Chapter 12 Sweet Revenge

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I know I'm a lazy writer. I know I haven't updated this in a long time. But let's not point that out, erkay? Erkay. Let's write some sheeit.

(Third person)

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(Third person)

Rage consumed the man in the leather mask. Nothing but anger raced through his bulging blue vains as he stood on the bottom step of the basement stairs. He glared down at his elder brother that laid face-up on the basement floor, surrounded by murky brownish-grey water. The basement was slowly flooding from the thunderstorm that had quickly blown in. The same thunderstorm that slowly lulled his beautiful girl to a peaceful sleep.

Thinking of Kay did nothing to soothe his anger. Because every time he thought of her, he thought of how badly she was hurting. How badly her body ached and how her voice was still hoarse from screaming for help. It only fueled the rage within.

Hoyt sputtered when the murky water made its way up to his crusty dry lips. He gagged while attempting to sit up as opposed to laying on his back. But the brother was hurt quite badly. Most of his ribs were shattered and his left femur was broken. His right shoulder was dislocated while his right hand was nearly bent completely backwards from the tumble down the stairs. He hissed in pain while propping himself up against the farthest wall from his brother.

His surroundings seemed to sway around him. His head spun as he tried to remember the moments leading to his downfall. He cradled his wrist. As he pittied himself, he took notice of the younger brother on the staircase.

"So that's how it's gonna be? Side with some night-walker tramp over ya own family?" Hoyt hissed in pain. Thomas, not feeling the need to talk, simply stared down at the accused.

"Gonna say somethin', or stand around like a fucking retard?!" Hoyt yelled while picking up an empty can of spray paint that floated beside him. He launched the can through the air, only to have it collide with rusted pipes that trailed up the wall on Thomas's left. The brute didn't bat an eye.

Thomas watched how is brother writhed in pain, splashing about in the cold, dirty water. And yet, Thomas still didn't think that was enough. That wasn't enough to make up for the pain Kay was enduring.

Thomas knew he was going to kill Hoyt. But not yet. Thomas would let him suffer in the murky brown grey water, he immediately decided.

Bored of listening to his brother's incessant screaming and demands, the man in the leather mask strode back up the stairs, deciding to call it a night.

He slipped through the darkness and up to his bedroom. Once inside, he stripped of his dirty clothes and tossed them into a wicker basket that sat in the corner. Like his unconventional lover, he was completely bare. He slid under the covers and gently encircled her in his large arms.

He pulled her into his chest and nuzzled his nose into her hair. He took in the scent of homemade lavender soap his mama made that winter. He placed his large right hand on her stomach while drifting off to sleep.

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