Came Back to Bury Them

I lunged forward and slammed my elbow straight into Digby's nose.

There was a sharp crack as bone gave way, and blood burst out instantly. Digby screamed and staggered back, clutching his face.

I rushed to Jerry, pulled him up, and lifted his thin shirt.

Jerry's bony back was covered in whip marks and cigarette burns, layers of old and fresh scars stacked over each other. It was horrifying.

Some of the burns were still oozing pus, giving off a sour, rotten smell. The cuts on his arms had scabbed over but were swollen and infected.

Jerry was autistic, but he had been a gentle and obedient kid since he was little.

And this was what they had done to him.

"Who did this?" My voice was ice-cold.

Jerry trembled all over. He hugged his head and whispered, barely audible, "Don't hit me… I'm a good boy… I'll move rocks…"

I couldn't even imagine what my brother had been put through.

Marshall, that heartless piece of trash… I was still alive, and he couldn't wait to cheat, let his people and his mistress abuse my family, and even desecrate the dead!

I bit down hard on my lip until I tasted blood, barely holding back the rage boiling inside me.

I pulled out my phone and was about to call 911 when Digby snatched it away and smashed it on the ground.

"Calling the cops?" he sneered. "It's pointless! Mr. Gray will make the matter disappear."

He pointed to a large pit nearby, which had been dug out for an artificial lake on the golf course. The bottom was filled with broken rocks and rusted steel bars sticking out at odd angles.

"You want your idiot brother to stop suffering?" he said with a vicious grin. "Fine. Crawl in there and use your mouth to pick out every rock. Then I'll let him go. Go and fetch stones for Ms. Lawson like a good dog."

The crowd whispered among themselves. Some of them even took out their phones and started recording.

I looked at Jerry's terrified face, and my heart felt like it was being carved open.

He was shaking, but he recognized me now. His hands clutched my clothes tightly, as if he was afraid I would really jump into that pit.

"Tiff, Tiff… I'll do it…"

I was about to move when Jerry suddenly broke free from my grip and stumbled toward the pit.

"I'll do it… Don't hit us…" he kept repeating as he tried to jump down.

Something inside me snapped completely.

I grabbed half a brick from the ground and smashed it into the back of a guard's neck, then ripped the stun baton from his hand.

I drove it straight into Digby's thigh.

The baton crackled loudly. Digby screamed and collapsed, convulsing on the ground.

"Are you all dead or what?" Digby howled. "Get her! Cripple that tramp!"

The moment he finished speaking, more than ten guards rushed in. No matter how good I was at fighting, I couldn't take on that many trained men alone.

A baton smashed into my back. I stumbled, and the rest seized the chance to pin me down with riot shields and steel forks until I couldn't move.

Batons rained down on my back. It felt like my organs were being shaken loose. My throat filled with blood, and I spat it out.

"You crazy chick," someone yelled. "How dare you hit Mr. Wolfe! You're dead!"

A steel fork pressed against my neck. I couldn't breathe. My vision darkened.

Jerry cried nearby and tried to rush over, only to be kicked away. He crawled back up and grabbed Digby's pant leg.

"Don't hit her… I'll fetch the rocks… I'll do it… Don't hurt Tiff…"

Poor Jerry. He could barely get the words out, but he didn't care about the pain as he begged them to stop.

"Then hurry up, idiot," Digby sneered. "Stop talking. Go finish it, and I'll let her go."

"Okay…" Jerry stammered.