Cain’s car came to a halt at the traffic light. The windows were closed shut, preventing the pouring rain and the ice-cold wind from coming inside. In the backseat, slumped a quiet Johnny.

Cain wanted to say something to his brother. Something to comfort him from his grief. He decided against it. He felt that he would sound foolish, that he wouldn’t make any sense.

It’s been a week since Johnny had to bury his wife. The two were headed back home and were having a heated argument along the way. He had found out that his son, who had given him the will to work hard, wasn’t actually ‘his’.

His wife would keep sobbing, apologizing, telling him that she did this for him. He asked who the real father was, and when she confessed, he’d lost it. Amidst his blinding rage, he lost control of the car. It swerved and skidded, crashing with another oncoming car on the road. 

Johnny had survived with minor scrapes and bruises, she died on impact. Her death seemingly hit Johnny hard, emotionally.

In the overwhelming silence, Cain drummed his fingers in silence on the steering wheel, waiting impatiently for the traffic light to change from red to green.

The silence was disrupted by the front window. A man wearing a balaclava on his head pointed a gun at Cain’s head. “Get out! Both of you!” he yelled.

Both brothers hurriedly exited the car, with Cain shivering in fear in the pouring rain. He held his hands out and pleaded with the man. “Look, take whatever you want. Just don’t kill us, please!”

“I’m not going to kill you,” The masked man smirked as he lowered his gun and pointed behind him. Cain turned back to see Johnny, holding a pistol aimed at his head.

The shock was written all over Cain’s face, “Johnny, what are you doing?”

Cain could see the venomous rage in Johnny’s eyes, “I know it was you who was sleeping with her, you piece of shit”.

“Johnny, please,” he knelt, begging to be spared, “I can explain-“.

Bang bang! The gun went off. Johnny had no interest in hearing whatever flimsy excuse he was about to come up with.

Johnny tossed the gun to his partner. “All according to plan.”

The man readied himself, and aimed at Johnny’s shoulder, “What do we do with the car?”

“Sell it, discard it, burn itโ€ฆwhatever you want with it”.

The man slowly pulled the trigger and shot Johnny in the shoulder. Johnny grunted and winced in pain, he fell back, as his partner got into the car and drove off.

Johnny took out his phone and called 911. He already had thought of a backstory about his brother’s murder at the hands of a hijacker. If he was capable of getting away with murdering his wife by deliberately crashing their car, then he can get away with the murder of his once-trusted blood relative. The cops certainly would take the word of a man who was wounded in a hijacking.

Sometimes, broken hearts do insane things.