaz thought he deserved them now. Emmett hadn't left their bedroom since the revelation of those photos, but Kaz assured him that they knew everything was okay. His outburst probably gave away his dark secret, but Emmett knew his people wouldn't judge him for it. Not unless they had a death wish.

With a soft groan, Emmett forced himself out of bed. He combed his mop of blond hair to make himself presentable again. One glimpse into his dresser mirror and he came face to face with a zombie. He staggered down the hall, shaking his head in amusement at the bathroom door before entering. Emmett needed to fix it later.

Emmett ran some icy water in the sink and splashed some in his face. The chill felt heavenly against his burning eyes as he snatched up a washcloth, wiping away all the crusted tears. Then, he got high.

Newfound confidence radiated in Emmett as made his way down the hallway, head held high when he stepped into the kitchen. His gaze landed on the counter, where they'd viewed the photos again. They were gone. Emmett frowned, hoping nobody tossed them away yet. He needed to find out where they came from.

"Hey, where the hell did those pictures go?" Emmett asked, peeking into their lounging room.

Curious doe-eyed looks irritated Emmett, awaiting an answer from his people. Finally, Alfie retrieved the envelope wedged beneath piled up magazines on the coffee table. His right-hand hesitated before handing them over, yet he said nothing.

"Thank you." Emmett peeled back the seal, flipping through each individual image.

"Boss," Charlie said, frowning. "You ain't gotta look through that shit."

"I won't puke my guts out again, if you're concerned. Don't worry, I'm high as fuck right now. None of this matters to me." Emmett continually examined each image as his stomach lurched. The further he got through the photos, the more graphic they got. "Funny how some of these, I don't even remember. I was such a popular little child star back then. All the perverts wanted me."

"That's fucking sick," Charlie muttered.

Emmett flipped one of the photos around, examining the logo. Recognition clicked. They were developed downtown, at that little drug store in the Black Vipers territory. Back home, he knew of photo developers who printed off their filth. It was for the old-timers who didn't want to remain digital.

"How fascinating." Emmett marveled.

"What is it?" Alfie asked, concern filled his eyes.

"Someone had these professionally developed," Emmett replied. "The store's logo is on all of them. If we're lucky, we might be able to find the fucker who printed them out."

"Are you serious?" Alfie gaped. "They printed that out for them? Ain't that illegal? They could shut their store down for that."

"Perverts don't think rationally." Emmett stacked the photos nicely together, tucking them back into the envelope. "They'll do anything they can to wank off to their warped fantasies. It's been so many years, I can't believe these still circulate on the web. Someone dug really deep for them."

"Why would they do that?" Alfie asked. "Do you think our killer is someone connected to your past?"

"I never considered that." Emmett gripped the envelope. "Weird how they targeted Mal when I'm right here. And for these to arrive after I killed those pedos back at Kaufman's residence only makes it more suspicious. I wonder who it could be."

"Did any of those rapists ever show more attention to you than others?" Alfie asked, cringing afterward. "Shit, sorry."

Emmett raised a brow. "What do you mean?"

"You know." Alfie made frenetic hand gestures, as if expecting him to fill in the blanks. "Were any of them obsessed with you? Maybe to the point of stalking you all these years."

"Hmm, I'm not sure. If I'm being honest, most of these guys blended together. A lot of them were cops or retired cops," Emmett admitted. "So it would be easier for them to have access to find these. But I can't think of anyone offhand who would follow me for this long."

"I see."

"I don't think they'd be too interested in me now either," Emmett scoffed. "A bit too old for their tastes."

Alfie made a face of disgust. "Gross."

"Whoever printed these off wanted to rattle me up," Emmett explained. "Now, as to whether or not they kept some copies for their jack-off collection is another story. New Syracuse is full of fucking pedos. I thought I could escape that shit, but it's everywhere."

"Emmett." Alfie's expression softened. "If you need someone to check that store out, I can do it."

"Sure, you can tag along. I'd rather not get Kaz involved in this." Emmett tucked the envelope in his breast pocket. "Come on. Let's quit burning daylight."

In Emmett's truck, Alfie fiddled with the radio before asking, "You good, man?"

"Peachy. I'm not that little kid anymore, so don't worry. The world toughened me up. I know better now."

"You didn't deserve that. Nobody does."

"Can I ask you a personal question?" Emmett's voice softened, gaze remained glued on the road ahead of them.

"Yeah, what's up?" Alfie asked.

"If you dated a chick and learned she'd been through similar shit as me, would you look at her differently?"

"I mean, I'd be fucking pissed. I'd wanna kill the fuckers who hurt her," Alfie replied. "Might be a little more careful touching her, ya know? To not trigger anything. Why? Did Kaz say something or..?"

"No, Kaz has been nothing but supportive and sweet. Not really used to that either." Emmett chuckled, color tinting his cheeks.

"I'm glad. If he'd been a jerk about it, I'd have had to kill him."

"Don't worry, Kaz would never betray or harm me," Emmett dismissed. "I just wish I knew who sent these damn photos and where they got them from. Nothing ever disappears off the Internet, but older shit is harder to dig up. Someone really took their time with this."

"About that boss, I'm no expert or anything when it comes to that crap, but is it possible those images have not stopped circulating around?" Alfie asked.

Emmett frowned. "What are you implying? You think my photos are still famous on the dark web or some shit? Even after all these years?"

"I mean, it's possible, isn't it?" Alfie replied. "Like, you're thinking it took someone a long time to find them, but maybe it didn't. There's so many... It's fucking sick. I dunno, maybe I'm far off."

"No, you could be right." Emmett sighed. "I need someone tech savvy to check for me. Maybe they could do an image reverse search on them? Find the origins and how many times they've been shared."

"Yeah, that's possible."

When pulled up to the old drug store and parked his truck, nerves squirmed in the pit of his stomach. Someone allowed those photos to be printed off. Maybe it was an employee involved or just another creepy pervert who got a kickback off of them.

A bell chimed when Emmett stepped inside the musty store, with Alfie following close behind him. Rows of snacks lined the shelves near the entrance, and when he glanced around, he found the printer section in the back corner.

"Hello, how can I help you guys today?" An older, obsese man grinned, exposing cavity-rotted teeth that made Fatlard's shine in comparison.

"Did you print these?" Emmett asked, sliding the envelope across the counter.

As the man's fat fingers plucked those photos out, Emmett watched his expression closely. Lust fogged his bugged-out eyes. He licked his lips, lingering gaze focused on an old photo of Emmett being taken from behind. Fucking pedophile. Emmett reached a hand into his overcoat pocket, fingers brushing over the blade of his switchblade. Despite the anger bubbling up in his chest, he inhaled a sharp breath and kept his cool.

"We're huge fans of that little one." Emmett leered, leaning up against the counter. "A friend gave us these. I wanted to know if there's more and where we might find them."

Drool dribbled from the man's lips, and he hurried to swipe it away. Conflicted emotions twisted in his lustful, nervous expression. It took everything within Emmett not to reach across the counter and slit his throat. He needed answers. That fucking pervert knew.

"A customer brought these to me this morning," he whispered. "I don't know the boy's name, but I wish I did. The things I'd make him do..."

"You think you could make me some copies at least?" Emmett smirked. "Or maybe you could take me around back and show me some prints that he left behind?"

Like an obedient dog, the man led Emmett around back to the store's breakroom. Emmett instructed Alfie to wait for him at the counter. He didn't need any backup for this.

"So, are little blond, blue-eyed boys your type?" Emmett asked.

"Uh-huh." The man rummaged through his backpack, revealing more photos of Emmett in various, disturbing stages. Some of those poses Emmett vividly remembered his uncle setting up. Like the Christmas one. He always made him do holiday specials. "Wish I could touch that soft skin of his. I'd make him mine. Just look at that sweet boy. Those blue eyes."

Emmett's eyes were green, but it wasn't like that creep paid any attention. His lewd gaze only remained in one place.

"My eyes are green, dumbass."

"What?"

In a swift motion, Emmett yanked out his switchblade and plunged it through the man's bulging crotch. His yelp of pain echoed through the breakroom as Emmett stabbed him between the legs again and again. The heavy-set man reeled back, collapsing to the floor in a heap of tears as he clutched his precious family jewels. Crimson seeped through the fabric of his tan pants.

"You got security footage in this shithole?" Emmett asked, nudging his whimpering face with his foot. "I need to see who brought these in."

The man sniveled on the floor, trembling. Pathetic. Emmett drew his foot back and kicked him in the stomach. He grunted, sniffling and pleading to spare his life.

"Quit being such a little bitch," Emmett spat. "Tell me who brought these photos to you. You've got connections to the pedos, don'tcha? Just give me a name. I might even let you live. Castrated, of course."

"I-I don't know. He paid cash," the man whimpered. "I swear, I don't know him. He let me keep these. I have problems, and these help me."

Emmett tossed his head back with a laugh. "Oh, that's a good one. Never heard that before. Did my suffering help you wank off? Just a minute ago, you said you'd do all kinds of fucked up shit to me." Emmett crouched down with a sinister smirk, knife pointed to his crotch. "But I don't think you've got the balls to do it."

A sickening squelch echoed in Emmett's ears when he drove the knife back down onto the man, sprinkling blood all over the place when he retracted it. How many times would it take to kill him? Crimson snakes streamed through the man's trousers. He rocked on the floor, sobbing and hyperventilating.

"I used to do the same thing," Emmett said. "Begging never worked. You get to see how it felt for me."

"I'm sorry," he whimpered. "I never would have... done this. I'd have loved you, Emmett."

What a fucking dumbass. Why did those creeps think their abuse was love? Emmett drove his switchblade into the man's thick neck, tearing into the flesh like a rabid animal. They forced him to pleasure them. They made him despise every inch of himself. Drugs were his only salvation. At least, they gave him some of his control back. Much like killing did.

Only when the man quit resisting and breathing did Emmett give up. He wasn't going to give him anymore information, but at least he had a vague description to keep an eye out for. Before leaving, Emmett cleaned his blade in the sink and collected the rest of those photos. He wouldn't need them in hell.