Page 3 of Come Out, Come Out

I’m not ready for this euphoria to end. I decide to play with him a bit. After all, he’s owed a bit of torment for all he’s done.A taste of his own medicine.“Twenty, nineteen, eighteen . . .” I start counting down and he just stares at me. His eyes are glassy and his lips tremble despite how he clenches his jaw, holding on to that last bit of fragile masculinity. I’m excited to tear it to shreds. “Are you going to just sit there and start crying, or are you going to put up a bit of a fight?” I taunt, “I’d get moving if I were you.” Fear wins out and a tear breaks free as his eyes dart around in panic, uselessly searching for the best path to freedom. “Fourteen, thirteen . . .”

Finally, he takes off toward the front door, his socks sliding across the wood floor. He might have been an athlete in his prime, but he’s lost his touch. My muscles twitch with anticipation.

“Ready or not, here I come,” I yell as I take off in a sprint, my boots giving me traction while Nate’s an unsteady, flustered mess. I nearly tackle him and fist the back of his thick platinum hair, pulling him against my chest. The familiarity of this position isn’t lost on me. I’ve fucked him like this more than once.How fitting.

“Please, don’t do this, man.” His breathing is uneven as he drowns in snot and an onslaught of tears. “Aiden, come on, I thought I meant something to you. You can’t kill me.”

“Oh, but I can,” I grit out between clenched teeth. “It’s too late to turn back. You should have thought about that before you tormented my sister. You just couldn’t help yourself, could you?”

“I didn’t know she’d kill herself. It’s not my fault.”

“Don’t you fucking dare! It is your fault. Take some damn accountability for once in your life, Nate.”

He doesn’t; he just continues pleading for his worthless life through those pretty plump lips I used to love seeing wrapped around my cock. Any affection I ever held for him is gone. The moment I knew he had any part in this, he was dead to me. He showed me who he was when we were kids; bullies never change, not really. I never should have let him back in my life.

With that clarity, I raise my knife. “Rot in hell.” Blade meets skin as I slash across Nate’s throat, cutting off his unmoving pleas. Warm blood pours over my arm and sprays across my face. It’s the best release he’s ever given me. I pant with exertion and satisfaction, but it’s not enough.

I release him and he hits the floor with a thud. I follow the snail-like trail of red to find Rob bleeding heavily and hyperventilating in a corner that he managed to crawl to. I grip a fistful of his shirt and force him upright. Once I ensure he’s looking me in the eyes, I drive my knife to the hilt into his stomach to finish what I started. He starts crying. I’m unmoved. Guys like this are always happy to dole out the torment, but they can’t take shit. They’re weak. They’re pathetic. And now, they’re getting exactly what they deserve.

Looking down at his limp, bloodied body, I breathe a little easier. I take a second to wipe off the handle of the knife with the only clean part of his t-shirt then head for the staircase leading up to the bedrooms. Unfortunately, no one else is home. Looks like I’ll have to wait for our boy Richard. How inconvenient. After a few minutes, I begin pacing what I’m pretty sure is Richard’s room. I was supposed to be in and out, so no one would know I was here. I should leave before someone finds the bodies; I just left them there thinking this would be quick work.

But I don’t leave. My need to finish this, to avenge my sister, is too strong.

“Bro, what the fuck?” Several voices echo in the entryway, so Richard takes me by surprise when his wide frame darkens the doorway. His brown eyes round with shock and his lips part. He takes two startled steps back, but I’m on him and covering his mouth before he can say a word. He’s much shorter than me, so he’s easy to overpower as I drag him into the room.

“Don’t act so surprised to see me, Richy. Karma always catches up with us.” He mumbles something unintelligible beneath my fingers. “Don’t waste your last few breaths; there’s nothing you can say to defend yourself. You deserve to bleed out all alone like my sister, you sorry fucking excuse for a human”, I hiss into his ear. “But first, I want you to hear you apologize.”

Richard shakes against me and pisses himself. Sweat pores from his brown hair and his skin immediately flushes with embarrassment. When it gets on my shoe, I jab the knife deep into his side. “Say it.” I peel my fingers back just enough to let sound out.

“I’m . . . I’m sorry,” he yelps between ragged breaths.

The empty apology only makes me angrier instead of soothing the aching loss that rakes over the hot coals of my insides. “Do you even know what you’re apologizing for?”

He shakes his head side-to-side frantically.

“You killed my sister.” I stab into his side again and twist the knife. “You and yourbrothers,” I spit the word, “drove her to death. You’re a bunch of pathetic cowards who wasted their lives making other people miserable. Not anymore.”

Several sets of feet pound up the stairs concealing the muffled voices. There’s nowhere for me to go; I lingered too long.

“We called the cops; they’ll be here any minute.” I don’t have a face to put to the voice, but the jumpy tone tells me they’re terrified of what they’ll find.

Richard whimpers as I rip the knife from his side. There’s nowhere to hide. I can hear them right outside in the hallway, a few more steps and they’ll be standing in the doorway, witnessing me covered in their friends’ blood.

“Don’t fucking move,” The brunette guy in front demands as he holds a hammer high over his head.

I can’t help but laugh. Do they really think that would stop someone hellbent on murder? I have no interest in killing them, they aren’t part of this. But I’m also so far gone that I don’t really care one way or another. If this guy thinks he’s going to hit me over the head with a hammer and I’m just going to take it, he has another thing coming.What’s one more?

The shrill scream of sirens blares from out front. They weren’t bluffing. That’s too bad for me. I guess it doesn’t really matter though, it’s not like I have much going for me. I haven’t really been living since Becca died. I’ve been getting by for this long by the skin of my teeth.

That line of thinking is interrupted by a voice coming through a megaphone. “Come out with your hands up. Nobody else has to get hurt.”

Liars.The most important person already got hurt. I’m already hurt.I turn my gaze to the two men standing in the doorway and they make a break for the front door. My head becomes cloudy and it’s as if I’m floating outside my body as I tackle the brunette and shove the other guy, trying to barrel my way through the door. Hand on the knob, I pull it open. At the same time, a searing heat erupts in my side. I turn and see the knife plunge in again, and again. Color me surprised that Richard found enough strength to get off his ass. He’s pale, sweating, and unsteady on his feet. He might have gotten me, but that fucker’s not walking out of here either. I’m so consumed by pain and shock that I don’t feel the next wound as distinctly.

Sluggish thoughts crawl their way to the front of my splintered mind.

Was this a mistake?

What did I really think was going to happen?

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