Lost Memories: Manhunt

Etienne steps out of the bathroom after finishing his bath, only to find Byron already dressed—zipping up his pants and slipping into his gray shirt. Noticing Etienne watching him, Byron smirks, fastens his smartwatch, and moves on to putting on his shoes.

"Where are you going? It's midnight." Etienne leans against the wall, still trying to figure out whether Byron is as bad as Charles claimed. When there were no barriers between them, his touch was so gentle—far from harmful.

"I told you before," Byron slides his feet into his shoes—still wearing the same party clothes. "I have a client who hired me for this job."

"Why won't you take me along?"

"Into the dark forest in the middle of nowhere? No way." Byron is ready to leave but pauses, stepping closer to press a kiss on Etienne's forehead—then his lips. Of course, he wouldn't miss those plump, irresistible lips.

"I'll be back," Byron says, turning to leave. Etienne clings to his hand until the growing distance forces him to let go.

Before stepping out, Byron drops a key on the table near the door. "This is the key to the room. Keep yourself safe, okay?"

"Oh? You're not locking me in? You'll cry when you come back and find me gone," Etienne teases.

"I know where to find you if you leave me. I'm just worried about how you'll be gone. I hope it's not because of Gion," Byron smirks and closes the door. A soft click follows as he locks it.

Even after Byron starts his motorcycle in the parking lot, Etienne stands by the window, puffing on a cigarette, his gaze never once drifting away from Byron. The man smiles at him before revving the engine and riding off into the night.

"Mr. Bellamy," Charles's voice crackles through the right earring. "Get dressed and leave the motel."

"What?" Etienne sulks. He just wants to sleep right now—in the sexiest pose—so that when Byron returns, the passion will pick up right where they left off.

"Seriously, get out of the motel. Now," Charles commands, his tone sharp with irritation.

Etienne shrugs and slips into the only outfit he has at the moment—a black, sexy gown with a golden chain clinging around his waist. He then wraps himself in a trench coat for warmth, locks the door behind him, and steps out of the motel.

"I'm out. What now?" Etienne sighs.

"Look to your right and walk until you reach a gas station," Charles instructs.

Whatever the cops say, do it. Etienne strides down the road in high heels, the night illuminated only by the moonlight and scattered street lamps. After a few hundred meters, he finally spots the glowing lights of the gas station.

Just as he reaches it, Charles's voice comes through again. "Go to the back of the mini-mart at the gas station."

Etienne obediently follows the direction.

"Do you see a black van?" Charles asks.

"Yeah, your van. The one where your guy, Danny, implanted a tracker in my tooth. You want me to get in?"

"Yes. Get in, quick!"

***

Byron rode his motorcycle into the dark forest, the only light coming from his headlights. He checked his pinpoint again to make sure he was on the right path. Leaving Etienne at the motel gave him some relief. If anything went wrong—if the police were tailing him and things turned into a shootout—Etienne wouldn't be caught in the crossfire. If Byron didn't make it back, at least Etienne had the key and was free to go.

More importantly, keeping Etienne out of this meant he knew nothing about Byron's clients—where they were or what they looked like. That alone would protect him if John Kaspar decided to dig deeper and hire someone to track down the people involved. If that happened, Etienne would be in the clear, safe from both the police and John Kaspar himself.

Byron knew firsthand how ruthless John Kaspar could be. The man didn't hesitate to spill blood to keep his business running smoothly. If he felt betrayed, he wouldn't think twice about getting rid of Etienne—even if he was his secret lover.

Finally, Byron arrived at the pinpoint location his clients had sent him. The campsite was small, dimly lit by a crackling fire. Everything seemed quiet.

But as he stepped closer, his eyes widened in shock.

His two clients lay motionless on the forest floor, their eyes open, unblinking. Their faces were swollen from blunt trauma, blood pooling beneath them and streaking down from fresh wounds.

Someone had killed them.

Byron crouched beside the bodies, scanning the scene. From their broken fingers and battered faces, it was clear they had been tortured before they died. This wasn't just a killing—it was an interrogation.

It wasn't the police. If law enforcement had caught them, they would've been arrested, locked away, maybe roughed up a little—but not like this.

No, this was the work of someone with power. Someone who didn't need the law on their side because they owned it.

John Kaspar Gion.

Byron sat on a dead tree branch, rubbing his fingers through his hair slowly, as if it might help him piece together the answer to one important question—how did John Kaspar know about this location?

Did he hack into his phone? Did somebody leak it?

It didn't matter now. The truth was, nobody was left to deliver the diamond GOLIX watch back to Ranggolan. Nobody was left to turn it into money to help the families of the miners who had died.

No one.

No one but himself.

Byron had to hurry.

Whoever had killed his clients—Oscar and Jango—there was a good chance they would come after him next. And if they were after the watch, that meant Etienne could be in danger, too.

He had no choice. He might have to leave Etienne behind and cancel their trip together. At least for now.

***

2:12 AM...

"It was to catch him at his most vulnerable moment, just as you instructed. You do know how men sleep like babies after a good round, right?" Etienne purred, tapping a manicured nail against his hip.

"But he didn't fall asleep, did he?" Charles shot back, his voice tight with frustration. "You could've just slipped the damn pills into his drink like I told you!"

"I didn't want to do that! It could've hurt him!" Etienne shot back, his gaze steady.

"It wouldn't have hurt him," Charles countered, folding his arms, his frustration spilling over.

While the two beautiful men bickered, Danny casually sipped his espresso, scrolling through sexy pictures of his favorite thick-thighed singer. His arm device—a sleek, intergalactic police-issued scanner—suddenly beeped, signaling an urgent call from their satellite surveillance team.

"Remi, what's up?" Danny answered.

"Where's the detective?" the woman on the line asked.

"Oh, he…" Danny glanced over his shoulder.

Charles was still fuming, his voice low but cutting. "No one told you to sleep with him. And you sure as hell didn't need to put on a whole damn show."

Etienne gasped theatrically, pressing his fingertips to his lips. "Oh? What's this? Annoyance? Displeasure? That man barely even look at you, huh?"

Danny cleared his throat, bringing his attention back to the call. "He's busy giving instructions. Is it urgent?"

"Yes. Remember those Gion men driving into the forest?"

"Yeah? Any updates?"

"They had a shorter route back, but instead, they turned toward the motel. You might want to warn the spy to leave now. They're armed."

Danny let out a long sigh. "I'll inform the detective. Thanks, Remi."

Charles tried to be mean, sneering, "Seems like they were right—actors really are just glamorous sluts!"

But Etienne wasn't about to run out of sharp words—he still had plenty of ammunition. His eyes burned with anger as he shot back, "Must be killing you, huh? Stuck in that closet, watching someone else get exactly what you want."

"Ladies," Danny cuts, "I mean, gentle men, I got bad news. Gion men who are rallying to the forest, now they move back to the motel direction."

"Damn! Ivan, get us out of here!" Charles commands the driver which following the order obidiently, he put back his expresso on the cup holder beside the steering wheel and starts the van. Waiting for the right moment to hit the gas and move.

"Where are you going? Byron isn't here!" Etienne worried. 

"They are going back to motel and they won't find what they want, they will surely search to the nearest places, which is here. We need to leave as soon as we can."

"Byron will come back and they will be waiting for him in the motel with bullets---"

Charles shoved his chest against Etienne's, his voice sharp. "If you're that worried about him, then call him!"

"Oh right... I forgot I got his number..." Etienne operated his cellphone, but then he realized that he left them in the motel.

Etienne knew it was dangerous, but he still reached for the van's door and flung it open.

"What are you doing?!" Danny shouted, but before he could stop him, Etienne had already jumped out of the van.

Charles quickly ran after him, catching up just in time to block his path before he could leave the gas station completely. "Etienne, don't be stupid! You'll get yourself killed! They don't care that you're a famous actor. They can buy the law, and Gion has been behind countless cold cases—including the unsolved disappearances of celebrities!"

"I'll figure out how to save him! At least I'm not leaving him alone in trouble!"

Just as Etienne was about to take off toward the motel again, Charles grabbed his wrist and shoved a phone into his hand. "That's his number. Call him. But not on my phone—use that public phone over there."

Charles left, and Etienne checked the screen, only to see the contact saved under a wet eggplant emoji. He rolled his eyes. "I knew it. Why don't you just admit it? Fucking denial."

***

Byron was driving home when his smartwatch beeped, signaling an incoming call. The number was unknown, but the format didn't look like it was from a regular cellphone—it seemed to be from a public communication device.

He pressed the accept button, and the call transferred to his Bluetooth earpiece.

"Who is this?"

"Byron?" Etienne's voice came through the other end.

"Babe, I'm on my way back to the motel. Why are you calling from a public phone? Did you lose your phone?"

"Gion's men are coming to the motel, and I had to run to the nearest gas station. I left my phone at the motel. Byron, no matter what you do, do not come back." Etienne's voice was urgent.

Byron's expression darkened. "So it really was them, huh? Don't worry, babe. Just stay where you are—I'll come pick you up."

With that, he ended the call.