Chapter 307: The Confrontation

David’s POV

Rachel leaned forward in her chair, eyes glittering like she’d just won the lottery.

Her voice dropped low, silky and cruel, dragging out every word like she was savoring the taste. “And now…shall we begin with the game?”

My blood boiled over. “To hell with your stupid game!” I roared, yanking against the hands pinning my arms. “Holly’s bleeding, she needs a hospital right now. Let her go. Take me instead, do whatever you want to me, but let her go!”

Justin’s head snapped up. His face crumpled, hurt flashing raw in his swollen eyes. “What about me?” he whispered, voice small and broken like when we were kids and Dad would scream at him.

Why the hell is he still pretending?

I couldn’t bear to look at him. “Enough,” I snarled, the words ripping out of me. “I’m done. Tired of being the scapegoat. Tired of being the dumping ground for you and Dad my whole damn life. For once…just once, Justin… I’m putting myself first. I’m being selfish because I deserve to be!”

Justin blinked at me, confusion twisting his features like I’d spoken another language. “Davy… what are you talking about?”

The old nickname hit me like a fist to the chest. Davy. The name he’d whisper when he’d crawl into my bed after a nightmare, back when I started accepting him as my brother.

This manipulative psychopath thinks he can call me sweetly, and I’ll start wagging my tail like a puppy?!

I groaned, dragging a hand down my face even though the goons still held me. “Stop pretending, Justin. When are you gonna drop the act? It’s getting old already.”

He just stared, eyes wide and lost. “I… I don’t know what you mean.”

“The murders!” I exploded. I’ve had enough. “Cops found a girl’s body in your apartment. They’re tearing the city apart looking for you. This time it’s bigger than anything before, and I’m not sticking my neck out to save you again. So whether you leave here or not, one way or the other, you will still end up behind bars.”

Tears gathered in Justin’s eyes, spilling over fast. “I haven’t been home since last night. How could I have killed someone? Who even is the girl?”

“Your neighbor,” I spat. “Stop pretending.”

“Thelma? I didn’t kill anyone! How could I have killed her?” he screamed, voice cracking, tears streaming now. “I won’t kill anyone! How could you think that of me, David? How?!”

I felt sick hearing him cry, because for a second there, I almost fell for it. “Shut up. I’m done fighting for you. You’re on your own from here.”

I turned back to Rachel, chest heaving. “Let Holly go. I’ll do anything you want.”

She scoffed, crossing her legs like we were chatting over coffee. “This isn’t a negotiation, Mason Brown. You’ll do exactly what I want… or none of you leave here alive.”

Justin cut in, voice trembling but soft. “David… please. I know I have weird hobbies, probably need to check into some psych place one day, but murder? Why would you accuse me of that? Aren't you the murderer?” He jerked his chin at me, eyes desperate. “The one who broke our family apart? Led to my mom’s death? Dad ending up sick in bed for years? Aren’t you the Dark Prince of Manhattan?”

The words landed like acid in my stomach. I felt my face twist in disgust. “You disgust me. You really think you can keep playing the innocent little brother and I’ll just take the fall again? Maybe I need to remind you about the items…the trophies from those dead girls you kept hidden in the basement of our old house.”

Justin looked completely lost, like a scared kid stuck alone in the woods at midnight. “What… What are you even talking about? Can you hear yourself? David, I don’t—”

Inside my head it all rushed back… The moment my father ordered me to burn every sick thing Justin collected before he got home from school that day. The hair clips, the bracelets, the little notes with girls’ names, the backpacks.

I was supposed to get rid of it all. But I didn’t. I’ve been hiding them all along. In fact, I have them with me…locked away in the basement of my current home.

I couldn’t bear to get rid of the evidence…although I told everyone that I did.

I kept telling myself I was protecting him, protecting the family. When Justin came home and heard what happened, he lost his mind. The shock made him forget what he did and what he’s capable of doing. Or…could it be that he has been pretending all along?

He looked utterly lost as he kept staring at me, like a little kid dropped in the middle of a nightmare forest at midnight…eyes wide, mouth trembling, snot and blood mixing as he sobbed harder.

“You better snap out of whatever mental block you have and remember the basement and your fucking sick trophies!” I said to him coldly.

“What trophies? What basement? David, I don’t… I don’t remember any of that! Why are you doing this to me? You’re my big brother! You’re supposed to protect me, aren’t you? I know we fight… I know I always say that I hate you… but come on, David. Why are you going this far?”

The words hit like knives. I felt my chest cave in, years of buried pain ripping open.

“Protect you? I did protect you! Every single time since that day! Your mother found your sick little collection and it destroyed her. She couldn’t take it…couldn’t bear that her sweet boy is a murderer. She had a heart attack and died on the spot. Father beat the hell out of me so you wouldn’t have to feel it. I took every rumor, every punch, every headline calling me the Dark Prince of Manhattan…so you could stay the golden boy! And you just… you just kept smiling like nothing happened!”

Justin’s sobs turned into guttural, choking sounds. He thrashed against his ropes, face red and twisted. “No…no, that’s not true! You’re lying! You broke us! Tell me you’re lying!”

“The truth, brother,” I said, voice cracking, “is that you are the Dark Prince of Manhattan. I was made the sacrificial lamb so you could keep living a normal life. Even our father couldn’t believe I was innocent. I took every dirt so you wouldn’t have to.”

The room went dead quiet except for our breathing. Justin’s face crumpled completely, shoulders shaking with sobs. “No… no, that’s not true… David, please, I swear I don’t remember any of that. I was just a kid… I didn’t do anything! Why are you turning on me now? Why are you making me into a monster?!”

“Stop!” Holly whispered from the floor, voice hoarse and broken. Tears streamed silently down her bruised cheeks as she curled in on herself. “Both of you… please just stop. I can’t… I can’t watch this…”

I couldn’t breathe. My little brother…the kid I was forced to love and protect, the one I’d lied for, bled for…was looking at me like I was the monster. And part of me still wanted to rush over and hold him like I did when he was twelve. But the other part…the part that had carried the weight for years…wanted to scream until the building came down.

Rachel started clapping…slow at first, then faster, her laugh bubbling up loud and delighted, echoing off the concrete walls like we were her personal theater.

“Oh my God, this is pure drama! Who needs a cinema when you’ve got this much entertainment right here? I’m naming it right now… The Hunt Brothers: Blood Ties and Body Bags!”

She wiped a fake tear from her eye, still giggling.

“But before the game I’ve planned for all of you…

I’d like to tell you a very long story. One my father orchestrated from scratch. One that has the two of you as the main characters…”