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Echoes of the Heart - 30. Chapter 30: A love that heals. A journey complete
This is the end of one story, but so many more adventures await. 📚✨ Stay tuned for twists, emotions, and new beginnings—I promise the best is yet to come!
Echoes of the heart Ch. 16
Comments, critiques and tips are welcome!
***
The kids' cries pierced through Jeremy's heart like a dagger.
“Daddy!” Oliver screamed, his voice cracking with fear as tears streamed down his small, flushed face.
Andrew clung to his brother, trembling, his wide, tear-filled eyes fixed on Jeremy.
Jeremy's own breath hitched, his chest heaving as panic took hold. He strained against the ropes that bound his wrists behind his back, his skin burning as the rough material dug into his flesh. But no matter how much he twisted and pulled, it was no use. He was powerless.
Dexter turned toward the children, his expression shifting into a mocking pout.
“Aww, don’t you miss me?” he asked, his voice sickly sweet as he crouched to their eye level. “Uncle Dexter missed you so much, you know. That’s why I brought you here. To spend some quality family time together. You guys were like my own kids and I loved you so much and all I ever wanted was to be with you as long as your father allowed me.”
The boys said nothing, their terrified eyes darting between Dexter and their father. Seeing their fear only seemed to amuse Dexter more. He turned his gaze to Jeremy, his lips curling into a cruel smile.
“But, of course,” Dexter continued, his voice dripping with sarcasm, “it’s your father’s fault that I’ve been away. He kept you away from me, being the selfish man he is. Can you imagine what I went through without my darling little boys?”
Jeremy’s jaw clenched, and he shook his head.
“Don’t bring them into this, Dexter. They’re just kids—they have nothing to do with this! Let them go. It’s me you want. You have me.”
Dexter’s eyes narrowed, and he stood, closing the distance between himself and Jeremy.
“You think this is over, Jeremy? You think I was just going to let you live your perfect little life with your perfect little family while I rotted away? Do you really believe the security you set up around the kids could stop me?” He laughed darkly. “Did you honestly think I wouldn’t find them? You were stupid enough thinking that I was done and now look at me….” He yelled, pointing at his fake eye. “…that bitch did this to me while you watched. Did you think I wouldn’t take revenge?”
Jeremy’s voice cracked as he repeated, “Let them go, Dexter. Please. Take me instead. I’ll do whatever you want—just let them go.”
Dexter tilted his head, his fake eye glinting under the dim light.
“Oh, Jeremy,” he said softly, almost tenderly, as he crouched in front of him. “Of course, you’ll do whatever I want. But how could we have a family reunion without the kids?” He smiled wickedly. “No, they’re staying. I want them here. I want them to see everything, to experience everything.”
Jeremy’s vulnerability shone in his eyes, his voice desperate as he said, “I’ll go with you. I’ll marry you if that’s what you want. We can leave—go somewhere no one will ever find us and we’ll be happy. Just let them go, Dexter. Please.”
For a moment, Dexter’s face softened, his eyes glassy as he reached out and gently cupped Jeremy’s cheek. He caressed it, his thumb brushing against Jeremy’s skin in a mockery of affection.
“Awww, really? You’d do that for me?” he cooed, his voice dripping with faux sweetness.
Jeremy quickly nodded. “As long as you let my kids go. They’ve got nothing to do with this.”
But the tenderness shattered in an instant. Dexter threw his head back and laughed—a cold, maniacal sound that sent chills down Jeremy’s spine.
“That’s a nice offer, Jeremy,” Dexter said, his grin twisting into something feral. “Too bad that ship sailed a long time ago.”
His expression darkened, his jaw tightening as he leaned in closer.
“You see, Jeremy,” he hissed, his voice venomous, “it’s a wonder what years of rejection can do to someone. All those times you turned me away, pushed me aside, chose everyone else over me… It does something to a person.” His lips curled into a sneer. “I don’t feel love for you anymore. Not even a little. All I feel is hatred. And do you know what I want now?” He leaned even closer, his breath hot against Jeremy’s face. “I want to hurt you. Hurt you so deeply that you’ll never recover.”
Jeremy’s breath hitched, his voice trembling as he pleaded,
“Dexter, please. Don’t do this. I’m begging you—”
“Begging?” Dexter interrupted, laughing cruelly. “Oh, Jeremy, you don’t get it, do you? Seeing you like this—scared, desperate, powerless—it gives me the kind of pleasure you can’t even imagine.” He leaned back, his grin widening as he chuckled. “No, wait. That’s not true. You do know. You can see it, can’t you? How much I’m enjoying this. How much I love watching you suffer.”
“Please,” Jeremy whispered, his voice barely audible. “Not the kids. Don’t do this to them. Take it out on me. Just…”
Dexter’s face twisted in rage, and without warning, he snapped. His hand shot out, and he struck Jeremy hard across the face. The force of the blow sent Jeremy’s head snapping to the side, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. Before Jeremy could react, Dexter grabbed a nearby object—a heavy metal candlestick—and swung it down with brutal force.
The impact was sharp and sickening, and blood immediately began to seep from a gash on Jeremy’s forehead. His head drooped forward, his body trembling as dizziness took hold.
Dexter crouched in front of him again, his voice low and mocking.
“Oh, Jeremy,” he said, shaking his head with feigned pity. “You’re so pathetic. And this? This is just the beginning.”
Jeremy’s vision blurred, the room spinning as he struggled to stay conscious. The last thing he saw before his world faded to black was Oliver and Andrew’s terrified faces, their cries echoing in his ears.
***
Carter sat on the edge of the couch, his fists pressed into his temples, elbows digging into his knees. His legs shook uncontrollably as if mirroring the turmoil inside him. He felt like his chest was about to cave in from the pressure. Every second that ticked by felt like an eternity, every whisper in the room like nails on a chalkboard. The living room was crowded with police officers, his family, and close friends, yet it felt suffocatingly silent—everyone waiting, hoping for something, anything.
Jeff stood by the wall, arms crossed, his face lined with worry, while Eric paced near the coffee table, his own frustration thinly veiled. Carter couldn’t take it anymore. With a burst of energy, he bolted up from the couch and stormed toward the door.
“Where are you going?” Eric asked, stepping in his path and gripping his shoulders. His voice was firm, but his eyes were filled with concern.
“I can’t just sit here!” Carter snapped, his voice raw with emotion. “While Jeremy and the kids are out there, with him! God knows what that psycho’s doing to them!” He tried to push past Eric, but Eric’s grip tightened.
“Carter,” Jeff interjected, his calm yet authoritative voice slicing through the chaos. “You won’t find them by running out there blindly. I’ve lived with Dexter my whole life—I know how he operates. If he doesn’t want to be found, you won’t find him. He’s calculated.”
Carter’s breathing grew erratic, and a tear escaped down his cheek before he angrily wiped it away.
“They tracked Jeremy’s phone signal, and it led to nothing,” he muttered, his voice trembling. “And Dexter’s number—it’s untraceable. He’s playing games. I feel so useless just sitting here!”
“That’s why we have to be smart,” Eric said, his tone steady. “Dexter’s obsession is with Jeremy. As long as he has Jeremy, he won’t hurt him—or the kids. We’ll find them.”
Carter let out a shaky sigh, running his hands through his hair and gripping the ponytail at the back of his head as if trying to pull himself together. Just as he closed his eyes to steady his nerves, a shrill ringtone broke through the tension. His eyes flew open, and he rushed to the table where the police had connected his phone to their tracking equipment.
“It’s Jeremy!” Carter exclaimed, grabbing the phone without hesitation. His voice softened, full of hope, as he answered. “Baby! Are you okay?”
The sound of Dexter’s cold, mocking laugh immediately doused that hope like a bucket of ice water.
“Sorry, Carter,” Dexter drawled. “Jeremy can’t come to the phone right now. He’s... well, let’s just say he’s a little too busy bleeding.”
The blood drained from Carter’s face as Dexter laughed. The screen of the phone showed a live feed of Jeremy lying on a bed, looking weak and barely conscious. Blood trickled down the side of his head, staining the pillow beneath him. The kids were nowhere to be seen.
“Dexter, you son of a—” Carter growled, his voice shaking with both fear and fury.
“Now, now,” Dexter interrupted, his tone laced with faux cheerfulness. “Congratulations, Carter. You finally achieved your goal. I don’t like Jeremy anymore. In fact, I think I hate him. But oops, wait! You’re actually the man I hate the most!” He laughed again, the sound grating in Carter’s ears.
“You’re insane,” Carter spat, his grip on the phone tightening.
Dexter let out a delighted chuckle.
“You’re absolutely right. And this insane man has your husband and kids. Now imagine what I’m capable of.”
“If you hate me so much, why did you take Jeremy? Why involve the kids? They’re innocent, Dexter!” Carter’s voice cracked, the weight of his desperation nearly choking him.
Dexter’s voice turned cold and venomous.
“They’re Jeremy’s blood, Carter. And that makes them just another variant of Ethan—another version of you.” He paused, then let out a sigh as if he were genuinely regretful. “But you’re right, the kids are kind of useless. They’ll only slow me down, which brings me to the reason for my call.”
“What are you talking about?” Carter demanded, his heart hammering against his ribs.
“I’m letting them go,” Dexter said nonchalantly. “Isn’t that what you want? The kids back, safe and sound? I know this call is being traced, so go ahead. Follow the location. Get the kids. And then... we can negotiate for Jeremy.”
Carter’s voice wavered as he said, “How do I know I can trust you?”
Dexter laughed again, and the sound sent a chill down Carter’s spine.
“Oh, Carter. You don’t. But I’ll be nice. Here, talk to Jeremy.”
Jeremy’s weak, trembling voice came through.
“Carter,” he rasped, his tone filled with pain and urgency. “Don’t listen to him. He’s... You’re his target. Don’t—”
A sudden gunshot rang out, and Carter’s heart stopped. His breath hitched, his knees nearly giving out beneath him.
“Jeremy!” he screamed into the phone, his voice breaking.
“I’m fine!” Jeremy’s voice came through, faint but alive.
Dexter’s laughter returned, darker than before.
“Oops. Don’t worry, that wasn’t for him. But hey, you better hurry. The moment this call ends, the kids’ location will be yours. Come get them.”
Before Carter could respond, the line went dead. He stared at the phone in his trembling hands, his entire body feeling like it was collapsing under the weight of his fear and helplessness.
One of the officers stepped forward, his expression grim yet determined.
“We’ve got the location,” he said. “If we move now, we might catch him still there.”
Carter looked up, his eyes filled with both dread and resolve.
“Let’s go,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.
They bolted to the exit, their footsteps heavy on the floor. Carter was scared, so scared but he knew in that moment that he had to be strong, otherwise, he was gonna lose if he showed any form of weakness and he couldn’t have that.
***
The convoy of police vehicles slowed to a halt on the gravel road leading to a small, dilapidated cabin on the outskirts of town. The place was eerily quiet, surrounded by overgrown grass and looming trees, the moonlight casting long shadows across the clearing. The officers moved swiftly, their tactical gear blending into the night as they formed a perimeter around the building.
Carter, Eric, and Jeff stood near one of the cars, their breaths visible in the cold air. Carter’s hands trembled as he clutched his phone, his knuckles white. His heart pounded relentlessly, his mind racing with every possibility of what could lie inside.
“We’ll find them,” Eric whispered, placing a reassuring hand on Carter’s shoulder. But even his voice carried a tremor of uncertainty.
The lead officer motioned for them to stay back as the team began to approach the cabin. Guns drawn, they moved cautiously, flashlights slicing through the darkness as they cleared the perimeter. One of the officers signaled to another, and they entered the cabin in pairs, their movements precise and silent.
Inside, the air was thick and stale, the floor creaking under their boots. The cabin was sparsely furnished, with cobwebs in the corners and dust coating the surfaces. The officers moved room by room, their voices low as they radioed updates.
“Clear,” one officer called from the main room.
“Clear,” another echoed from the kitchen.
The tension in the air was palpable as one officer approached the final room at the end of the hall. The door was slightly ajar, and a faint glow could be seen from inside. Carter’s heart raced as he watched from the doorway, unable to remain still. Jeff had to place a firm hand on his arm to keep him from rushing in.
The officer pushed the door open, his flashlight beam sweeping the room.
“We’ve got something,” he called out.
Carter’s phone rang suddenly, the shrill sound breaking the silence. He fumbled to answer, his voice shaking as he said, “Jeremy?!”
The officer stepped into the room and found a phone lying on the bed, its screen still lit up with the name “Carter.” Next to it was a piece of paper folded neatly in half. The officer picked it up, carefully unfolding it with gloved hands.
“Psych.” The single word was scrawled across the page in jagged handwriting, the ink pressed so hard into the paper that it almost tore through.
The officer exhaled sharply, turning back toward the others.
“He’s gone,” he said. “Dexter’s not here.”
Outside, Jeff and Eric stood with Carter near one of the patrol cars, waiting for news. Carter’s leg bounced nervously, his hands gripping his phone like a lifeline. Jeff noticed the tension in Carter’s stance, the way his eyes darted toward the cabin every few seconds.
“Carter,” Jeff said cautiously, his voice low. “We’ll find them. You just need to—”
Before he could finish, an officer emerged from the cabin and approached them.
“We’ve searched the place,” he said grimly. “The phone was inside, but no sign of Dexter, Jeremy, or the kids. Just this.” He held up the note.
Jeff and Eric’s hearts sank. Eric turned to Carter, expecting an outburst—but when he looked, Carter wasn’t there.
“Carter?” Eric called, his voice rising slightly. He scanned the area, his pulse quickening.
Jeff’s eyes darted around the clearing, but all he saw were officers.
“Where did he go?” he demanded, his voice sharp.
Eric ran a few steps toward the cabin, then turned back toward the vehicles.
“He was right here! He was standing right here with us!”
Jeff cursed under his breath, his mind racing.
“He must’ve slipped away while we were focused on the officer. Damn it, Carter!”
One of the officers stepped closer.
“What’s going on?”
Jeff’s expression was grim. “Carter’s gone,” he said tightly. “He’s gone after Dexter on his own.”
The officer’s face darkened. “That’s not good. If he’s gone off by himself—”
Jeff cut him off, his voice strained. “Dexter will destroy him. We need to find him before it’s too late.”
Eric stared into the dark woods surrounding the cabin, his fists clenched.
“He’s not thinking clearly. He’s scared for Jeremy and the kids. He’ll do anything to get them back.”
Jeff nodded, his jaw tightening. “Including walking straight into a trap.”
They stood there wondering how Carter had run away from them and if he saw Dexter. They were all worried because that meant that Dexter might have the whole family together, just what he wanted.
***
The waves crashed violently against the shoreline, sending sprays of saltwater into the cold night air. Carter stood on the damp sand, his boots sinking slightly with each subtle movement. The beach was deserted except for him, the horizon cloaked in darkness. The only light came from a few distant lamps lining the edge of the coast and three faintly illuminated boats far out at sea. Their silhouettes swayed against the rough waves, two anchored and one inching closer to shore. The wind howled, tugging at Carter’s jacket, but the chill that ran through his body had nothing to do with the cold.
He clutched his phone tightly in his hand, his eyes scanning the beach for any sign of movement. His heart thudded painfully in his chest. What if Dexter tricked him? What if this was another cruel game, just like the cabin?
Unbeknownst to Carter, Dexter stood on a small bluff overlooking the beach, the higher ground giving him the perfect view of his prey. A wicked grin spread across his face, his eyes glinting with malicious delight. The sight of Carter pacing back and forth, fraught with worry, was like sweet nectar to him. Oh, how he loved this. Dexter reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. He let the moment linger before dialing.
Carter’s phone rang. The sudden sound made him jump, his grip tightening as he hastily answered.
“Hello?” he said, his voice breathless, desperate. He spun around, his eyes darting into the shadows as if the caller might suddenly materialize before him.
A low chuckle came from the other end of the line, sending an icy shiver down Carter’s spine.
“Well, well, well,” Dexter purred. “It’s nice to see you, Carter.”
Carter froze, his eyes narrowing as he turned in circles, searching the darkened surroundings.
“Where are you?” he demanded. “I’m here, like you asked. There’s no one with me. Just... show yourself.”
“Oh, I know you’re alone,” Dexter said with mock cheerfulness. “I made sure of that. It’d be such a shame to have anyone else ruin our little reunion.”
Carter’s jaw clenched as he took a step toward the water. His voice trembled, both with anger and fear.
“I came, just like you wanted. I’m here. Now where are they? Where’s Jeremy? Where are the kids?”
There was a moment of silence on the line, punctuated only by the sound of Dexter’s breath. Then he laughed—a chilling, maniacal sound that made Carter’s stomach churn.
“Oh, Carter,” Dexter said sweetly. “I’ll get to that. I always keep my promises. But there have been some… slight changes to the plan.”
Carter’s heart dropped, the color draining from his face.
“What do you mean?” he asked, his voice rising. His pulse quickened as dread sank its claws deeper into him. “Dexter, what are you talking about?”
“Let’s just say,” Dexter chirped, “you’re going to have to make a little decision tonight. A choice, really. A life-altering one.” His voice dropped to a sinister whisper. “You can choose to save the kids… or Jeremy.”
The words hit Carter like a thunderclap. He stumbled back a step, his legs suddenly weak.
“What?” he gasped, his throat tightening. “Dexter, no. That wasn’t the deal! We agreed—you said you’d let them all go if I came alone! You were going to exchange them. You said I am the one you wanted, they could all go.”
“Ah, but that was before I realized how fun this could be,” Dexter said mockingly, his voice laced with glee. “You see, Jeremy and the twins are in two very separate places. Both are tied to ticking bombs as we speak. And you, my dear Carter, will only have time to save one.”
“No!” Carter yelled into the phone, his voice cracking with emotion. “You’re insane! You can’t do this! Please, just let them go—they’re innocent, Dexter! They have nothing to do with this!”
“Oh, but they do,” Dexter hissed. “The twins carry Ethan’s blood—his legacy. And Jeremy?” He scoffed. “Jeremy is your heart, isn’t he? Your soul. Your perfect, precious husband. Why should I let any of them live when they’ve taken everything from me?”
Carter gripped his hair, yanking at the ponytail tied at the back of his head as he let out a frustrated cry.
“You don’t have to do this! Take me instead. I’ll come with you, I’ll do whatever you want—just let them go!”
Dexter laughed again, his maniacal glee filling Carter’s ears.
“Oh, Carter, how noble of you. But no. This is my game. My rules. And I’ve already decided how this ends.” His tone shifted to something darker, more menacing. “Now, do you see those boats out there?”
Carter turned toward the sea, squinting through the darkness. The three boats were still there, their faint lights reflecting on the choppy waves. One, smaller and faster, was now speeding toward the shore.
“Yeah,” Carter said shakily.
“The speedboat on the left has the kids,” Dexter explained gleefully. “And the larger one on the right? That’s where Jeremy is. Both are tied to bombs set to go off in”—he paused dramatically—“just under ten minutes. The choice is yours, Carter. Save the kids and let Jeremy die. Or save Jeremy and let the twins perish. Either way, you lose something tonight.”
“You’re sick,” Carter spat, tears spilling down his cheeks as he stared at the boats. “You’re evil! Involving the kids in this? You’re a monster!”
“Say what you want,” Dexter sneered. “It doesn’t change the fact that you have to make a choice. Now, there’s a speedboat coming to pick you up. Hop on and tell the driver where to go. But remember, Carter”—his voice turned cold as ice—“you don’t have time to hesitate. Tick-tock.”
The line went dead.
Carter stood frozen, his phone slipping from his hand and landing in the sand. His knees buckled, and he dropped to the ground, staring out at the two boats in the distance. His heart felt like it was being ripped in two, his mind racing with the impossible decision before him.
Jeremy or the kids
*
The air on the large boat was thick with the stench of saltwater, diesel, and sweat. Jeremy groaned as one of the thugs slammed a fist into his stomach, sending him crumpling forward. His hands, already bruised and bloodied, barely caught him before his face hit the steel floor. Another kick landed on his side, sharp and brutal, and a low grunt escaped his lips as the pain radiated through his body.
"Pathetic," one of the men sneered, cracking his knuckles. He was tall and burly, with a cruel glint in his eyes. "Not much fight left in you, huh?"
Jeremy tried to push himself up, but his arms gave out beneath him. His chest heaved as he coughed, spitting a small pool of red onto the floor.
“Enough,” the second thug said, his voice gruff. He crouched down, grabbing a fistful of Jeremy's hair and yanking his head back. “Boss said no killing him yet. Just make sure he doesn’t have the strength to pull any stunts.”
Jeremy glared up at him through bloodshot eyes, defiance flickering in his gaze even as his body screamed in agony. “You… won’t… win,” he rasped, his voice barely audible.
The thug smirked and shoved him back onto the floor. "We don’t have to win. We just have to make sure you lose."
The two men grabbed Jeremy by his arms, dragging his limp body across the deck. They hauled him to the handrail at the side of the boat, binding his wrists tightly to the metal with rope. Then they tied a bomb around his chest and set it off and it started ticking.
On the smaller speedboat to the left, a grim scene played out. The twins, Oliver and Andrew, sat huddled together on the floor of the boat, their small bodies trembling in fear. Their hands and feet were bound with duct tape, and their mouths were gagged. Tears streaked their cheeks as they stared at the device placed menacingly in front of them.
A bomb.
Its digital timer ticked down relentlessly, bright red numbers glowing in the darkness.
09:42… 09:41… 09:40…
*
The waves roared louder, the violent sea reflecting the chaos within Carter. His chest heaved as he took a shuddering breath, his eyes flicking desperately between the two boats. The speedboat neared, its motor growling as it approached the shore.
Carter gritted his teeth, forcing himself to his feet. His legs wobbled as he took a step toward the water. His time was running out. And Dexter knew it.
His heart felt like it was trying to punch its way out of his chest as the boat sliced through the dark waves, drawing closer to the meeting point. The headlights from the speedboat illuminated the glistening water, reflecting the flickering lights of the two larger boats in the distance—their destinations.
Carter blinked, his palms sweaty, as he spotted two men dressed in black, one standing stoically on the deck of the speedboat and the other on the driving wheel. Their expressions were cold, indifferent, like they were merely pawns in this sadistic game. One of the men gestured to him, a slight jerk of the head signaling for him to climb aboard. Carter hesitated for a moment, his legs stiff with fear, before he forced himself to step forward.
As he boarded, the taller of the two men gave him a long, appraising look.
“We’ve been instructed to take you to the boat of your choice,” he said in a monotone voice.
Carter’s throat tightened, and he struggled to swallow as he glanced at the two boats in the distance, their silhouettes dark against the horizon. His hands trembled, and he clenched them into fists to stop the shaking. He could feel the minutes ticking away like a noose tightening around his neck.
The speedboat lurched forward, heading toward the middle of the water. The engine’s hum mingled with the crashing waves, but Carter barely heard it. His eyes locked onto the two boats as memories began to flood his mind.
First came Jeremy—his Jeremy.
He remembered the way Jeremy had looked at him the night he proposed, his eyes soft and full of hope, a rare vulnerability on his otherwise hardened face. They had been on the balcony, the city lights twinkling behind them. Carter remembered the feel of Jeremy’s hands, warm and steady, as he slipped the ring onto his finger, the promise of forever whispered in his trembling voice.
“I love you more than anything,” Jeremy had said, pulling Carter close for a kiss. “You’re my beginning, my middle, and my end.”
The memory shifted, and Carter saw their quiet mornings together—Jeremy’s laughter as the twins ran circles around them, spilling cereal on the floor. The way Jeremy would sneak glances at him across the room, even when he thought Carter wasn’t looking.
But then, his mind turned to the kids—Oliver and Andrew.
He remembered their giggles, their tiny hands tugging at his sleeves. He saw Andrew’s shy smile when Carter had taught him how to draw, and Oliver’s proud expression after he won his first little soccer match. Their voices echoed in his head, calling him
“Uncle Carter” with so much love and trust.
The memories collided like a tidal wave, leaving Carter breathless. His chest heaved, and his vision blurred as he came back to the present. The two boats loomed closer now, their outlines sharper, and the weight of Dexter’s cruel choice pressed down on him like a ton of bricks.
“Where do you want to go?” one of the men asked, his voice cutting through Carter’s spiral of thoughts.
Carter’s eyes darted between the two boats. His heart raced, and a ringing sound filled his ears. His gaze lingered on the right boat, where Jeremy was—his husband, his soulmate, the man he had fought so hard to protect. If he chose Jeremy, maybe they could find a way out of this together. Maybe they could start over, rebuild what Dexter had tried to destroy.
His lips parted, and he whispered, “I’m sorry.”
Turning to the men, he forced the words out, each syllable slicing through him like a knife.
“Take me to the left boat.”
The speedboat shifted course, heading toward the smaller boat where the kids were being held. Carter’s gaze remained fixed on the larger boat, pain searing through him like fire. He clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms, but he couldn’t look away. He felt like he was leaving his heart behind.
High above, Dexter watched the scene unfold with a maniacal grin, his arms crossed over his chest.
“Stupid Carter,” he muttered to himself. “He chose the kids over his own husband. Poor Jeremy. At least you’d have spent your last moments with the man you loved. But no… he abandoned you, not knowing he’s walking into his own trap.”
He threw his head back and laughed, the sound echoing across the water.
“No one’s coming out alive tonight. Goodbye, Carter.”
The speedboat pulled up alongside the smaller boat. Carter didn’t wait for it to stop completely before he jumped aboard. His ears immediately caught the muffled cries of Oliver and Andrew, their voices trembling with fear.
“Uncle Carter!” they screamed as they saw him.
Carter rushed toward them, his movements frantic as he dropped to his knees and began untying the ropes around their small bodies.
“It’s okay,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m here. I’ve got you.”
Andrew sobbed into his chest as Carter freed him, while Oliver clung to his arm, his little face streaked with tears.
“It’s going to be alright,” Carter said, trying to keep his voice steady even though his heart felt like it was breaking.
As he worked, Andrew suddenly screamed, “Watch out!”
Carter spun around just in time to see one of the men from the speedboat rushing toward him with an iron rod raised. Reacting instinctively, Carter kicked out, catching the man’s leg and sending him crashing to the floor. The rod and a pistol clattered to the ground.
Without hesitating, Carter grabbed the pistol and fired. The man fell with a thud, lifeless.
The second thug barely had time to react before Carter turned the gun on him and pulled the trigger.
The boat fell silent except for the soft cries of the twins. They rushed to Carter, clinging to him as their small bodies trembled.
Oliver looked up at him, his voice shaky.
“Uncle Carter… where’s Dad?”
Carter’s heart sank as he looked toward the larger boat. His voice was barely a whisper.
“He’s… he’s over there. I’m going to save him.”
But before he could move, a deafening explosion rocked the air. Carter’s head snapped up just in time to see the larger boat erupt into flames, the fire consuming it almost instantly.
“No!” he screamed, his voice raw and broken. “Jeremy!”
The sight drained the strength from his body, leaving him frozen in place. Tears streamed down his face as he screamed Jeremy’s name over and over, the sound carrying over the water.
Above, Dexter laughed harder, his voice dripping with venom.
“Goodbye, my love. Now it’s Carter’s turn.”
Carter barely registered Oliver tugging at his arm, his small voice trembling.
“Uncle Carter, what’s that sound?”
Carter followed the boy’s gaze and saw the bomb, its timer ticking down mercilessly.
00:05… 00:04… 00:03…
His eyes widened, and without thinking, he grabbed the twins, holding them tightly.
“Hold on to me!” he yelled.
As the timer hit zero, Carter leaped into the water with the boys just as the boat exploded behind them. The force of the blast sent them hurtling into the waves, the fiery debris lighting up the night. Dexter burst into laughter, the sight of the two boats on fire giving him a pleasure he didn’t even know existed.
“And it is done!” He screamed at the top of his voice. “My enemies gone just like that!”
He watched with excitement the two boats burning knowing that Carter and Jeremy and the kids were burning with them.
***
The water clung to Carter's skin, the salty sting burning his eyes as he swam with all his strength. His arms felt like lead, his muscles screaming for relief, but he refused to stop. Oliver and Andrew clung to his sides, their tiny hands gripping his shirt as they kicked their legs, helping to stay afloat. Carter silently thanked his stars that both boys were excellent swimmers; otherwise, he wasn’t sure how he’d have managed to keep them alive.
The shoreline felt like an eternity away, but finally, Carter’s feet touched the sandy bottom. Gasping for air, he pulled the boys onto the shore, his lungs burning with each heave. They collapsed together in the sand, coughing and trembling from the cold.
“We… we made it,” Carter whispered, his voice hoarse. He reached out to both boys, pulling them close to check for any injuries. “Are you okay? Did you get hurt?”
Andrew and Oliver shook their heads, their faces pale and wet with tears. Carter helped them to their feet, gripping their small hands tightly as he glanced around. The trees ahead loomed dark and foreboding, but they offered cover—safety. Without hesitation, he guided the boys into the forest, his steps hurried as he pushed past the brush.
When he felt they were far enough from the shore, Carter stopped. His legs wobbled as he crouched down in front of the boys, his chest still heaving from exhaustion. Tears streaked their little faces, their eyes wide with fear and confusion.
“Uncle Carter…” Oliver’s voice broke as he clung to Carter’s arm. “Where’s Dad? Is he… is he really gone?”
Andrew wiped his face with his fists, his small body shaking. “
Daddy can’t… he can’t be gone… right? Please tell us he’s okay.”
Carter’s heart shattered into a thousand pieces. He opened his mouth to speak, but the words caught in his throat. His own tears spilled freely now, blurring his vision as he struggled to find the strength to answer. He wanted to tell them that Jeremy was fine, that everything was going to be okay—but the image of the explosion replayed in his mind, snuffing out any hope he might have clung to.
He reached out, cupping both boys’ faces gently in his trembling hands.
“Listen to me,” he began, his voice cracking. “I don’t… I don’t know what happened to your dad. But I promise you this—I’m here. I’m not going to let anything happen to you. You hear me?”
The boys sniffled, their small hands gripping Carter’s shirt tightly.
“But we need Daddy,” Andrew whispered, his voice filled with heartbreak.
Carter swallowed hard, forcing himself to hold it together.
“I know,” he whispered, pressing his forehead against theirs. “I know you do. And I need him too. But right now, I need you both to be brave, okay? You’re so strong—stronger than I ever thought possible. And I’m going to make sure nothing else happens to you.”
He kissed their foreheads, tears streaming down his face.
“You’re safe with me. I won’t let anything happen to you. I promise.”
Looking around, Carter found a small, secluded clearing surrounded by thick trees and bushes. He ushered the boys over, guiding them into the brush and crouching beside them.
“Stay here,” he said softly, his tone firm. “Don’t make a sound, okay? I’m going to take care of something, but I’ll come back for you. I promise.”
The boys clung to him, their tears starting anew.
“Don’t leave us, Uncle Carter,” Oliver pleaded, his voice trembling. “Please don’t go.”
Carter wrapped his arms around them, holding them tightly as he whispered, “I have to, sweethearts. But I’ll be back soon. I promise you that. You’ll be okay here—you’re safe. Just stay hidden, no matter what you hear.”
He kissed them both again, his heart breaking as their tiny arms tightened around him one last time. He gently pulled away, tucking them carefully into the bushes and making sure they were concealed.
“Stay here,” he said again, his voice low but steady. “I’ll come back for you.”
Carter stood, his legs shaking slightly as he turned away from the boys. He reached behind him, pulling the pistol from his waistband. The weight of the weapon felt heavy in his hand, but the anger boiling in his chest made it feel lighter with every step he took.
He wiped his tear-streaked face, his expression hardening as a new wave of emotion washed over him. Pain. Fury. Determination. Whatever had happened to Jeremy, to the life they had tried so hard to build, it all led back to one man. Dexter.
Carter’s jaw clenched, his grip tightening around the pistol. He had nothing left to lose. Dexter had taken everything from him, and now it was time to return the favor. He wouldn’t stop until he made Dexter pay for everything—for Jeremy, for the boys, and for everyone who had suffered because of him.
Carter’s steps quickened as he disappeared into the darkness of the trees, his resolve unshakable. The pain in his heart transformed into a burning fire, and he promised himself that no matter what it took, Dexter would never get away with this.
***
The dimly lit warehouse reeked of rust, oil, and damp wood. Shadows stretched long and jagged across the cracked cement floor as Dexter descended the creaking metal stairs with the swagger of a man untouchable. His leather shoes clicked against the steel steps, the sound echoing through the cavernous space. The faint glint of light from the overhead bulbs bounced off his perfectly tailored suit. Flanked by six of his henchmen, he strutted as if the chaos outside was nothing but a distant memory.
Dexter’s lips curled into a smug smile as he glanced at one of his men, a towering brute with a thick neck and a voice like gravel.
"Is the transportation ready to get me out of this shithole?" he asked, his voice smooth and confident, betraying none of the anxiety bubbling beneath the surface.
The thug gave a curt nod.
“Chopper’s on its way, boss. Should be here in ten minutes.”
“Good,” Dexter drawled, adjusting the cuffs of his suit. “Finally, I can leave this mess behind and live happily ever after. Somewhere warm, maybe. Somewhere far away from idiots that want to take my happiness away.”
His entourage chuckled, their laughter short-lived as the metallic crack of a gunshot sliced through the air.
One of the men staggered forward, clutching his chest where blood began to pool through his shirt. He collapsed to the ground with a heavy thud, his face frozen in shock. The air in the warehouse shifted—what had been confidence and control now curdled into confusion and panic.
Dexter’s eyes widened in horror.
“What the hell—what’s going on?” he barked, whipping his head around to locate the source of the shot.
The men surrounding him scrambled, drawing their weapons. Their footsteps shuffled against the dirt-caked floor as they aimed wildly in the direction of the gunshot.
“Spread out!” one of them shouted. “Find the shooter!”
Behind one of the many old, rusted boats, Carter crouched low, his heart pounding like a drum in his chest. Sweat trickled down his temple, mixing with the grime smudging his face. He gripped the pistol tightly, his knuckles white with strain. He peeked out briefly, only to jerk back as a bullet ricocheted off the edge of the boat, narrowly missing him.
The barrage of gunfire continued, the sharp cracks echoing through the warehouse. Carter shifted his position, crawling along the floor to put more distance between himself and the chaos. He raised his pistol and fired blindly over his shoulder, the recoil jolting up his arm. A bullet hit one of the fluorescent lights above, causing it to flicker and shatter.
“Spread out! Fan out!” Dexter yelled, his voice rising with fear. “Find the motherfucker and kill him!”
The thugs nodded, dividing themselves and cautiously moving in different directions. The sound of their boots against the floor blended with the faint creaks and groans of the old structure. Dexter, however, began to retreat, his hand trembling slightly as he checked his gun. His eyes darted around, and his once-confident stride turned into a careful, deliberate tiptoe as he moved toward the far exit.
Suddenly, another gunshot rang out, and another thug dropped, blood pooling beneath him. The remaining men froze, their fear palpable now.
“He’s behind us!” one of them shouted, turning around and aiming into the shadows.
The group began firing aimlessly in the direction of the sound. In the confusion, Dexter ducked behind an old car, clutching his chest as he tried to steady his breathing.
“Idiots,” he hissed under his breath. “Kill him already!”
One of the henchmen, a wiry man with a scar running down his cheek, moved carefully toward the entrance. His steps were slow, his gun held steady as he scanned every corner for movement. The shadows seemed alive, shifting and stretching in his peripheral vision. As he neared the rusted doorway, a hand shot out from the darkness and grabbed his arm.
The thug grunted in surprise, the gun jerking out of his grasp as he was yanked into the shadows. A brutal struggle ensued. The thug swung his fist wildly, landing a blow to the side of his assailant’s face. The attacker, undeterred, countered with a knee to the thug’s gut, forcing him to double over with a gasp.
The thug grappled for control of the gun that had fallen to the floor, but his opponent kicked it away. The fight became more desperate—grunts and the sound of fists hitting flesh echoed through the space. The thug managed to land another punch, but it was quickly followed by a vicious elbow strike to his jaw. Disoriented, he stumbled back, giving his attacker the opening he needed.
The man lunged forward, grabbing the thug by the throat and slamming him against the wall. There, in the dim light, his face was revealed: Jeremy. His expression was a mask of fury, his jaw clenched and his eyes blazing with righteous anger. Blood trickled from a cut on his cheek, but he didn’t seem to notice.
“Where’s Dexter?” Jeremy growled, his voice low and menacing.
The thug barely managed to choke out a response before Jeremy shoved him harder against the wall. With a swift, calculated motion, Jeremy retrieved the gun from the ground and pressed it to the thug’s temple.
“You don’t deserve mercy,” Jeremy spat before pulling the trigger. The sound was deafening, and the thug slumped lifelessly to the floor.
***
A few minutes ago…
*
Jeremy was on the boat, his body slumped against the cold, unforgiving handrail. His face was bruised, his lip split, and blood trickled down from a wound near his temple. His breaths came in shallow rasps, every intake of air painful against his ribs, which felt like they might be cracked from the relentless beating. His wrists were bound tightly with coarse rope, digging into his skin as one of Dexter’s thugs knelt in front of him, securing the final knot to the handrail.
“You’re done for,” the thug muttered, a sneer curling his lips. The man’s voice dripped with cruel satisfaction as he tightened the knot. “Boss says you’ve outlived your usefulness. Too bad. You’re such a handsome man.”
Jeremy’s head hung low, his chin brushing his chest. He appeared lifeless, defeated, as if all the fight had drained from his body. The thug snorted in contempt and stood, turning to grab his walky to talk to his partner.
But then, like a coiled spring, Jeremy moved.
With a sudden, violent burst of energy, Jeremy swung his leg upward, his foot connecting squarely with the thug’s knee. A sickening crack echoed through the boat as the man let out a guttural scream, collapsing onto the deck with a heavy thud. Jeremy, though still tied to the handrail, pressed his advantage. He planted his feet firmly on the ground and used his momentum to kick the thug again, this time striking his ribs. The man writhed in pain, gasping for air.
“You son of a—” the thug growled, his voice cutting off as he forced himself back to his feet, fury blazing in his eyes. He reached into his boot and pulled out a knife, its blade glinting under the dim moonlight. The thug advanced on Jeremy with murderous intent, the knife raised high.
Jeremy's eyes darted to the blade, then to the thug’s unstable stance. His mind worked quickly despite the pain coursing through his body. As the thug lunged forward, Jeremy twisted his body, using the handrail as leverage to pivot just enough to avoid the blade. The knife missed his torso by mere inches, slicing through the air with deadly precision.
The thug, thrown off balance by his missed strike, stumbled slightly. Jeremy seized the opportunity. He leaned forward and drove his shoulder into the thug’s midsection, sending him sprawling backward onto the deck once more. The knife clattered from his grip, skidding across the wooden planks.
The thug scrambled to regain control, but Jeremy moved swiftly, using his bound wrists to trap the man’s neck in a chokehold. With a surge of adrenaline, he tightened his grip, ignoring the burn of the ropes against his skin. The thug thrashed and clawed at Jeremy’s arms, his strength waning with each passing second. Finally, his body went limp, and he slumped to the floor, lifeless.
Jeremy didn’t stop to catch his breath. His eyes locked onto the knife that lay a few feet away. He used his legs with difficult to get the knife closer to him and then crouched down, maneuvering his bound wrists to grab the blade. With careful precision, he sawed through the ropes, wincing as the blade nicked his skin in the process. His hands finally free, he rubbed his wrists to ease the sting and glanced down at the ticking bomb strapped to his chest.
The red LED display blinked ominously: 00:18.
Jeremy’s heart pounded as he worked quickly, his fingers trembling as he unstrapped the duct tape that had the bomb bound to him and flung the device toward the edge of the boat.
The timer hit 00:10.
Jeremy stumbled to his feet, his legs shaking beneath him. He took a deep breath and ran toward the side of the boat. With a final push, he leapt over the railing, plunging into the icy water below.
The cold was a shock to his system, stealing the breath from his lungs as he sank beneath the surface. He kicked hard, propelling himself upward just as the timer reached 00:00.
A deafening explosion ripped through the air, the boat engulfed in a fiery inferno. The shockwave sent ripples through the water, throwing Jeremy farther away from the blast. He resurfaced, gasping for air, the acrid smell of smoke and burning fuel filling his nostrils.
His limbs ached, his body felt like it weighed a ton, but he forced himself to swim. The adrenaline coursing through his veins was the only thing keeping him moving. Finally, he reached a piece of floating debris and clung to it, his breaths ragged and labored.
***
Present day…
*
Jeremy stood there for a moment, his chest rising and falling with labored breaths. He wiped the blood from his cheek, his expression hardening as he turned his gaze toward the center of the warehouse.
However, his pulse quickened as the sharp sound of gunfire ricocheted, reverberating off the rusted metal walls. He ducked lower behind the decrepit car, its peeling paint and shattered windows offering him scant protection. The acrid smell of oil and dust mingled with the adrenaline coursing through his veins, making every breath feel heavy.
He peeked around the edge of the car, just enough to catch a glimpse of the thug who had spotted him. The man was tall, burly, and armed with a semi-automatic rifle. He barked orders to his partner, his voice a gruff snarl.
"He's hiding behind the car! Flank him! Don’t let him get away!"
Jeremy ducked back just as another hail of bullets slammed into the car, punching through the rusted metal with sharp, metallic pings. Shards of glass from the broken windows sprayed the ground around him. His mind raced as he assessed his options. He couldn’t stay pinned down for long—they’d eventually box him in.
Clenching his jaw, he took a deep breath to steady himself. His fingers brushed against the handle of the pistol he had taken earlier. It was his only weapon, and he was running low on ammo. He had to make every shot count.
The gunfire ceased momentarily, and Jeremy realized the thugs were repositioning, likely moving to surround him. He could hear their heavy footsteps crunching on the debris-strewn floor, growing louder with each step.
Jeremy pressed his back against the car, his knuckles white around the pistol. He closed his eyes for a moment, summoning every ounce of focus.
This was it.
***
Dexter moved cautiously, his every step filled with tension. His sleek shoes crunched softly on the dirt-streaked floor of the warehouse, weaving through a labyrinth of abandoned boats and rusting cars. His eyes flicked nervously from one shadow to the next, sweat dripping down his temples as his fingers tightened around the grip of his pistol. Every sound—the creak of metal, the distant gunfire—sent his nerves spiraling. His mind raced. He couldn’t afford to lose. Not now, not after everything.
He glanced over his shoulder, moving backward as he calculated his escape route. A flicker of movement above him caught his attention, but before he could react, something—or rather someone—dropped down from the beams above.
Carter descended like a vengeful shadow, arms outstretched as he collided with Dexter's shoulders. The impact sent Dexter staggering forward with a startled yell, his gun clattering to the ground and sliding underneath a nearby car. His balance faltered, and he nearly toppled over before catching himself against a rusted boat hull. Panic seized him as he whipped around to face his assailant, his breath hitching when he saw who it was.
“C-Carter?” Dexter stammered, his voice trembling with disbelief. His mouth gaped as though he had seen a ghost. “How…?”
Carter stood before him, his chest heaving, his eyes blazing with fury and pain. His face was streaked with dirt and water, his hair plastered to his forehead, but none of it diminished the raw intensity of his presence. He was a man consumed by hatred, his clenched fists trembling with the weight of his emotions.
“You’re going to pay for everything,” Carter growled, his voice low and venomous.
Dexter barely had time to process the words before Carter lunged. His fist shot forward with brutal precision, connecting squarely with Dexter’s jaw. The force sent Dexter stumbling backward, crashing onto the filthy floor with a grunt. He groaned, spitting out blood as he tried to push himself up, but Carter was relentless.
Grabbing a wooden plank from the ground, Carter swung it with all his strength. Dexter instinctively raised his arms to shield himself, but the plank struck with a sickening crack, smashing into his forearm. Pain exploded in Dexter’s arm, forcing him to drop the weapon he had hastily tried to retrieve. It skidded further away, disappearing under the shadows of a nearby car.
“Get up!” Carter roared, his voice raw and shaking with emotion.
He threw the plank aside and grabbed Dexter by the collar of his shirt, hauling him to his feet. Dexter’s face contorted in terror as Carter’s rage became more palpable with every passing second.
“Please, Carter—” Dexter began, but his plea was cut short as Carter drove his fist into his abdomen. Dexter’s breath left him in a sharp gasp, and he doubled over, clutching his stomach in agony.
Carter wasn’t done. Gripping Dexter by the hair, he dragged him toward an old boat propped up on a platform. He shoved Dexter against the cold, metal ladder attached to its side, pinning his head against the rungs. Dexter thrashed, his hands clawing at Carter’s arm, but Carter’s grip was unyielding.
“You think you can hurt people and walk away?” Carter hissed through clenched teeth. “You think you can destroy lives without consequences? Jeremy?”
Dexter struggled, his breaths coming in shallow gasps as the ladder pressed against his neck, cutting off his air. His face turned red, veins bulging as he clawed desperately at Carter’s forearm. His vision blurred, and for a moment, he thought this might be the end.
But desperation fueled him. Summoning what strength he had left, Dexter drove his elbow into Carter’s stomach once, then again, and again. Each blow elicited a grunt of pain from Carter, who finally loosened his grip, stumbling backward. Dexter sucked in a ragged breath, his lungs burning as he staggered away from the ladder.
Carter clutched his abdomen, momentarily winded, but his eyes never left Dexter. He straightened, his expression a mixture of fury and determination, but Dexter wasn’t sticking around. Seizing the opportunity, Dexter turned on his heel and bolted, weaving through the maze of boats and cars.
Carter’s eyes narrowed. He wasn’t going to let Dexter get away that easily. He straightened, his breathing heavy but steady, and began to pursue the man who had caused so much destruction. This wasn’t over—not by a long shot.
Carter’s boots pounded against the cold, grimy floor of the warehouse as he sprinted after Dexter. His eyes locked on his prey, whose silhouette darted between the junked cars and towering boats. Every step carried with it the weight of vengeance. Dexter had to pay, not just for what he had done to Jeremy and the kids, but for all the lives he had ruined.
As Carter closed the distance, he suddenly lost sight of Dexter in the maze of wreckage ahead. He skidded to a halt, his chest heaving, and scanned the chaos around him. His sharp gaze darted between the hulking shadows of rusting vehicles and twisted metal, his breaths coming in quick bursts. Where was he?
Before he could react, pain exploded at the back of his skull. A loud clang echoed through the space as a heavy object connected with his head. Carter’s vision blurred, the world tilting violently as he stumbled forward and hit the ground. Groaning, he clutched the back of his head, his fingers brushing against something warm and sticky. Blood.
A sharp kick to his stomach forced a strangled gasp from his lips. Pain lanced through his torso as he curled up slightly, his face twisting in agony. Above him, Dexter loomed with a twisted grin, his face contorted with rage and desperation.
“I’m going to kill you, you piece of shit!” Dexter screamed, his voice trembling with a mixture of fear and fury.
Through his daze, Carter lifted his head just in time to see Dexter charging at him with a metal rod raised high. Adrenaline surged through him as he rolled to the side, narrowly avoiding the deadly swing. The rod slammed into the floor with a metallic clang, sending sparks flying.
Carter seized the opportunity. With a guttural growl, he lashed out with his leg, his foot connecting squarely with Dexter’s knee. Dexter let out a bloodcurdling scream as his leg buckled, and he collapsed to the ground, clutching his injured knee in agony.
Pushing himself to his feet, Carter’s body trembled with a mix of exhaustion and fury. He advanced on Dexter, his vision narrowing as he grabbed the man by his hair and yanked him upright. Dexter’s cries of pain fell on deaf ears.
“You don’t get to walk away from this!” Carter snarled, his voice thick with rage.
With a burst of strength, Carter slammed Dexter against the side of a boat, the impact reverberating through the air. Dexter groaned, barely able to defend himself before Carter dragged him to a nearby car. He shoved him forcefully against the car’s boot, the dull thud of impact making Dexter wince. But Carter wasn’t done.
Gripping Dexter’s hair tighter, he slammed the man’s face into the car window with all his might. The glass shattered instantly, shards scattering like deadly confetti as Dexter’s face collided with the jagged remains. Blood smeared across the fractured surface, and Dexter let out a pained scream, his face bruised and bleeding.
Dexter’s confidence evaporated, replaced by raw fear. His wide, bloodshot eyes stared at Carter, who loomed over him like an avenging spirit.
“P-please…” Dexter stammered, his voice trembling. “Please… don’t…”
Carter wasn’t moved. Rage burned in his chest, fueled by the memories of all the pain and suffering Dexter had caused. He yanked the car door open, shoving Dexter into it so he crumpled onto the floor. The once-smug criminal now cowered, wincing with every movement as his mangled body betrayed him.
But Carter wasn’t finished. His eyes darkened as he remembered that Dexter had killed his Jeremy. Without a word, he raised his foot and kicked the car door with brutal force. It slammed shut violently against Dexter’s left hand, which had been hanging limply over the edge.
A deafening scream tore from Dexter’s throat as the door crushed his hand.
“No! No, stop! Please!” he wailed, his cries echoing through the cavernous space.
Carter’s expression was unrelenting, his face a mask of cold fury. He kicked the door again, the brutal force driving it harder against Dexter’s already mangled hand. Bones cracked audibly, and Dexter’s screams reached an unbearable pitch as he writhed in agony.
Carter stepped back, his chest heaving, as Dexter clutched his ruined hand to his chest, trembling violently. Tears and blood streamed down his face as he whimpered like a beaten animal. Carter raised his foot to kick the door again, but just as he moved, Dexter pulled his hand free and scrambled out of the car.
Despite the searing pain in his hand, Dexter ran, staggering and clutching his arm as he darted away. Carter growled and took a step forward, ready to chase him, when the distant sound of a chopper's blades reached his ears. Dexter was making a break for the roof.
Dexter’s path led him through a stack of boxes. As he ran, he shoved them down into Carter’s path, creating an obstacle course of chaos. Carter tripped, hitting the ground with a sharp grunt. He scrambled to his feet, his gaze locked on Dexter’s retreating figure.
Fueled by sheer determination, Carter pushed forward, navigating the stairs as Dexter climbed the concrete steps toward the roof. Above them, the sound of the helicopter grew louder, the rhythmic thwap-thwap-thwap signaling its descent.
Reaching the roof, Dexter stumbled forward, clutching his crushed hand as he ran toward the waiting chopper. Its blades kicked up a storm of wind and debris, but he didn’t care. Freedom was just within reach.
Dexter reached the chopper, the blades roaring loudly above him, whipping the air into a frenzy. He flung himself inside, clutching his mangled hand as he screamed at the pilot.
“Go! Go now, damn it!” he bellowed, panic and desperation dripping from his voice.
The chopper jerked upward, its skids leaving the rooftop. Dexter scrambled to position himself inside, one hand grasping a rail for balance. But before he could settle, a force yanked him backward by the hair. His scream was drowned out by the sound of the blades as his body was dragged from the helicopter and thrown onto the cold rooftop with a sickening thud.
“Wait! Come back!” Dexter shrieked, scrambling to his knees. His voice was raw, his eyes wide and desperate as he waved at the chopper. “Don’t leave me! Please!”
The pilot, oblivious to Dexter’s cries, continued the ascent. The chopper rose higher and higher, becoming a dark silhouette against the night sky. Dexter’s outstretched hand fell limp, his hope dissolving into despair. He collapsed onto the ground, tears streaming down his face as he mumbled, “No… no… come back…”
Behind him, Carter’s voice cut through the chaos, sharp and filled with unbridled fury.
“Did you think you could just get away with it? With everything? With killing everyone?”
Dexter turned, his tear-streaked face pale as he met Carter’s gaze. Carter’s voice trembled, not just with rage but with pain.
“You don’t get to walk away from this, Dexter. Not after Jeremy. Not after what you’ve done.”
Dexter’s breathing quickened, his chest heaving. Before he could respond, Carter stormed forward, grabbing him by the hair once more. Panic flared in Dexter’s eyes, and with a desperate cry, he reached for a nearby brick. His hand closed around the rough surface, and he swung it with all his might, connecting with Carter’s head.
The impact sent Carter stumbling back, his vision going white with pain as he hit the ground hard, groaning. Dexter stood over him, his lips curled in a snarl as he grabbed a wooden plank lying nearby.
“You think you can stop me?” Dexter growled, his voice shaking. He brought the plank down with brutal force, striking Carter across the chest. Carter gasped in pain, his body writhing as another blow landed on his shoulder.
Again and again, Dexter swung, his strength fueled by pure adrenaline. Carter’s body convulsed with every hit, but he refused to give in. Summoning the last reserves of his strength, Carter swung his leg upward in a desperate arc. His foot connected squarely with Dexter’s stomach, sending the man staggering backward with a guttural cry.
Carter slowly rose to his feet, his body aching and weak. His eyes burned with determination as he launched himself at Dexter, landing a series of hard kicks to his ribs. Dexter gasped, stumbling toward the edge of the rooftop. His body teetered precariously, the cold wind whipping around him as he raised his hands in surrender.
“Please…” Dexter begged, his voice trembling. Blood dripped from his face as he held up his good hand, pleading with Carter. “I’ll go to the police! I’ll confess everything! Just—just don’t kill me!”
Carter stepped closer, his fists clenched, his breaths heavy and uneven. His face was an unreadable mask, his eyes dark with pain and anger. He loomed over Dexter, his voice low and venomous.
“Go to hell,” Carter spat.
With a final, brutal kick to Dexter’s chest, Carter sent him flying backward. Dexter’s scream echoed into the night as his body fell off the rooftop, his arms flailing. The fall seemed endless, his life flashing before his eyes in a cascade of regrets and fear.
Then, silence.
Dexter’s body came to a gruesome halt, impaled on the rusted mast of an old ship below. The sharp metal pierced through his chest, blood pouring from the wound and staining the wood beneath him. His head lolled to the side, his breaths shallow and labored. His wide, terror-stricken eyes stared unseeingly into the night sky as the last flicker of life drained from him. With one final, rattling gasp, his body went still.
From the rooftop, Carter peered down at Dexter’s lifeless form. The sight of his enemy’s end should have brought satisfaction, but instead, it brought a wave of overwhelming emotion. His knees buckled, and he collapsed onto the cold ground.
His breaths came in shuddering gasps, his chest heaving as his hands trembled violently. The adrenaline that had fueled him drained away, leaving only exhaustion and sorrow in its wake. His vision blurred with tears as the weight of everything crashed down on him—the fight, the losses, Jeremy’s death, and now, the monster he had become to stop Dexter.
Carter pressed his palms to his face, muffling a broken sob as his body shook. The rooftop was silent now, save for his ragged breathing. He sat there in the stillness, feeling utterly drained, his strength and resolve leaving him entirely
The night air was biting, but it was nothing compared to the icy emptiness spreading in his chest. He had won—but at what cost? The man he had fought for, the one who had meant everything to him, was gone. Jeremy was gone.
“Jeremy!” Carter screamed, his voice raw, the name tearing through the night like a wounded animal’s cry. “Why did you leave me?!”
His fists pounded the ground as if trying to fight the cruel reality that surrounded him. He screamed Jeremy's name again and again until his voice broke, his throat raw and his body utterly spent.
He collapsed forward, his forehead resting against the cold surface beneath him, sobs racking his frame. The fight was over, but victory had never felt so hollow. The emptiness swallowed him whole, and for the first time in years, Carter felt truly alone.
But then—like a whisper against the roar of his pain—he heard his name.
"Carter..."
It was faint, almost drowned out by the beating of his own heart, but it was unmistakable. His breath hitched, and he froze, lifting his head in disbelief. He heard it again, clearer this time.
“Carter...”
He turned his head toward the sound, his eyes wide and frantic. And then he saw him.
Jeremy.
He was staggering toward him, his face pale and strained, one arm clutched tightly to his abdomen, where blood seeped through his fingers. He looked as if he had fought his way out of death itself, but he was alive. He was here.
Carter’s mouth fell open, shock paralyzing him for a heartbeat. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing.
“J-Jeremy?” he choked out, his voice trembling.
Jeremy’s lips curled into a faint, pained smile as he struggled to close the distance.
“It’s... me...”
Carter didn’t wait another second. With a strangled cry, he scrambled to his feet and ran toward Jeremy. The world blurred around him as all he could see was Jeremy, alive and breathing, standing before him. When he reached him, Carter threw his arms around him, pulling him into a fierce embrace.
Both men collapsed to the ground under the force of Carter’s momentum, Jeremy groaning softly as they landed. Carter didn’t care. He held Jeremy tightly, as if letting go would make him disappear again. His hands gripped the back of Jeremy’s jacket, his tears soaking into his shoulder as he sobbed uncontrollably.
“You’re alive,” Carter whispered, his voice breaking. “You’re alive. I thought I lost you. I thought—” His words were cut off as his sobs overtook him.
Jeremy wrapped his free arm around Carter, his fingers weak but steady as they tangled in his hair.
“I’m here,” he murmured, his voice low and hoarse. “I’m here, Carter. I’m not going anywhere.”
Carter pulled back just enough to see Jeremy’s face, his hands cupping his cheeks as his tear-filled eyes searched his features. Without thinking, he leaned in and pressed his lips to Jeremy’s in a desperate, messy kiss.
Jeremy kissed him back with just as much fervor, his hand sliding to the back of Carter’s neck as they both poured everything they had into that moment. Their tears mixed as their lips moved together, the kiss raw and full of the pain, relief, and love they had bottled up for so long.
When they finally broke apart, both of them were crying again, their foreheads pressed together as they tried to catch their breaths.
"I thought I lost you," Carter whispered, his voice trembling. "I thought you were gone for good."
Jeremy reached up and wiped a tear from Carter’s cheek, his hand shaking.
“I almost was,” he admitted, his voice thick with emotion. “But I couldn’t leave you, Carter. Not like this. Not ever.”
Carter let out a shaky laugh, a mixture of relief and disbelief. He hugged Jeremy again, burying his face in his neck, feeling his warmth, his heartbeat, his life. They stayed there on the cold rooftop, wrapped in each other’s arms, the world around them fading into nothing. For now, in this fragile, fleeting moment, they had each other—and that was all that mattered.
***
Carter’s voice filled the room, steady and reflective, as he stared at the photograph of his family on the wall.
It’s been almost four years since my father first father died. I still look for him every morning when I wake up, and I think of him every night before I sleep.
But I know he’s happy, wherever he is. And I know that someday, we’ll all be together again—Mom, Ethan, and me. A lot has happened, but right now, we’re okay. We’re fine.
Carter paused, his eyes softening as he reached for the steaming mug of coffee on the table beside him.
‘If you could see me now, Dad, I think you’d be proud of me. Despite everything I’ve been through, I’ve held on to your teachings. I’ve stayed true to who I am.
I might have someone new father in my life, but I’ll never forget you. And if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that no matter what life throws at you, there’s always hope. As long as you let love into your heart.’
*
Carter was seated at his dining table, bathed in the warm glow of sunlight streaming through the large window behind him. His hair was neatly styled, and his skin seemed to radiate peace and contentment. He wore a casual sweater, the soft fabric complementing his serene demeanor as he stared at the screen of his laptop.
On the screen, Leonardo was smiling, his face brighter than Carter had seen it in years. He looked healthier, happier, a man who had finally found peace.
“How’s Singapore treating you?” Carter asked, leaning forward slightly, his eyes full of genuine interest.
Leonardo chuckled, brushing a strand of graying hair back.
“Better than I expected. The restaurant’s finally up and running, and business is booming. You should see the lines outside—it’s surreal.”
Carter smiled warmly.
“I’m so happy for you. After everything you’ve been through, you deserve this.”
Leonardo’s expression softened, his voice growing tender.
“I miss you so much, Carter.”
“I miss you too,” Carter replied, his voice thick with emotion. “But I know this is where you need to be right now. And honestly, just knowing you’re happy makes me happy too.”
Leonardo tilted his head, a playful grin appearing on his face.
“You know all you have to do is say the word, and I’ll be on the next flight home.”
Carter laughed softly. “I know, but not yet. You’re exactly where you’re supposed to be.”
Just then, Sheila appeared on the screen, her arm wrapping around Leonardo as she greeted Carter with a bright smile. “Hey, Carter! It’s so good to see you!”
“Aunt Sheila,” Carter said with a chuckle, “it’s good to see you too. How are you holding up with this guy?”
Sheila laughed, her eyes twinkling as she glanced at Leonardo.
“Oh, you know, it’s a full-time job keeping him in line.”
Leonardo playfully kissed her cheek, and Carter couldn’t help but laugh at how happy they looked together. They chatted for a while longer, exchanging stories and laughter, until the call came to an end.
As the screen darkened, Carter sat back in his chair, a serene smile on his face. His voice returned, calm and thoughtful.
‘When you’re truly happy, you spread that happiness to everyone around you. It becomes contagious, a ripple effect that touches lives in ways you can’t imagine. That’s why I’ve chosen to love, to forgive, and to be happy. Because in the end, that’s what life is all about.’
“Carter!”
His name being called broke his thoughts, and he turned to see Eric standing in the doorway, his arms crossed and a teasing smirk on his face.
“Why are you smiling like that?” Eric asked, raising an eyebrow.
Carter rose from his chair and walked toward him, wrapping his arms tightly around him in a sudden hug.
Eric blinked in surprise but eventually patted Carter’s back.
“What’s this about?”
“I’m just appreciating the people I have around me,” Carter said softly. “How far we’ve come, and how happy we all are.”
Eric pulled back slightly, looking into Carter’s eyes with a playful grin.
“Even though we didn’t end up together?” he teased, winking.
Carter rolled his eyes and playfully swatted Eric’s arm.
“Yes, even though we didn’t end up together. Because you ended up with someone even better than me.”
As if on cue, Jeff walked in, his face lighting up when he saw them.
“What are you two conspiring about?”
Carter turned to Jeff with a smile.
“We were just talking about you two.”
Jeff chuckled and leaned in to kiss Eric softly, the affection between them evident.
Carter watched them with a warm smile as the three of them left the room together, their laughter filling the air. His voice echoed one last time as they disappeared down the hallway.
‘Life might not always be perfect, but it can be full of love and happiness. And that’s more than enough for me.’
***
Carter stood in a field of wildflowers near the sea, the endless horizon stretching before him. The cool breeze danced through his hair, tousling it gently as he lifted his chin and closed his eyes, letting the salty air fill his lungs. A smile bloomed across his face, serene and unrestrained. He wore a flowing white shirt, unbuttoned, and simple white shorts, his silhouette bathed in the golden hues of the sun. In that moment, he looked almost angelic, a man at peace with himself and the world around him.
Opening his eyes, Carter leaned down and plucked a single flower from the field. He held it delicately, turning it in his fingers as if the petals held a secret just for him. The soft pink of the flower seemed to smile back at him. His voice, calm and reflective, began to narrate once more.
‘Sometimes, the love we cherish the most is the same love that hurts us the deepest. That pain, that heartbreak, it shapes you—changes you—until one day, you hardly recognize yourself. Jeremy and I felt that. We lived through it. But true love… true love has the power to heal.
It leads to forgiveness, and that forgiveness doesn’t just mend broken hearts—it transforms them. It teaches you that love isn’t about perfection or possession.
It’s about understanding, acceptance, and selflessness.
It’s a love that doesn’t hurt, a love that completes not just your heart but your soul.’
The sound of soft footsteps through the grass made Carter turn, and his smile widened as Jeremy appeared behind him. Jeremy’s own white shirt billowed lightly in the breeze, unbuttoned to match Carter’s, and his shorts revealed his tanned legs. His handsome face was lit up with a radiant smile as he stepped closer and wrapped his arms tightly around Carter’s waist, lifting him effortlessly and spinning him around. Carter’s laughter rang out, light and full of joy, as Jeremy set him down gently.
Carter turned to face him, and Jeremy immediately took his hands in his, bringing them to his lips. He kissed them softly, his gaze locked with Carter’s, filled with love and promise.
“We’ve been through so much,” Jeremy said, his voice low and full of emotion. “We’ve been broken, we’ve healed, and we’ve come out stronger. This—us—this is our beginning. I promise you, Carter, from this day forward, I’ll never let you cry alone. I’ll never let sadness touch you—not under my watch.”
Jeremy cupped Carter’s cheeks, his thumbs brushing tenderly against his skin.
“I love you. I love you so much, now and forever. And I promise, with everything I am, that I’ll spend the rest of my life making sure you know it.”
Carter’s eyes sparkled as he smiled, the space between them disappearing as they leaned in, their foreheads touching. Just as their lips were about to meet, a pair of excited voices broke the stillness.
“Dad! Daddy!”
Both Carter and Jeremy turned to see Andrew and Oliver running toward them, their faces lit with excitement, their arms flailing as they shouted joyfully. Carter and Jeremy exchanged a quick glance and a laugh before they crouched down, arms wide open, ready to catch their sons.
The boys crashed into their fathers, wrapping their small arms around them tightly. The four of them fell onto the soft grass in a tangle of laughter, love, and happiness. Andrew and Oliver immediately started running through the field, their giggles echoing against the sound of the waves.
Carter and Jeremy lay on the grass, watching their boys with smiles that could rival the sun. Carter turned his head to look at Jeremy, and Jeremy met his gaze. Without a word, they leaned toward each other, their lips meeting in a kiss that spoke of everything they had endured, everything they had found, and everything they still had to look forward to.
‘Love isn’t just about who or what we love—it’s also about finding ourselves. Because every journey into love is also a journey into the deepest parts of our own hearts, where we discover who we truly are.’
My name is Carter.
And this… this was my story.
The end….
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