Page 12 of Game of Revenge

Kicking gravel, she tries to get away from me. Crouching low, I grab her by the throat and pull her nose to mine.

“Keep your mouth fucking shut, or I'll do the same to you.”

Letting her go, I turn back to my flesh and blood, grip my hair tight into my fists and begin to scream for help.

And the Oscar goes to… me.

Kiernan

Even though my eyes are closed, I keep replaying last night overand over. How everything started out fine, but turned into a horror show. He’s gone. The man I have loved over and over will never open his blue eyes again.

Tears clog my throat, and I begin to shake. I have seen some fucked up things in my life, but the massacre of the one I wanted to spend my days with will haunt me until I die. He didn’t deserve this.

“Should we wake him?” someone whispers nearby, but I’m not opening my eyes. Maybe if I just lay here things will be different. That the violent images in my head were just a fucked up nightmare.

Finding Mike screaming, and the backlot behind the bar full of ambulances, was not how I imagined our night ending.

But seeing Brian there on a stretcher not moving. Covered in blood. His face an unrecognizable mess.

They bashed his head in and pounded his dick. He had to have been in unimaginable pain. What did he ever do to them? Huh?

Because he chose to live his life. Be happy. I thought queer bashing was a thing of the past.

I guess this little town hasn't gotten the memo. But they will. I will make sure that Brian's death wasn't in vain.

He was filled with light, and now all that resides inside of me is darkness.

“No, let him sleep. Better to be in a state of delusion than here in reality,” Mike grunts.

Tray sighs, then I don't hear anything else as the door shuts.

Rolling over, I grab Brian's pillow and bring it to my chest, holding it. I wish it smelled like him, but he hasn't been home in a long time.

I know I need to get up. Start making calls and plans, but right now…

Im going to lay here and visualize what I'll do to those fuckers if I ever find out who killed my guy.

I must drift off again because Mike climbing into bed, wrapping me into his arms, wakes me.

“What time is it?” I croak. My throat aches from crying, and I need a drink.

“Almost midnight. I made you a sandwich if you're up for eating. It's on the side table.”

Rolling over to face him, I look into his eyes. Aside from them being a little red, he's fine.

“How are you not dying inside?”

Sighing, he flips onto his back. “I am, I’m just better at holding things in.”

Michael is the other half of Brian. They were brothers, twins even, yet he appears to be functioning fine.

Where’s the secret pill to forget, to stop feeling as if I’m lit on fire?

“That's not healthy, but I'm not in the right mind to push,” I mumble, then gasp as the pain hits again.

This hurts so bad. All I want is to be able to hug Brian again. I should have walked with him. I didn’t see the dangers that were hidden in the bar. I wish it were me.

“Shhh, it's okay, baby. I've got you. Everything will be fine. You're mine.”

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