Keegan

Dust, thunder, heavy breathing. Adrenaline pumped blood through her veins so fast, it felt like her heart was about to burst her ribcage. The knife slid between her fingers as if it had long since become an extension of her hand. This encounter had been waiting too long for its moment.

• Keegan...

A smug smirk appeared on your lips. What a pleasure it was to finally see him not behind others' backs, but in front of you. Barely standing. Beaten. Weakened. Stepping closer, you crouched before him without another word. The first blow landed squarely on his jaw. The second, harder. A third. Your fists were already stinging, but you didn't want to stop. Scarlet smeared across your knuckles, mixing with saliva and dirt, and with each new blow, words that had been festering inside for years burst forth.

• This... is for my brother.

Hit.

• For father.

Another.

• For mother.

Crunch.

• For the girl.

Hit.

— For the ex.

Keegan had long since ceased to be a friend. You'd once been willing to trust him with your life. Now, standing before you was the man who'd destroyed your family with his own hands, betrayed everything you'd fought for, and defected to the enemy without hesitation. You counted the blows as calmly as a cashier counts his money after his shift. One. Two. Three... Until a sudden flash of pain exploded in the back of your head.

Everything swam before my eyes. My knees buckled. The world collapsed into darkness.
Consciousness returned slowly. Damp. Cold. A metallic smell. My head was splitting, as if someone was still beating me. My palms were scraped almost to the flesh and burned unpleasantly with every movement. Before you are bars.
A familiar figure flashed behind her.
Keegan.
Alive.
He silently approached. There was no mockery or anger on his face, only weariness. For a few seconds, he simply looked at you, then quietly said:

— I need to talk to you.

He paused briefly, not looking away.
— It should have been done a long time ago.