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.
***
