Brian picked Love up and left the house. He got into the car with strange feelings twisting inside him. The moment with Vivian kept replaying in his head. He didn't know what Vivian would do if she ever found out the truth—that he was the one who killed her daughter.
He was so lost in thought that he didn't even notice he hadn't put Love in the back seat. She was still in his arms as he sat in the driver's seat.
"I love you, baby," he said, kissing her on the nose.
With her pacifier still in her mouth, Love reached out with her tiny left hand, touching her father's chin as if trying to hold onto him.
"Who's my girl?" Brian whispered softly, smiling as he looked at her.
Then, out of nowhere, he felt a cold piece of metal against the back of his neck.
The thing pressing against him was trembling, as if the hand holding it couldn't keep it steady. Whoever it was tried to stay quiet, but Brian could hear the heavy breathing from the back seat.
"Who the fuck are you?" Brian asked. His voice came out steady, but fear spread through his whole body.
"Justice," the man in the back said. "Start the car."
Brian carefully placed Love on the passenger seat and reached for the seatbelt.
"I said drive!" the man snapped.
"There's a baby in the car, you dumbass!" Brian shouted back. "She can't even stand yet. If I slam the brakes, she'll fall! What the hell am I supposed to do?"
The man grabbed Brian's chin with his left hand and yanked his head back hard against the seat. With his right, he pressed the shaking barrel against Brian's temple.
"I told you to drive, dumbass. Make me repeat myself again and I'll kill you both."
Brian gritted his teeth and slowly pulled out. His right hand was on the wheel, his left arm pressed against Love's belly to keep her steady. But she wouldn't stop wriggling, kicking against his hand.
"Let me at least put her in the seat," Brian muttered.
The man didn't answer. Only his ragged breaths filled the silence, the gun trembling against Brian's head every time they hit a turn.
He drove through narrow side streets, following the man's directions. Brian prayed for a police car, anyone, but the stranger clearly knew the quiet routes. No one was around.
Finally, they reached a wooded area.
"Pull over," the man ordered.
Brian stopped the car. The man got out quickly, hood over his head, gun raised and shaking in his grip. He motioned for Brian to get out.
Brian raised both hands slightly and stepped out, careful not to provoke him. "Look, I don't know who the hell you are, but at least let me strap my daughter in properly. If she falls—"
"Shut up!" the man barked, cutting him off. He stormed forward and slammed the butt of the gun against Brian's head.
Brian collapsed to the ground. Pain exploded in his skull. Blood ran from his eyebrow, dripping onto the dirt.
"Do you remember me now? HUH? DO YOU REMEMBER?!" the man screamed. He ripped his hood off and aimed the gun at Brian's face. The barrel shook violently in his trembling hand.
"Wh-who the fuck are you?" Brian stammered, dazed. He didn't recognize him.
"Stand up! NOW!" the man shouted, backing up a step but keeping the gun aimed straight.
Brian pushed himself off the ground, blood running down his face. From the car, Love's loud crying cut through the night, raising the tension even higher.
"What do you want?" Brian asked, slowly stepping a little farther away from the car so the bullets wouldn't hit her.
"What do I want? What do I fucking want?!" the man yelled.
"Look, I don't know who you are—"
"Oh yes you do!" the man shouted, his whole body trembling. "You know exactly who the fuck ı am and why the fuck I'm here."
"I told you already, I don't know—"
"Look me in the eyes and tell me who I am!" His gun-hand trembled harder and harder. His voice cracked. He was clearly inexperienced.
Brian stared at him, searching his face. Slowly, a realization hit.
"You're… you're connected to Theo, aren't you ? he muttered.
The man's lips curled into a bitter smile. "That's right. Theo was uncle's son. He was my fucking cousin. We were like brothers. We used to do everything together when we were kids. Then you fucking showed up and fucked it all up. I know you fucking killed him. You dumbass"
"I don't know what you're talking about. The court—"
"Bullshit!"
"They proved I wasn't there. I didn't—"
"SHUT THE FUCK UP! You can fool everyone else, but not me!"
"Listen, I get it. You're angry. But killing me won't bring him back. You'll just be killing an innocent man—and leaving an eight-month-old girl without a father."
"Don't move!" the man yelled as Brian took a small step closer. Every time Brian advanced, the man stepped back, gripping the gun tighter, the barrel trembling more and more.
"Drop the gun and we both walk away," Brian said, his voice hard. " you hear my daughter crying in the car? Her mom abandoned her once and commited suicide after . If I die, who's gonna take care of her? Child services? Is that what you want for her?"
"You ruined my cousin's life! You killed him!" the man shouted, spittle flying.
"I didn't kill anyone!" Brian's voice rose. "The only mistake I made was falling for the wrong woman. But that doesn't mean i deserve to die for this And it sure as hell isn't a reason to leave a baby without her father."
"Yes… You deserve to die for it."
The man pulled the trigger.
The gunshot echoed through the forest.
Love's crying grew louder, almost unbearable.
Brian fell to the ground, clutching his shoulder. "Aaaghhh! You bastard!" he groaned in pain. The bullet had only grazed him—the man's shaking hand had ruined his aim.
The man froze, panicked, and tried to fire again. He pulled the trigger once, twice—click, click. The gun jammed.
"Work! Damn it, WORK!" he screamed, slamming the gun with his palm.
Brian didn't waste the chance. He kicked out hard, his boot slamming into the man's knee. The stranger stumbled, collapsing to the ground with a cry.
Brian lunged forward, wrapping his arm tight around the man's throat from behind. His right elbow locked under the chin, his left hand gripping his own wrist to add pressure.
"Stop!" the man croaked, clawing at Brian's arms.
"Nah," Brian hissed through clenched teeth. "You'll just come after me."
He squeezed harder. Sweat rolled down his face as the man thrashed weakly, one hand still trembling toward the gun.
But his strength faded. The struggles slowed… then stopped.
The man went limp.
Brian shoved the body aside and staggered to his feet. He stumbled once, fell to his knees, then pushed himself back up and rushed to the car.
Love had fallen onto the passenger side floor, screaming her lungs out. Brian scooped her up, rocking her desperately.
"It's okay, baby. Daddy's here. Don't cry, don't cry, please," he begged, kissing her head.
Her wails didn't stop.
Love's crying didn't calm down at all. If anything, it grew louder and sharper, echoing through the woods. Every second that passed made it more likely someone would hear them out here. After that gunshot, people had to be suspicious already. Maybe someone was heading this way. Maybe the police had already been called.
Brian strapped her into the back seat this time, buckled tight. He grabbed his phone, connected it to the car radio, and played her favorite song.
Then he turned his head toward the corpse lying on the ground.
"Shit," he muttered, his chest heaving. "Here we go again."