Chapter 12

 

“What?!” Brendan gasped.  “Kill him?!”

 

“That’s right.  Why do you need to keep ‘im around anyway?  If someone found ‘im, there’d be trouble.  But if we killed ‘im, there ain’t no way anybody could ever find out the truth.  If you destroy the evidence, there ain’t no proof of anything,” Sonny explained.

 

“That’s true…” Brendan said slowly.  “But to actually kill him?  If we did get caught, we’d be in much worse trouble.”

 

“Yeah, but who’s gonna catch us?” Sonny pointed out.  “Ain’t nobody gonna think that Brian Littrell ain’t really Brian Littrell.  You know what I mean?”

 

“Yeah, I know.”

 

“So let’s kill ‘im.  Then we won’t have nothin’ to worry about no more.”

 

Brendan swallowed hard.  “You’re right, Sonny,” he said.  “We gotta kill him.”

 

***

 

It was nearly pitch black in the basement where Brian lay, unable to sleep.  The only source of light was the moonlight that streamed in through the tiny rectangular windows near the ceiling. 

 

Suddenly, he heard footsteps from upstairs.  Two pairs of them.  And then, through the heat vents, he heard faint, muffled voices.   As the two people upstairs neared the stairs that led to the basement, the voices got louder.

 

“How ya wanna do it?” Brian heard Sonny ask.   “Want me to get my rifle?”

 

“Nah…” Brendan replied.  “Not good enough.   Too instant.   I want something long and painful.  Plus, someone might hear the gunshot.”

 

“How about we stab ‘im?  That’d be more painful,” Sonny said.

 

“Nah… too much blood.”

 

Brian listened from below in silent horror, as the two men talked at the top of the stairs.  They were coming to kill him!  And he was powerless to stop them.

 

“We could jus’ starve ‘im to death then,” Sonny suggested.

 

“That would take too long,” Brendan responded. 

 

“Strangle him?”

 

“Boring.”

 

“Suffocate him?”

 

“Even more boring.”

 

“Let’s jus’ beat the crap outta him then,” Sonny said.

 

“Alright.  But not enough to kill him.  Not yet anyway.  We want to make him suffer first.”

 

As then they started down the steps.  With each footstep, Brian grew more and more terrified.   And by the time the two men entered the room, he was about ready to throw up.

 

His eyes widened in horror, as they walked slowly closer to him, their eyes narrow and menacing. 

 

“Enough’s enough, Littrell,” Brendan said, his voice low and hateful.  “Are you ready to die?”

 

Brian struggled, grunting and twisting about as much as he could.   But with the cords tied around him, he couldn’t get far, and with the tape over his mouth, he couldn’t scream.   They could do anything they wanted to him.  And he knew they would.

 

Brendan stepped up first, his fists clenched together.   He raised one of them, prepared to get in the first punch.   Brian clenched his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut, knowing there was nothing he could do to protect himself.   It was all a matter of waiting for Brendan’s fist to connect.   And so he waited.  And waited.  And waited some more.

 

Perplexed, Brian opened up one eye.  Right at that moment, Brendan propelled his fist forward.   Brian prepared for contact.   But, inches away from his face, Brendan’s fist dropped.   He just stood there for a moment, staring at Brian.

 

“Brendan?” Sonny asked, cocking his head in confusion. 

 

“Take care of it,” Brendan said, shoving Sonny up to the bed.   Then he hurried upstairs without a glance back.

 

Brian was confused.   What had just happened there?   Had Brendan chickened out?   He’s a coward, Brian thought. 

 

But unfortunately for him, Sonny was not. 

 

Seconds later, Sonny’s fist was in Brian’s face.   Pain instantly radiated through his jaw.  But Sonny did not back off.   He struck Brian again. 

 

And again. 

 

And again.

 

With each blow, Brian saw his life flash before his eyes.   He saw visions of his mother and father, his brother Harold, his wife Leighanne, his four best friends, Kevin, Howie, AJ, and Nick.   He pictured himself as a child, performing in church.   He saw himself on stage with the Backstreet Boys.   He envisioned himself at his wedding with Leighanne. 

 

Sonny struck him now in the chest and in the stomach.  Brian gasped for breath, and blackness appeared at the edges of his vision.   As Sonny raised his foot and shoved the heel of his cowboy boot into Brian’s gut, he let out a muffled cry, gasping and choking for air.   The blackness spread.   With one more blow, it flashed red.   And then, finally, everything went black again.  And this time, it stayed that way.

 

***

 

 

Next

 

Back to index