A New Brand of Redemption.
Shaking Fingers and Cracking Ears.
When Trevor went to open Megan’s front door, it was unlocked. That was strange. She could have just forgotten about it. After a long extremely stressful day, it would be understandable if it slipped her mind. But still…
As he stepped into Megan’s living room, Trevor tried to shrug it off. He thought he was just being paranoid. Then he saw her.
What Trevor felt was so beyond pain. Megan screamed him name and it was like razor blades were embedded beneath his skin. It was like every bone inside him was breaking. Only much worse. Because even that couldn’t hurt as much as watching Megan’s eyes cloud over before she collapsed. Her fingers were still outstretched and reaching for him when she did.
Trevor’s vision grew unfocused as his legs turned to water. He almost fell to his knees right then.
But then, he really saw Brett for the first time. He was raising himself off Megan with a blood covered knife in one hand. Brett had done it. Brett had…
NO. NO. NO. She wasn’t. She couldn’t be. If Megan left him he had nothing.
Trevor’s eyes locked with Brett’s. Then, without even thinking, he lunged forward. Trevor wasn’t a huge guy. He was tall, but in a lanky angular way. When he slammed into Brett, it didn’t really hurt him. It just caught him completely off guard.
Trevor crashed against him and Brett lost the footing he’d just regained. They both went down, but was he was the one who really felt their landing .Because it was Brett spine and head that cracked against the hardwood floor.
As pain shot through him Brett thought, Get up. Push Trevor off and stab him in the heart!
Then he realized something. Both his hands had instinctively opened to brace for the fall. He wasn’t holding the knife anymore. Brett’s head twisted side to side as his fingers searched blindly for the weapon. Then he felt the bite of sharp edged steel against his throat and Brett knew it was too late. Trevor had already found it.
Do it, Trevor told himself. Don’t think. Don’t hesitate. Just do it. You know Brett deserves worse. For what he did, for what he is, Brett deserves so much worse.
I can’t.
What?
I can’t do that. I can’t be… that.
Brett killed her. He murdered Megan.
No. He didn’t. She’s not dead.
Look at her! Even if she’s still alive, every second you waste could be the second you lose her.
I won’t let her go. I won’t.
Then do something! Save her.
As Trevor held the blade at the vulnerable curve of Brett’s neck, his hand shook like the temperature had dropped thirty degrees. His control was slipping as he stared into eyes burning with hatred. Brett knew it was the end. He had to.
The only thing he said was, “I’m not sorry.”
“Neither am I,” Trevor replied as he pressed the knife harder against Brett’s flesh.
Then he heard it. A loud crack. It was like an explosion of a car backfiring. Trevor watched Brett’s face crumple in pain before he looked back toward the door. Standing there was Marcus Brody. Trevor noticed the black semi-automatic in his hand just as Brett’s blood started to soak through his shirt.
As he stepped into Megan’s living room, Trevor tried to shrug it off. He thought he was just being paranoid. Then he saw her.
What Trevor felt was so beyond pain. Megan screamed him name and it was like razor blades were embedded beneath his skin. It was like every bone inside him was breaking. Only much worse. Because even that couldn’t hurt as much as watching Megan’s eyes cloud over before she collapsed. Her fingers were still outstretched and reaching for him when she did.
Trevor’s vision grew unfocused as his legs turned to water. He almost fell to his knees right then.
But then, he really saw Brett for the first time. He was raising himself off Megan with a blood covered knife in one hand. Brett had done it. Brett had…
NO. NO. NO. She wasn’t. She couldn’t be. If Megan left him he had nothing.
Trevor’s eyes locked with Brett’s. Then, without even thinking, he lunged forward. Trevor wasn’t a huge guy. He was tall, but in a lanky angular way. When he slammed into Brett, it didn’t really hurt him. It just caught him completely off guard.
Trevor crashed against him and Brett lost the footing he’d just regained. They both went down, but was he was the one who really felt their landing .Because it was Brett spine and head that cracked against the hardwood floor.
As pain shot through him Brett thought, Get up. Push Trevor off and stab him in the heart!
Then he realized something. Both his hands had instinctively opened to brace for the fall. He wasn’t holding the knife anymore. Brett’s head twisted side to side as his fingers searched blindly for the weapon. Then he felt the bite of sharp edged steel against his throat and Brett knew it was too late. Trevor had already found it.
Do it, Trevor told himself. Don’t think. Don’t hesitate. Just do it. You know Brett deserves worse. For what he did, for what he is, Brett deserves so much worse.
I can’t.
What?
I can’t do that. I can’t be… that.
Brett killed her. He murdered Megan.
No. He didn’t. She’s not dead.
Look at her! Even if she’s still alive, every second you waste could be the second you lose her.
I won’t let her go. I won’t.
Then do something! Save her.
As Trevor held the blade at the vulnerable curve of Brett’s neck, his hand shook like the temperature had dropped thirty degrees. His control was slipping as he stared into eyes burning with hatred. Brett knew it was the end. He had to.
The only thing he said was, “I’m not sorry.”
“Neither am I,” Trevor replied as he pressed the knife harder against Brett’s flesh.
Then he heard it. A loud crack. It was like an explosion of a car backfiring. Trevor watched Brett’s face crumple in pain before he looked back toward the door. Standing there was Marcus Brody. Trevor noticed the black semi-automatic in his hand just as Brett’s blood started to soak through his shirt.