Page 30 of Dark Visions (Strange Gifts #1)

“I’m really glad you came out tonight, Michael,” said Christopher.

“Me too. I’m sorry I’ve been so different,” he said, looking down at his drink. “It’s just been so hard… so…”

“You don’t have to explain it to me. You’re my brother. I love you. You know that. I’d do anything for you, Michael.” He leaned forward in the booth, closer to his brother. “What’s going on, Michael? Was I arrested because of… was I arrested because of something you did?”

Michael looked up at his brother, the face so familiar to him. It was his face. Michael Charles and Matthew Christopher Krauss born six minutes apart. Identical in every way, his brother possessed his face, his body, his voice, everything. They had been inseparable as children. One another’s playmate, best friend, and confidante.

They attended college together and followed the same path, medicine. Both had chosen emergency medicine with an emphasis on trauma. When it came time to choose a hospital, they decided it was best to separate and not confuse staff and patients. He missed his brother every day, but never more than the night his wife and son were killed.

In their urgency to get care for the victims, the paramedics chose a hospital closer to the scene, but one that was woefully prepared for trauma. If they had only taken them to his brother’s hospital, both might be here, safe, unharmed, and alive today.

Instead, the agony of their loss consumed his every waking moment. The only relief had come when the young woman, Deborah, had proposed a little fun and, in the process, perhaps find the couple responsible for the deaths of his wife and son. He never meant for it to get so far out of control. The visit to the club had been out of curiosity, in the hopes that he would see someone, find someone with guilt written across their forehead. As if they would just jump out from the crowd.

Instead, Deborah had approached him.

At first, it was easy, a little rough play between the two of them. Something that allowed him to release his anger. She liked it. She liked it a lot. It was never enough for her, though. She wanted more. More violence, more violation, more everything.

When she suggested that it might be a way for them to find the killers of his family, he immediately fell in step with her. Until the last couple. He had known the minute he saw them that they weren’t guilty. Something in his heart knew. Yet he did it anyway. He killed that poor couple. He was guilty, and now his brother would suffer because of his desire for retribution.

“Michael? Michael, please talk to me,” said Christopher, reaching for her brother’s hand.

“I’m so sorry, Christopher, so very sorry. I never meant for you…” He choked back a sob, pulling his hand out of his brother’s grasp.

“Oh God,” whispered Christopher, “you’re involved.”

“I-I never meant for it to go this far. I thought… I thought if I could find the couple who killed them, I thought I could… I’m so sorry,” he sobbed.

“Michael, we have to go to the police. You can’t live with the guilt of this. I can’t live with this. We have to talk,” he whispered to his brother.

He scanned the room quickly to ensure that no one was watching their little interlude. The restaurant was nearly empty at this late hour, except for one table. The woman looked familiar, her long hair and big eyes telling him that he knew her. Combine that with the big man sitting next to her, and he knew that he’d seen them in the emergency room.

“Michael, listen to me. Michael!” he yelled. “We need to leave here, now. Let’s go.”

“No, no, Christopher, you’ve done enough. I can’t do this anymore.”

“Michael,” he called, watching his brother stand from the table. “Michael, please, I’ll go with you. We’ll fix this together.”

“It can’t be fixed,” he said, turning toward his brother.

He looked toward the only other table with people. Four tall men stood, a small woman positioned behind them protectively. He felt an uneasy awareness at their presence. Looking back at his brother, he knew what had to be done. Reaching inside his jacket, he pulled out the small .38 caliber that he carried with him.

“I’m sorry, Christopher,” he said, pointing the gun to his temple. “I love you.”

“NO!!!” The scream of Christopher Krauss echoed over the gunfire. It was the last thing Aislinn heard as she fell into the arms of Kane Jackson.