I’ll Never Forget It

GREG

“Damn it. Why isn’t Jeff answering his phone?” Greg mutters, hitting the end call button to avoid the voice mail prompt.

He’s standing outside the gym, the chilly evening air contrasting sharply with his heated frustration.

Jeff was supposed to meet him here for their regular workout, but as the sky darkens, there’s still no sign of his best friend.

Deciding that Jeff must have bailed, Greg heads to his brown jeep, ready to call it a day and head home.

“Probably at home with Miranda,” he grumbles, shaking his head as he pulls out of the parking lot.

Unbeknownst to Greg, a black Honda is following him. He turns up his radio, tapping his fingers against the leather steering wheel.

His three-story house isn’t far from the gym. When he first moved to Crossview after his long trip abroad, he chose this location for a few reasons, one of them being Rainey.

He wanted to be close, hoping for a chance to run into her when Jeff and her mom weren’t around. Maybe then he’d get the chance to do what he’d been wanting to do.

~What he hadn’t been able to do in six years.~

He parks his jeep in the spacious yard of his mansion and hops out, humming a tune as he grabs his gym bag.

Ansel and Alex, watching from a few blocks away, are shocked that he lives in the same neighborhood as Rainey. This realization fuels their desire for revenge.

Any sympathy they might have had for him evaporates with the knowledge of his chosen residence.

Greg steps onto his porch, and his beagle bounds down from his beanbag, tail wagging as he greets his owner. Greg smiles, reaching down to ruffle the dog’s fur.

“Hey. Miss me?” he chuckles, straightening up to retrieve his key from his sweatpants.

Just as he turns the key in the lock and reaches for the doorknob, he feels the cold press of metal against his side. He freezes, turning to see a smirking boy.

“Open the door and keep quiet,” Alex orders, pressing a finger to his lips in a mock shushing gesture.

Greg’s eyes drop to the weapon, and his face pales. “What the hell is this? A robbery?”

“Just do what you’re told.”

Greg looks in the direction of the second voice and sees Ansel, unsmiling, leaning against the wall of his patio. He lifts his chin defiantly.

“You.”

“Yeah, me. Surprise.” Ansel’s face is hard as he jerks his head toward the door. “Open it, or we’ll blow your brains out right here, where your dog can lick up your remains.”

The beagle, oddly unfazed by the two strangers on the porch, continues to wag his tail.

Greg swallows hard, his hands shaking as he slowly opens the door.

The door creaks ominously as it swings open, adding to the tension. He steps inside as if he’s walking to his execution.

The boys follow him in, their guns at the ready. Greg raises his trembling hands, glancing nervously from side to side.

“Look, you can take whatever you want. Everything. You want money? I can give you that. How much do you need?”

“Do we look like beggars?” Alex snaps, grabbing Greg’s collar and throwing him to the floor.

He groans as he hits the ground, but quickly pushes himself up onto his hands, looking up at the boys with wide, anxious eyes. “Then why are you here?”

Alex moves quickly to take Greg’s cell phone and wallet, then steps back.

“If it’s money, I have more in my safe. Lots more. The combination is 081MU—”

Ansel crouches down in front of him, one hand holding his gun, the other pushing his hair back in frustration.

“I don’t want your money. I’m ambitious enough to earn my own. All I want is to see your blood on my hands and on these floors. That’s it.

“Don’t speak unless you’re asked a question. If you do, you’ll get hurt sooner than planned. Got it?”

Greg pales, his eyes filled with fear.

“Now, let’s get started. I just want to make sure we’re all on the same page. Do you know why you’re in this situation, Greg Taylor?”

He looks back and forth between the two boys, confusion etched on his face. “No. I’ve never done anything to you guys. Is this about that time I saw you at Jeff’s house?”

He laughs nervously. “Look, that’s in the past. I won’t get in your way again.”

Ansel shakes his head while Alex makes a tsking sound, feigning pity.

“Greg, I don’t care what you say or do to me. But when you hurt someone I love, that’s where the problem starts.

“Like I just told your best friend, I’m very protective of the people I love. I suggest you keep that in mind.”

Understanding dawns on Greg’s face, and his eyes widen as he looks from one brother to the other. “You—you did something to Jeff? Is that why I can’t reach him?”

His brows furrow, and anger replaces his earlier fear. “And I’m next, is that it?”

Ansel smirks. “We’re getting somewhere.”

“You won’t get away with this!”

“Just like you won’t get away with what you did,” Ansel retorts. “An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth.”

“I swear, I didn’t do anything to you guys. This is crazy. Are you two delusional or something? Get out of my house, or I’m calling—”

“Hey, An. Check this out.”

Ansel turns to see Alex holding out a small photo. He takes it, squinting as he examines the image.

It’s Rainey. A tiny snapshot of her at around ten years old. Her smile is tight-lipped and innocent, barely stretching her small lips.

Her hair is done up in two pigtails, and she’s wearing a yellow summer dress dotted with kittens.

Ansel feels a pang of sympathy for the little girl in the photo.

“Found it in the creep’s wallet,” Alex says. “Fucking weirdo.”

Ansel closes his eyes, pressing the hand that’s holding his gun to his forehead.

She looked so innocent, so untouched.

He can’t tell if the picture was taken before or after these men hurt her, but he knows this image will haunt him for the rest of his life.

“Is this about Rainey?” Greg stammers. “What did she tell you? I swear it was a lie. Whatever she told you, it’s a lie. I didn’t touch her. I didn’t.”

Alex snorts, and Ansel lifts his head, handing the photo back to his brother. He wipes his teary eyes with his palm, then puffs out his cheeks.

“You know, Greg, none of us said that you touched her. None of us mentioned that. You just confessed that all by yourself.”

He stands up, a shadow falling over his face. Greg senses the danger in his eyes and starts to scramble backwards.

Ansel steps on his chest, and Greg grunts as he falls back onto the hard floor.

“She was ten, you sick bastard. Ten!”

He kicks him in the face, and blood starts to flow from his nose as he blinks, already on the verge of passing out.

He reaches up to touch his face, but Ansel’s foot gets there first, kicking him again and causing more blood to spurt from his nose.

“You remember you said a boy is no match for a man?” Ansel straddles him, grabbing him by the collar. “But look how easy it is to fuck you up.”

Alex chuckles, shaking his head.

“Do you know why it’s so easy?” Ansel smirks as Greg’s eyes start to roll. “Because you’re not a man. You’re a molester.

“A weak molester who only has strength for little girls. You disgust me.”

He punches Greg in the face, and his head snaps back, blood now gushing from both his mouth and his nose.

He can’t recover from the blow as Ansel hits him again, and again, and again.

Soon he’s beating Greg into a bloody mess on the floor while Alex stands by, watching his brother’s back.

Greg’s grunts and groans echo off the walls as Ansel takes out his anger on the thirty-five-year-old man.

Each punch is fueled by the image of a crying Rainey, huddled in the corner of her room, sobbing helplessly.

Five years of being touched and violated by two men could break even the strongest person.

Ansel might not have been there, but his mind can create vivid images of what happened.

Though that ability helps him maintain his impressive GPA, in times like these he wishes he could turn it off.

He keeps seeing her, her crying face, her shaking body. He keeps seeing it.

He hates that he wasn’t there to help her, to save her. She had to carry this burden all by herself, and it breaks his heart.

He stops beating Greg when he gets tired, only to find that the man is already unconscious, his face a bloody mess.

He collapses onto the ground, burying his face in his blood-stained hands.

His eyes are burning, and even though Greg is lying on the floor half-dead, his soul is not at peace.

Alex walks over to his brother and puts a comforting hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry, An. It’ll be okay.”

It will never be okay. As long as he lives, he won’t forget what they did to her.

And it doesn’t help that his mind stores every goddamn thing like a recycling bin. Nothing that enters his mind ever leaves it.

ALEX

Night has fallen, and the glow of the streetlights illuminates the road as they drive home.

Ansel’s head is resting against the headrest as he stares at the passing houses. He’s been silent since they got in the car.

Alex glances at him, sighing heavily as he tightens his grip on the steering wheel.

“It’s fucked up what they did to her.”

Ansel’s response is delayed, as if he’s not really there. “Yeah.”

He keeps it short, and Alex doesn’t know what else to say. He can see that his brother is upset, and it bothers him. He hates when he’s distant.

Alex has a special bond with Ansel. Not just because they share a room, but from the moment Alex was born, their mother says he clung to Ansel more than anyone else.

And they’re only a year apart in age.

“If it makes you feel better, we can just finish them off. You know, make sure they’re dead,” Alex suggests, but Ansel shakes his head, rubbing his face with his hand.

“Drop it.”

Alex sighs. “Okay.”

The silence returns, filled only by the hum of the car engine. Ansel finally takes a deep breath and removes his hand from his face, revealing a tight frown.

He looks down at his hands, a sad look in his eyes. “It’s just messing with my head, you know?”

Alex nods. “Yeah. I know. I’m sorry.”

“I knew something happened. I had a feeling. But knowing for sure still messes with me. And now I can’t get it out of my head.”

He sighs, leaning his head back against the seat. “I don’t think I’ll ever forget it.”

He won’t. No matter what, he just won’t. It’s going to be one of those things that his mind will keep circling back to. It’s going to be a memory, bright and clear, that he’ll have to carry with him.