The rope I used on Hazel is being wrapped around my wrists as my knees dig into the concrete floor. I’m furious that the alarm system I set up didn’t go off. I wonder if he had it hacked somehow so they could surprise us.
Hate fills my chest as I stare up into the soulless eyes of my brother. He’s enjoying this.
“Remember when we were little, and father used to have us fight each other until one of us was bleeding?” He asks, looming over me. “You were always walking away with minimal injuries. But me? You’d make sure I looked weak in front of our father.” He sneers, teeth flashing as he grabs hold of my throat, fingers closing tightly around my windpipe. “But who’s the weak one now?”
His fist crunches into my cheekbone with a force that knocks me down and makes my ears ring. My vision blurs and eyes tear up with the spasm that wracks down my face from his well-placed hit.
“And now, I’m father’s favorite.” He rolls his shoulders back, obviously satisfied with himself. He’s always been a little prick of a peacock, fluffing his public image. When deep down inside lives a twisted and tortured soul. Intent of inflicting his wrath on those who dare to cross him. In that respect, the two of us are alike, but at least I have a fucking conscious about what I do.
“You think I give a shit about that fucker’s approval? I beat the shit out of you because I could.” I respond, head splitting with pain and worry clawing at my gut.
“I bet you’re wondering how we got past your defenses, little brother. Go on ask me.”
I sigh, face pulsating where he hit me. “How?”
His smile flashes with cruelty as he delivers a blow I wasn’t expecting. “I used Jenson. Picked his little brain clean before I shot his head clear off.”
“Shut up.” I thrash on the ground, trying to get to him, but it’s no use. The news hits me straight in the gut. The man who’s been like a brother to me, taken out for being connected to me. I think I’m going to be sick.
“So fucking predictable. It’s disgusting.” He cracks his knuckles. “Part of me wants you to see what I’m going to do with your little toy, but I think leaving you to wonder about it is worse. Pity you won’t see the moment the light leaves her eyes though.”
“You fucking touch her, and you’re dead.” I spit out. Anger and a feeling of helplessness grips me by the throat. He could hurt her, and I’m stuck again. Taken away from her while she’s faced with my psychopath brother.
The last time he almost killed her, but now I know her death is a sure thing. The smallest sliver of hope burns beneath my ribs, knowing that at least one thing is different than last time. She’s been training, feral at the thought of taking Kyle down. The man responsible for the majority of her suffering.
“Oh, I’m going to do so much more than touch her, little brother. But you?” He reaches down and grabs me by the hair, making me look directly into his eyes. “You better get used to being restrained, because where you’re going, you’ll be wearing them all the time.”
“What the fuck do you mean?”
“I offered to kill you, you know. But father thought it best that we have you locked up. That way, you have to live with the knowledge of what happens when you cross us. First Jenson, and now your little girlfriend. Had you just left us alone, this would never have happened. So really, you did this to them.”
His laugh is full of malice.
“You’ve always been a bastard, Kyle.”
“That might be true, but at least I’m not going to jail.”
He goes to open the door, and in comes the sheriff from Kingston.
“He’s all yours, sheriff.” Kyle says.
He’s aged significantly since the last time I saw him. Hairline receding and the tuft of hair that’s left has turned stark white. His stomach pushes out, making his button-down uniform pull at the seams, threatening to bust at any moment.
“Good job there, Kyle. I’ll see you at the Christmas parade.” Kyle watches intently as the restraints are switched to handcuffs. “You have the right to remain silent…”
His words muffle in my ears as I stare down my brother. Jenson, Sarah. River, Matty.
The list of kills that lay at his feet are people he took from me. I refuse to add Hazel’s name to that list.
This time, when I vow to end him, I won’t hesitate. Fuck torturing him. He deserves a one-way ticket to hell, and I’m going to send him there.
CHAPTER 38
HAZEL
27 YEARS OLD
The dayI turned eighteen was the day I first started cutting. It began as a way to focus my internal torment, outward. The pain had built up to a point inside of me that it needed somewhere to go. So, I took the edge of a razor blade and let the hurt seep out of me.
