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19.

The rain is coming down like it’s the end of the world.

Driving like the elderly citizen he is, Kevin leans across the steering wheel, squinting his eyes to make out the road before him. Every now and then, he gives a big sigh of frustration, throwing his hands up in defeat as he curses the storm around us.

I dare a quick glance at Roland in the backseat. He’s been quiet for a while, ever since I asked him where he’s been.

It’s pretty obvious he wasn’t at the motel when we got there. He makes it seem as though we’re completely wrong about that, however. I just shrugged, deciding that there were more important, more urgent things to take care of at the moment. I’d wonder about Roland’s whereabouts later.

Miller’s phone call didn’t really come as a surprise. My car had a pretty clear GPS and by using a tracker, there wasn’t really much doubt about where it was at any given point in time. I’d called the police in Oklahoma beforehand, claiming my stolen car was heading their way.

It had raised some suspicions on how I was able to track a GPS like that, but I wasn’t fazed, telling them someone had to do, if they wouldn’t. I can’t say that had gone down all that well, but oh well. Authority and I had never been on a friendly basis.

Thom’s claim to be Brian hurt like a bitch, but not as much as it hurt to be forced to assert I didn’t know any Brian. I could feel Kevin’s accusing glare boring a way through the back of my head as I had purposely turned my back towards him as I spoke. It resulted in Kevin not saying a word either, apart from cursing the horrendous weather.

It was going to be a long drive.

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The weather has cleared for the most part as I pull up at the police station in Hobart, Oklahoma. The shining sun does not reflect the stormy mood I see when I look into the gaze of the man in the passenger side. Of course I’d be pissed as well when someone stole my car after drugging me in a forsaken motel. But there’s something else in Nick’s eyes too, something that scares the hell out of me.

I suppose it has something to do with the shady guy in the backseat. Every fibre in my body is screaming at me to get the hell away, take Nick with me and go back to normal life. Or to what extend that has been normal the last two months. My strange curiosity somehow wins over my rational sense and I cannot help but feel intrigued by this Roland figure.

Kevin Richardson, responsible, rational and careful father, husband and singer, embarking on a journey of drugs, missing persons, stolen cars and shady looking bearded guys. It gets funnier every time I think about it.

Is this what midlife crisis feels like?

Roland and Nick both haven’t made an attempt to get out of the car. Their expressions are pretty much unreadable but I can tell by the way Nick’s hands have turned into fists; he’s only barely containing his anger.

“Well, this has been lovely,” I mutter jokingly, as I open the car door slowly, “What do you say we get this thing done, boys?”

Roland is the first to come into action. He quickly opens the door and slams it shut, not giving Nick and I another glance as he heads towards the station.

Well, don’t wait for us.

“Nick?” I question, looking at the figure still in the passenger seat. He seems zoned out, almost like he’s in a trance or something. It’s not that big of a deal, cause he does that a lot of times, but it’s the shaking fists and the icy look I’m worried about. After a few seconds, he shakes his head, getting rid of the daze and nods surly.

“Let’s go.”

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“If you’ll follow me, gentlemen.” At the mention of a fairly high bail sum, Deputy Miller became all but extremely polite. Walking ahead, he leads us through a maze of hallways. For the quiet, sleeping town in Oklahoma, Hobart has quite the police station. I notice Kevin lurking behind, his frown growing deeper and deeper.

I make sure to keep my gaze on the ground, wondering how my band mate is going to react when he sees the prisoner.

“I wish you good luck with this one, fellas, he’s a real nut case. I’d say he’s a definite schizo, but that’s not really my department,” Miller rambles on and I notice Roland’s head shooting up at his words.

“How you reckon’ that?” He questions in concern.

“Well, judge for yourselves,” the Deputy replies as he finally swings open a door. We’re suddenly standing in a classic prison décor. Like we actually stepped into an old west movie and I instantly wonder whether all cells in the station look like this. Not much to my surprise, or to Roland’s, for that matter, there’s only one person inhabiting this room at the moment. Brian, no not Brian, stares defiantly at us, giving me the clear impression he’s intend in ripping our skins off when he can finally reach us. I bet he’d growl like an animal if that was appropriate. His hands are shaking in anger as they tightly clutch the cell’s bars, the handcuffs around his wrists rattling. I slowly shake my head and wish I could say I’d never thought I’d find myself in this position.

Shaking the close resemblance Brian, no not Brian, is making to my little brother out of my head, I defiantly stare back at this, this intruder. I open my mouth to say something, but Roland is faster.

“So, Kevin here bailed you out, you should thank him,” he sneers and only then it occurs to me to look and see how Kev is doing.

If I’d say Kevin is frozen to his spot, I’d make a great understatement. His face is completely white, but all the while expressionless and I actually think for a second his heart’s stopped. I’d expect him to yell, scream, shake, maybe even cry, but he just stands there, doing absolutely nothing. I don’t even suspect he’s actually really thinking something at the moment. Deciding it’s better to let Kevin sort things out for himself at the moment, I turn towards the prisoner again, who’s obviously ignoring Roland and his sneers.

Roland, nevertheless, rattles on and on and all the while, Thom’s gaze stays fixated on me. He’s challenging me to say something, to disclose everything and make a mistake so he can run again. The small smile on his lips makes me want to kick his ass into the next life, but something, the most peculiar detail stops me from doing it.

He’s still wearing Brian.

“What kind of sickening joke is this supposed to be?” Kevin’s small comment instantly shuts Roland up and we both whirl around to look at him.

“Kev, look I’ll explain everything once we’re out of here, it’s just…” I start, but Kevin stops me, holding up a warning hand.

“You! Him! What is this supposed to mean? Did you two find this funny? I was worried out of my skull about you two!” he yells, his volume rising with every word he speaks, “And who is he supposed to be then?” he spits as he points a shaking finger at Roland.

“It’s… it’s not what it looks like...” I try, already knowing I’m failing my defence horribly.

“No? Then what does it look like?” Kevin demands with a face contorted in anger and betrayal now. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Thom’s smile grow wider and it does nothing to calm my nerves. To be honest, I hadn’t really calculated Kevin’s reaction into the mix.

“Can… can’t we do this outside?” I squeal, looking nervously at Deputy Miller, whose watching the scene with a confused, but interested expression. I turn my helpless face towards Kevin again, hoping he’ll take my bait, but he seems on a roll now.

“Do the others know about this too? Have you told them you’ve found him?” Kevin questions furiously, his eyes boring into mine.

“N-no… no they don’t, please, just let’s go outside,” I reply, looking at him in despair.

“Excellent idea,” Roland chimes in, finally grabbing Thom by his jacket and dragging him across the room, “We need to have a nice long talk, young man.” He stops briefly, nodding at Miller, giving him a we-are-going-to-tear-him-a-new-one-for-causing-trouble assuring look. Thom doesn’t fight him, his smile growing even wider.

It’s giving me the creeps.

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Once outside, Roland shoves Thom onto a very abandoned parking lot outside town. The younger man stumbles, but stays on his feet. He looks up, his smile turning into a full, shark toothed, grin.

“You’re angry, Roland!” he exclaims, laughing maniacally at him. “So many frustrations, and you decide to take it out on a teenager?”

Roland ignores him and grabs Kevin, shoving him towards the captive. Kevin shoots me a confused look and I shrug, not knowing what to make of it.

“Kevin Richardson,” Roland begins, his voice clear and loud, echoing over the parking lot, “Meet Thomas Harold Burker, no not Brian Littrell, before you ask. They do share quite a resemblance, I’ll give you that.”

Thom is still smiling, not in the least intimidated, “What are you gonna do, Ro?” he questions, “Tell me, what are you going to do?”

“Something I should have done a really long time ago,” Roland growls and my heart skips a few beats as I hear the unmistakable click of a gun.

“No!” Kevin and I both yell at the same time.

The grin on Thom’s face wavers, but it doesn’t disappear, “You can’t shoot me, soldier,” he grumbles, “Shoot me, you’ll shoot this fine package.”

“Oh I don’t want to shoot you,” Roland assures, “But like I said before, I need you to confess.”

“Never,” Thom hisses.

The blast is loud and echoes for minutes, it seems. With wide-open mouth, I stare at Roland, and then back at Thom, whose eyes are just as big as mine now. The taunting smirk has completely left his face and panting, he stares back at Roland. I vaguely notice Kevin throwing me the Nick-we-should-run look, but I’m nailed to the ground, shaking as I watch the end of Roland’s gun still smoking. The bullet flew far across the parking lot and has probably hit a tree at the end, but excuse me, I’ve never seen a real gunshot before, and I’m allowed to be a little upset right now.

“I said I didn’t want to shoot you,” Roland sighs in regret, “but that doesn’t mean I won’t.”

Thom clenches his jaw, staring hard at his capturer.

“Now… confess.”
Chapter End Notes:
ah, we're getting there, finally :)