Chapter 7
Nicholas’s POV
Kylie’s face moved funny when it hurt. Her muscles all twisted up like a crumpled drawing.
I liked that.
It meant she remembered him finally.
I pressed the iron rod deeper into her skin, branding his name in crooked lines. The metal hissed. Her scream bounced around the room.
“Now you’ll never forget him,” I said.
“Ahhh! Cameron…!” She was crying so hard she couldn’t breathe.
Snot, blood, spit–her whole face was messy. Ugly.
“I was wrong! Please! I’ll send Trevor away, I swear he’ll be gone! We’ll redo the wedding. It’s gonna be huge! Fancy! You can be the groom! Anything! Just please!”
“Shhh…”
I crouched down, took a tissue from the table, and wiped her face slowly and carefully.
“You’re too late,” I said.
My voice stayed soft. My hand didn’t shake.
“My brother can’t hear you anymore.”
I leaned closer, my breath near her ear.
“Maybe if you die, you can ask him yourself. See if he forgives you.”
I returned to the stove, picked up the rod, and held it to the flame until it glowed red–bright and alive like a bit of sun.
“You made him kneel all the time, didn’t you?” I asked, tilting my head. “You even said it was to teach him to be good. Well, now you can kneel too.”
“Forever.”
And then I brought it down hard.
The rod smashed into her knee. I heard the crack before she screamed. Her body dropped like a broken puppet.
Then she stopped moving.
Her fingers twitched a little like they hadn’t figured it out yet.
I stood still, listening.
The room was quiet except for the sirens, which were far away but getting closer.
It didn’t matter. I had already done it.
She’d never forget him now.
I carefully adjusted the angles of their twisted limbs, ensuring every fracture matched the injuries listed in my brother’s autopsy report.
I couldn’t let them die. That would be too easy.
Charter &
9:21 pm G DDD
I wanted them to feel every bit of pain Cameron had endured while still alive.
When the police burst through the door, I was curled up in a corner, my face full of terror.
There was still dried blood under my fingernails, just enough to smear across my face.
“Help me…”
I trembled like a ragdoll, tears washing streaks through the bloodstains on my cheeks.
“They went crazy… they tried to kill me…”
The stench of charred flesh filled the house. Officers began gagging, some even vomiting from
the unbearable smell.
Cold handcuffs snapped around my wrists, and I shrank back, following them obediently like a frightened child into the police car.
Third POV
In the ICU, Trevor and Kylie somehow managed to survive.
Trevor lay flat on the hospital bed, a thick breathing tube jammed down his throat.
Each labored breath rasped, like sandpaper being dragged across raw lungs, his wheezing sharp and desperate, like a broken bellows.
His lips were cracked and purple, with dried blood at the corners of his mouth, as if he’d tried to speak but couldn’t summon the words.
That mouth that once lied so smoothly, whispering sweet nothings into ears that didn’t belong to him, now hung open, useless.
What a pity. He’d never charm anyone with that mouth again.
Kylie, on the other hand, didn’t resemble herself anymore. She looked more like something hastily wrapped for the morgue, still twitching by some cruel accident.
Her knees were wrapped in thick gauze, but yellowish pus seeped through, soaking into the bandages and giving off a nauseating, rotting stench.
“Ms. Langford’s wounds are severely infected. We’ll need to clean them out again,” the nurse said flatly, lifting the blanket.
That’s when they discovered the jagged, burned character scarred into her chest–the name Cameron–blackened and curling like a grotesque curse.
The attending physician frowned and peeled back the bandages on her knee.
Kylie’s body jerked violently, and a broken, guttural moan squeezed from her throat. Her eyes trembled wildly in their bruised sockets, but she lacked the strength to fight back.
Her cracked, pale lips kept moving faintly, repeating something repeatedly.
Curious, the nurse leaned closer to listen.
After a moment, she straightened up, a look of confusion crossing her face. “I think she’s saying…I was wrong. I’ll be good?”
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