I couldn't find a suitable job after graduation because of the high unemployment rate, but I managed to land a job as an Uber driver. Over time, I rented a better apartment and stayed in contact with the boys.
One afternoon, I received a ride order from the airport. Within five minutes, I was there, ready to pick up whoever had booked the ride,and there he was. Peter.
The man responsible for the death of my entire family.
He stood there with a beautiful dark-skinned woman and four children, all smiling. There was a girl about twelve years old and three babies—triplets, I guessed—barely a year old. Thirteen years had passed since the night he destroyed my life.
Peter looked at me for a few seconds before entering the car. He didn't recognize me—and I was glad. During the ride, they laughed and talked, holding the babies joyfully. The girl sat in front, cradling one of the triplets in her arms.
As I drove, I imagined my brother with his own family… my parents smiling, proud. My eyes welled with tears. I wiped them quickly and put on my glasses. From their conversation, I gathered they would be in the country for nine days.
I took them to the house—his parents' new home, I assumed. Mr. and Mrs. Johnson were waiting there to welcome them. They were too excited to notice me, and that gave me relief. I didn't want to be noticed.
Peter paid me, and I left. I drove straight home, done for the day. I walked into the bathroom, turned on the shower, and cried my heart out under the running water.
By nine in the evening, I picked up my phone and dialed the boys.
"Hell Lord. Death. Suffer King. We got a business tonight."
I'd never called them for any mission before, so when I did, they knew this was different. Ten minutes later, they arrived at my place, masks on. I wore mine too and drove them to Peter's house.
When we arrived, I knocked on the gate. The gatekeeper came out to see who was there. I pointed a gun at him and whispered,
"Step aside."
He obeyed without a word. I tied him to a pillar and taped his mouth. Loud music blasted from inside—they wouldn't hear a thing. Death opened the big gate, and I drove in..