Killing Honor by S. M. Butler Read Free Book Online

had my gun. What the hell. I was home. A quick perusal of the kitchen showed no one there. Or outside on the back porch. And it was quiet. Too quiet. Even for a dream. I raised my gun up and proceeded to the stairs.
    Blood soaked the carpeted steps, so thick and crimson.
    “Hello?”
    No answer. This was my house. Why was the enemy here? Was it because they’d seen my face all those months ago? Had they returned for retribution? A lump stuck in my throat. Where was Devyn? Where were the girls? Were they safe? Were they upstairs? Panic seized hold of me, squeezing so tightly it was difficult to breathe.
    Then through the silence, the piercing cry of a toddler reached my ears. Was that Riley or Jackie? Were they hurt? I raced up the stairs, the blood squelching and bubbling around the sole of my shoes. My breath echoed in the silence, and I wondered if the whole world could hear it.
    I kept my gun parallel with the angle of the stairs, watching, waiting for something to jump out at me. At the top of the stairs, I heard a woman cry out, followed by babies giggling. And then more giggling.
    What was going on here?
    “Devyn?” I called out, though it probably wasn’t the smartest thing I’d ever done. Wasn’t this how horror movies went? Guy walks in, follows a weird trail of blood, finds his wife on the floor, and gets his head chopped off buy a creepy doll while he’s not looking. 
    I shuddered. “Devyn!” My voice was louder this time. I was getting desperate. This was my house. And there was blood on the stairs. And there was no sign of my family.
    I glanced up and down the hall the stairs opened out into. Nothing. And it was dark.
    The strangled cry came again, this time from the bedroom. My bedroom.
    Rushing down the hall, waiting for a silent moment before I threw open the door with my gun at the ready. That’s when I saw her. Devyn. My Devyn. My love. My wife. She wore a pastel blue sundress, but it was soaked with dark red blood. Her eyes were listless, vacant. Her slender fingers were covered in blood.
    I fell to my knees beside her, not caring that her warm, sticky blood soaked through my uniform trousers. Rage and sorrow spun inside my heart, squeezing it so tight, it was sure to pop. I pulled her into my arms, my hands sliding along her slippery skin.
    “Devyn!” My voice cracked midway through her name. I tried to pull her into my arms. Her head lolled back, lifeless, limp. Tears built behind my eyelids, blurring my vision. She couldn’t be dead. Not my Devyn. She wasn’t even supposed to be there. I wasn’t supposed to be there.
    “Devyn!” I screamed it at her again and again, but nothing happened. She didn’t wake up.
    I sobbed, like a fucking baby, touching my forehead to hers, my thumbs on her cheeks and my fingers tangled in her once brilliant auburn tresses. Her name left my lips over and over, and still she didn’t move. She wouldn’t ever move.
    The click of the safety moving caught my ear. Where was my gun? I’d had it beside me. I never set it down out of my sight. Yet, it had vanished. I turned my head, and there was Riley. With impossible strength for a toddler, she held my gun in her tiny hands. The gun was as big as she was. Her face was as vacant as Devyn’s when she leveled it at me.
    “Riley?” I set Devyn down and reached for my daughter. Her mouth opened in a wail that made my ears hurt and then she fired that gun. Light exploded around me, and then there was darkness.

Brody
    I shot up in my bed, my body quaking and a layer of cold sweat coating my skin. I gasped for breath. My entire body ached with the strain of tensed muscles.
    A fucking dream.
    “Brody?” Devyn’s sleepy voice relieved me more than I thought possible. I whirled around, cupping her face when she sat up. “What’s wrong?”
    I scanned her face, checking every little feature for any kind of injury. She was here. She was alive. Her warmth filled my hands, which were freezing against her skin. I ran