Page 89 of Monsters

“Or what?” Mason roared. He rolled to the side and stood, his own Glock pointed at Lucas in a stand-off. “Or what, brother?”

I scrambled across the ground, only to be yanked back hard against Mason’s chest, my long hair tangled in his fist. The barrel of the gun pressed against my temple crushing the bone.

There we were, the three of us. Me naked, wounded from head to toe, covered in dirt and blood that belonged to everyone present. Mason lost to a world of passionate revenge, bleeding from under his collarbone. And Lucas who stood with a gunshot wound to his shoulder and bleeding furiously from his temple. We were trapped in headlights, illuminated dust particles floated past, unconcerned with the violence unfolding in the middle of the deserted woods.

A hand wrapped around my throat pushing me harder against the gun’s barrel. I winced but remained as still as possible, fearful the slightest movement would cause Mason to squeeze the trigger.

“This is your fate, brother,” Mason warned. “This is how it’s all gonna end tonight because you chose her all those years ago. Because you should have left with me when I said, not when we had no choice. Because of her! Everything we had that we fought to keep is fucking over, Lucas,” he bellowed, spittle flying from his mouth. “And yet you hold the gun at me… for her?”

Lucas was having none of it. “This is all on you, Mason. You perpetuated this. You’re obsessed. You did this. All of it.”

Mason laughed, incredulous and almost hurt by the accusation. “You know that’s not true.”

“Gemma only held a small part of the story. You created all this hurt, and it has to end.”

“You wanna see what fucking hurt is?” Mason seethed. He pushed me away setting me up as a target, pointing his Glock at my head. I looked between the two, Lucas’s eyes widened in horror, his next move already determined, his hand forced.

“This is how it ends! You eliminate the common denominator.” Mason’s arm straightened to take the shot, his face reflecting his animosity toward me as he went to pull the trigger.

I screamed, cowering down, uselessly covering my face when two shots fired. I waited for impact, but it never came. Confused, I opened my eyes in time to see Mason jolted by bullets hitting him from both sides, a string of blood pouring from his mouth. His eyes were wide, but his soul had already left. The Glock slipped from his hand before he fell onto the dirt road, landing in a heap.

I had survived, but my body succumbed to defeat. The world moved in slow motion. A figure rushed to me in a blur while I watched an immobilized Lucas drop his own gun and stare at the body of his dead brother. I was falling, and someone was calling out my name. They grew closer, their assertive voice doing its best to pull me from the haze.

But I could do nothing.

Like a rag doll, I collapsed, saved by a pair of arms hooking under mine. My head rested against his chest as he carefully lowered me to the ground. A jacket was wrapped around my nakedness, and I finally recognized the voice calling my name.

Detective Kinross.

But it was too late.

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