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Bubba moaned in fear once he heard Nubbins being dragged by Drayton inside the house. A bad mood. A long day. His stupid brothers. Drayton's many excuses, in the days where his temper calmed down fast enough to see the bright purple bruises on his brothers' skin before they ran away.
Nubbins blew a wet raspberry at Drayton's direction, causing the old man to scream louder and swing that broom faster. Poor Bubba made the grave mistake of looking. Drayton turned around, and looked at Bubba with his angry face.
"What the fuck are you looking at?"
He said it with his low, dangerous voice.
Which was scarier than his yell. Bubba whimpered and turned around, going back to fixing the fridge.
Nubbins ran into the kitchen, pushing Drayton out of the way and wrapping his arms around his younger brother. Nubbins got them both beat badly.
Bubba cried and cried, looking over at his new bruises as Bobby tried helping both him and his twin rub lard wherever it hurt.
"I didn't do anything."
Bobby looked at him sadly when he said that. Of course, he didn't outright say it, but it was understood nonetheless.
"Don't let cook wear you down, Bubba." Bobby comforted. "He's just an ass."
Both of the twins giggled, Bubba didn't.
It's hard to love his brother.
But Drayton's family. Him and his brothers knew that. You don't get rid of family. You don't hate family. You don't unnecessarily hurt family.
So he stayed silent, like he usually did. But still, the thought remained in his sad, sad head.
"I didn't do anything."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The day started normal. Drayton woke up, yelled at each of the boys their chores, and left in his shitty pickup truck.
The twins goofed around while barely completing their chores, and Bubba did all the heavy work.
The day went off the rails when Drayton came home early, scanning the house for his middle brothers.
Nubbins had convinced Bobby to go hitchhiking with him, fully convinced they were gonna come back before Drayton got off work. They didn't, obviously.
Drayton was pissed off at first, ranting to grandpa how much he hated those boys, and how much he wished they'd leave forever. Grandpa gave no response.
Bubba whimpered, the bruises from the night before beginning to ache suddenly. Drayton ran into the kitchen and stood by the doorway, his face scrunched up in anger.
The younger brother turned to look at him, having a death grip on the plate of potato salad he was about to eat. He expected him to run towards him, his fist raised before giving him a hard slap.
But he didn't. He looked at Bubba's scared expression and sighed loudly, almost disappointed with himself.
"Bubba..."
Drayton looked at him with the most sympathetic expression he had ever seen. Now, Bubba was confused. He didn't show it though, scared Drayton might react negatively if he saw it. Drayton was always good at reading faces.
"Come 'ere, Bubba."
Bubba, shaking, closed the fridge door. Drayton walked away, signaling his brother to follow him.
Bubba went after him to the living room.
Drayton walked up the stairs and sat down, motioning to him to join him. Bubba hesitantly walked towards him, sitting two steps below Drayton to rest his head on his lap.
He used to do it a lot when he was younger, resting his head on his lap after Drayton's long days or after his brothers pissed him off.
Of course, that was before Drayton found the better therapy of just hitting them all the time, for every minor inconvenience.
Before, beatings were for serious things. Now, that's just a funny joke.
The old man sighed and pushed his brother's face into his legs, gently petting his hair. Bubba cringed silently as he felt his rough fingers in his scalp.
Affection was one of the strangest things he could encounter, being as rare as an emerald. He held onto Drayton's knee and allowed him to continue.
"Ya' know you've always been ma' favorite, right Bubba?"
His eyes widened. He turned his sight to the sides of the walls, hoping his brothers hadn't come home all the sudden.
Of course his brothers didn't show up, but he still waited before raising his head to look at him in confusion.
Drayton smiled, tiredness in his eyes. And began caressing his cheek.
"Yer' brothers...I don't like yer' brothers. Yer' brothers bring this family down, Bubba."
Bubba's eyes saddened. He didn't like when people talked bad of his family.
He held the sides of his head and talked like it was a known fact. "Extra mouths to feed, more money to work for, screamin' much more than I need to. Don't ya' think it'll be easier without 'em?"
Bubba nodded. He knew it would. But he loved Nubbins and Bobby. And Drayton did as well.
"But I love them."
Drayton sighed.
"I know ya' do. Family...family is important. But when they cause more harm than good, you have to..."
Drayton didn't know a nice word. Bubba didn't understand.
But he looked at Drayton sadly, already thinking about how bad he was gonna beat his brothers when they came home.
"This house is loud with 'em, Bubba." He inched his face closer, digging his fingers into his hair. "And I know they don't let us sleep even after the long day me and you just had. They don't care much about me and you, Bubba. Or grandpa."
Bubba whimpered in response. It was true, Nubbins and Bobby spoke loudly deep into the night. But Drayton didn't know what he was talking about.
Nubbins and Bobby were loud, sure, but they cared a lot. They were family. Family was the most important thing to him.
Bubba squealed in loud disagreement and shook his head no. Drayton attempted to calm him by gently holding his face up and inching himself closer. He then spoke again.
"You were a pretty baby, Bubba." Drayton whispered. "You...you had a full head of hair before you were 2 years old. Yer' eyes were bigger than yer' mouth. You were easier to take care of, better than yer' brothers."
Bubba blinked his eyes slowly, wondering where Drayton had come up with the courage to talk about their infancy. Which he always said were the worst days of his life.
"Ya' barely cried, stayed still when you were on ma' hip. You were a sweet baby, Bubba. The sweetest baby I'd ever held."
He pushed the hair away from his face and pressed a small kiss to the tip of his nose, not caring if he was kissing the skin of a victim.
"Yer' brothers were always pieces of shit." He hugged his head, as if protecting him from the world. "I...I felt more human with just you, Bubba. Me and you."
Drayton ran those last words into his head again and again while still looking at his brother's eyes. Bubba blinked softly, wondering what kinda day Drayton had to have him like this.
"Me and you, Bubba. Doesn't that sound much better? Just me, you and grandpa."
Bubba would have shook his head no, but he feared Drayton will become violent if he disagreed. So he continued looking at him with a wondering look.
He didn't like that idea. All alone with just an angry Drayton? With grandpa who doesn't move. And without his brothers.
He loved his brothers. Why was Drayton telling him this?
But it seemed like Drayton could read his mind, or could just tell from just his face.
"I-I won't be mean. Y'know I'm only mean when I need to be. I almost never have to be mean to you, Bubba."
Bubba didn't have a reason to believe it.
"Yer'...Yer' older brother will have less gray hairs. A-And less mouths to feed, more time at home with you...a-a-and I won't drink as much...if only I had less weight to carry..."
He pressed another kiss to his face. Bubba's cheeks flushed at the attention. He doesn't remember the last time Drayton held him like this, his attention was something he always craved.
"Now...now why would yer' older brother be upset with you now that his biggest concerns are gone?"
He let out a chuckle while he said it.
Drayton held his brother's head closer, almost to his chest. He dug his nose and mouth into his hair, smelling a slight tingle of honeysuckle soap.
"Y-Ya' makes me the most proud, Bubba. You kill those weary travelers easily, and you feed yer' family."
He pulled his head back to look him in the eye.
"That's a great honor y'know, feedin' your family."
He sighed and buried his brother's head on his neck.
"Wear yer' Sunday best, alright? I-I'll make head cheese for you boys."
Bubba squealed happily. Head cheese! "Boys" meant his brothers would be joining them. Which, hopefully, meant Drayton isn't gonna force his brothers out like it sounded like.
He was starting to sound like he wanted them to leave. He didn't, just wished the'll behave. Common, overbearing Drayton. That's what Bubba told himself.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The head cheese curled in his stomach, ready to throw it up any second.
"D-Don't worry, Bubba." Nubbins comforted. "Just stay still, h-he'll get over it."
Nubbins was scared as well. His eyes wide, hot wet tears falling onto his cheeks as he looked at his brothers, trembling. Both he and Bobby sat on either side of Bubba, both holding onto a part of him.
They hid under a shelf in a closet, huddling together and making sure they didn't make too much noise.
It was a forgotten one on the downstairs floor, covered with dust and spiderwebs. Which wasn't very smart, but they hadn't had time to get to a proper spot. Bubba scanned all the items in his surroundings.
The old toaster, the ripped curtains, the broken vacuum, useless trinkets, piles of bloody clothes.
"What about grandpa?" Bobby asked, pressing his face against Bubba's shoulder.
They knew how grandpa had no way of defending himself if Drayton got to him. And that made their blood cold.
"Just b-b-be quiet...D-Drayton won't h-h-hurt grandpa."
They huddled closer together, all knowing even that wasn't guarantied.
Another scream of anger from the old man outside, a loud bang from the shotgun.
Bubba wiped his tears away and allowed his brothers to hold his tighter, so hard it started to ache.
After what happened earlier in the day, Bubba expected Drayton to go easy on them. He made head cheese after all, and kissed his face. Drayton never kisses his face. He's got to be in a super good mood to do that-
BANG
They cried out and huddled deeper into the shelf. They tucked their feet to their chests and cried quietly.
When the twins got home, he screamed, hit and chased them. But he usually did that. Pulling out their old shotgun was something he never did.
In the middle of dinner too, when the younger boys were joking around. He didn't think it was loaded at first, but it seemed to have unlimited bullets. Each shot rang out like a loud warning to stay away. He wondered what signal they needed to know the coast was clear.
Why was he trying to hurt them like this? Bubba thought sadly. Did he want them gone? He did say that. But no way like this. Drayton was cruel but not so violent.
He didn't tell his brothers what Drayton had said to him before they came-
BANG
He squealed and dug his face in Bobby's chest. Why couldn't he protect his family like he used to? Bobby rocked his head while looking up at his twin, who was covering Bubba with his body as well.
That answer was obvious. Drayton was the only one he was afraid of.
"Boys!" Drayton called to the empty noise after his shotgun ran out. "Where the fuck are you?"
They held their breath, only releasing it after they heard his footsteps leading away from the room.
"It's okay, Bubba." Bobby began stroking his curly hair. "That gun ain't got that many bullets."
He whimpered softly, letting Bobby pet his head.
They didn't account for the quietness of the house, as Drayton had taken a new method, being as quiet as possible and letting their fear lead him.
Bubba kept whimpering into his brother's chest.
Nubbins held him tighter and tried to shush him.
Drayton walked quickly to the closet, hidden by the lack of light and the still quietness until now.
Their heads turned to the door quickly. Bubba stopped crying, wrapping his arms around his brother tighter. But it was too late, as Drayton had already heard their whimpers.
He flung the door open, the light peering into the dark closet. The first thing he saw was their feet, pushed into weird directions.
And when he opened the door more, he saw their crying faces. They immediately squealed, the twins pulling most of their bodies over Bubba, shielding him. Bubba stayed put, not caring when Nubbins' face wound bled into his shirt. Ripped from the bullet that penetrated the picture frame next to his head.
"Now...now don't you worry none, boys." He said with a nervous chuckle. "I ain't gon' hurt yer' younger brother!"
Nubbins and Bobby didn't trust him, not letting go of the grip they had on Bubba. Bubba opened his eyes slightly to look at his older brother.
The shadow behind him made him look almost like a saintly figure. He held the rifle in his arms loosely, peering down on them like the scared leeches they were.
He remembered what Drayton said the afternoon before, about being the favorite.
He guesses he did nothing wrong, just the twins. But the rifle didn't make him trust him.
"What about grandpa?" Bobby whispered, holding Bubba's hair tighter.
Drayton chuckled. "Grandpa's just fine, boy! Ain't needa worry 'bout 'im!"
Nubbins and Bobby didn't stop holding him. They looked at Drayton with the bravest face they could muster, despite being obviously filled with fear themselves.
"Why don't ya' let yer' brother go for a minute?"
They gasped in shock, pushing their younger brother closer to their bodies. Being able to smell the honeysuckle soap, as well as his sweat.
"Just let 'im go, a-a-and I'll put the gun down! And I won't drink!"
Drayton had drunk two shots of that hard whiskey during their hour long dinner. Which wasn't too much for anybody, but everybody knew how bad he got once a drop of alcohol reached his tongue.
The twins didn't want to cooperate still, staring down the gun and not moving a small bit.
"I-I know you boys love yer' brother." He said. "I won't hurt 'im, I promise."
They stared back at him. Drayton became impatient.
"He ma' brother too, y'know." He grumbled. "Y'all can start gettin' out that darn closet by letting 'im get out first."
The twins shared looks to each other, both not wanting to let Bubba go. But they knew Drayton might just start shooting again if they disobeyed one more time. He looked genuinely upset now.
Bobby looked at him and pet his hair, moving it away from his face to lock it behind his ear. Nubbins looked up at Bobby with a scared look, wondering if they were really gonna let their younger brother go.
Bobby begged him, not with words, but with his eyes.
They slowly removed their arms off Bubba, leaving him the final act of going outside.
He switched between looking at Bobby and at Drayton. Bobby looked at him with a "you'll be okay" look. While Drayton had a more violent one.
He hesitatingly got up, practically crawling out of the closet to the light.
Drayton smiled slightly looking at him leave the closet. The twins huddled together, deciding to protect themselves.
Bubba remained on the floor, peering out for his brothers behind Drayton's legs.
"Go wait by the stairs, Bubba." Drayton whispered. "Don't ya' move until I come, okay?"
The muzzle of the rifle pointed directly at his two brothers still on the ground. His angry face after his loud outrage. Bubba himself pushed away from that closet.
He scanned the walls for the bullet holes, finding multiple spawn across the walls. He couldn't see more, or an exact number, as his eyes blurred with hot tears.
The moment Drayton turned his head around, Bubba wailed loudly. They all looked at him, Drayton becoming even more upset. While the twins huddled closer.
Bubba stood up on his knees, holding onto the shirt of his older brother. His eye makeup running down his cheeks under his mask. He looked up at him and sobbed, pulling on his shirt like a cat begging for scraps.
Drayton backhanded him.
He slumped down. It was a hard slap.
"Stop it!" Nubbins screamed. No one liked when Bubba got hurt.
"Shut up."
Bubba looked up at him through his eyelashes. He tightened his grip on the gun and with the other hand, grabbed a fist full of his hair to lift his head up.
"Leave."
Bubba looked at his brothers. Bobby put a finger to his mouth, asking him to sush.
He listened to Bobby.
He slowly got up, his face aching from the hard slap. And his arm hurt from how hard he fell.
With his legs shaking and his nerves going through the roof, he walked off to the steps.
He just didn't want Drayton to hurt his brothers.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
He held his head, huddling himself into a ball. He leaned his body on the rails of the stairs, desperately covering his ears and sobbing into his knees.
Grandpa sat in eyesight by the kitchen, not injured at all. Bubba wondered what he was thinking at the moment, hearing the multiple shots that fired in the other room.
One shot, a scream.
Another shot, a cry.
Another shot, a screech of pain.
Bubba cried out in his grief, too scared to move. He didn't know what he was most scared of, the punishment or the sight of it.
He stopped shooting, the moans and cries of pain indicated they were still alive. Holding onto each other, they're blood mixing into a pile under them.
Bubba cried out for them again. Was Drayton gonna stop?
He heard the small whispers of one of them, maybe Nubbins. He couldn't make out what he was saying, but he sobbed into his arms as he listened, begging the god that Drayton praised when he was in a good mood to make him stop. As he knew he was too scared to do it himself.
Nubbins kept whispering, while Bobby whined in pain over his words.
He silently yelled at himself. His family was hurt, and he was not able to protect them. No matter how much he wants to, he can't seem to get up. He thinks about the muzzle of the gun, hugging his knees closer and glancing at grandpa.
Me, you and grandpa.
That's what Drayton said.
How could Drayton have been so serious? How could he have gone so far?
The room stayed silent after Nubbins stopped.
Another shot, Bobby cried out. Another shot, and Bobby stopped screaming.
Bubba stayed silent, before raising his head and beginning to cry up to the heavens above as the quietness set in.
The mask felt stuffy, he felt his heart beating quickly, and thought he could hear it.
He grabbed fistfuls of his hair and pulled hard, his legs and arms shaking violently. And he writhed in his sitting position, his knees hitting the rails of the stairs.
Bubba screamed.
He screamed and screamed until he saw Drayton pull into view.
With the rifle lazily held in his hand and the familiar bright blood all over his clothes and face.
He looked at Bubba, his face showing a slight tinge of guilt.
Then he bolted.
His legs finally forced him up now, the gun finally running out of bullets.
Finally.
Drayton screamed at him in anger once he ran past him, attempting to grab onto his clothes.
He slumped down on his stomach once he got into the room, and looked up.
As embraced as anybody could put it, almost beautiful in a way. Their faces showing nothing, bright blood decorating them like a work of art. Like a painted canvas with punched holes in it.
Bobby with one in his neck, Nubbins with his heart.
He wondered which one went out first. He could recognize their voices but never their screams. He had never heard them scream like that.
And he never will again.
He screamed again.
And again.
And again.
His loud sobs being heard in every corner of their home. But more Drayton, who stomped into the room immediately after he cried for them.
Drayton wasn't happy.
He heard his footsteps and turned his head, immediately backing into a ball and crying even louder.
He didn't have his rifle anymore, but the blood remained. Sawyer blood.
He screamed when Drayton stuck out his arms, reaching for him. He shifted himself towards the closet, hoping his dead brothers could still protect him.
But he was too slow, as his hair was grabbed on to. And he was roughly dragged back outside.
He tried to pull away, anything to stay with the people that brought him the most comfort, but Drayton was always stronger in a way.
He tried to speak as he was dragged away. To open his mouth, speak like a normal person.
Drayton.
Nubbins.
Bobby.
Brothers.
Please.
His cries came out like mumbled, incoherent sounds. He opened his sore mouth each time, but couldn't muster up anything. Anything to make Drayton leave.
He dug his fingers into the floorboards, his nails and his skin scratching. He kicked the door on his way out, and cried for the bloody ones in the closet again.
His very much alive brother yelled at him to shut up. He looked behind at the door as the room got farther and farther away, hoping for some movement other than the flickering lights.
Of course, nothing happened.
His vision was cut short after Drayton flunked him into the steps like a rag doll. He cried out in pain, his elbow and head hitting hard against the wood.
His body stayed glued to the staircases as he watched Drayton go up higher than him. Before he grabbed his hair again and hoisted him farther up.
Bubba held his head in pain, locks of hair falling into his shoulders after they had been forcibly pulled out.
Drayton rested his head on his knee, his blood covered pants staining his mask.
"No no no."
He let go of his hair and grabbed the sides of his head, forcing him to look up.
He let out a sob and closed his eyes tightly, too afraid to even look at him. Did he look at his brothers like that before he killed them. With anger and annoyance?
"What did I tell ya', Bubba?" He asked, low and sinister. "Huh? What did I tell ya'?"
Drayton had told him a lot of things.
"I'll let ya' become one with yer' stupid brothers if you don't fucking answer me."
The idea didn't sound bad, seeing his brothers was better than seeing Drayton. But Drayton had just come back from killing them, and was gonna make him one with them with the form of his life.
"Me and you. Stay here. Don't move."
Spilling everything Drayton had said at once didn't stop Drayton from being less angry.
"You stay here. And what did ya' do, Bubba?"
"Move."
"Why the fuck did ya' do that then?"
He cried out to him, not being able to even say the answer out loud. He looked up at him, begging for poor mercy so he could crawl back into the closet and be left alone with them.
"Why the FUCK huh?!"
He got backhanded again. But the pain wasn't so bad of an edition. As he never thought mental pain could hurt worse than a physical one.
"Brothers. Mine."
Drayton didn't scream, didn't hit him again. He sighed loudly, with a stronger twinge of almost guilt. He gently grabbed his head and rested it on his knee.
"Now, now don't you cry none." He then let out an awkward chuckle. "Sorry it had to go that way, but it's all alright. Yer' brothers died holdin' each other...ain't that sweet?! Sweetest thing the've done for this family."
Bubba sobbed in every type of grief he thought possible. He sobbed into his knee, begging and begging Drayton to stop.
It was no use, Drayton had already done everything he needed to do. WIth Bubba unable to do anything to fix anything. All he could do is slump down and beg for something that'll put him out of his misery.
"Maybe if ya' just stopped crying I can make you feel better, Bubba!" He yelled. But then realized it wasn't gonna work.
He pursed his lip unfavorably.
"Now...why don't we just stop crying for a minute, then yer' older brother could make you feel better."
He whimpered, but stopped crying. Feeling too tired to even move. And he began to wonder, since when was he so weak? He was the strongest Sawyer boy, his victims cowered in fear every time they saw him. And he could end them all with one drab of his chainsaw. Anybody but Drayton.
The house became quiet, all but Bubba's sad whimpers and Drayton ruffling his hair with his dirty hands.
"Yer' older brothers would have given me a hard time if that didn't happen!" He exclaimed happily. "Would have...gotten on ma' nerves. Made me hit 'em and then you, Bubba. Yer' brothers seemed to act up knowing they'll hurt you, ya' really think they cared, Bubba?"
Bubba broke down again. He held his body tightly, trying to replicate the warmth his brothers gave him in that closet, like an animal after being taken away from its mother. How could Drayton forget the closet? Did he forget how he had to scream at them to let him go? And how Nubbins yelled when he got backhanded?
But that just continued his crying. His brothers tried and tried and managed to protect him, but he couldn't return that favor.
He used to be the strongest Sawyer boy.
"Now, calm down." Drayton asked ever so nicely. "I'll let ya' eat some more chocolates after this, all ya' gotta do is calm down."
Drayton held his head tightly and pushed it to his chest, making it harder to breath for his younger brother, ending his crying. Drool and tears made a stain on Drayton's pants.
"Are ya' gonna stop now?"
Bubba didn't reply.
Drayton lifted his head back up and stared into his eyes. Which were being slightly covered from him bucking the mask up while he held his cheeks.
"Yer' my favorite brother, Bubba. And ma' only one. And that's good. That's more peaceful. The house has a ray of light shinin' through it now. Y'know, like a knight after winnin' a battle. That's a better way of thinkin' 'bout it, don't it, Bubba?"
Bubba closed his eyes, letting a tear fall and roll onto his cheek. Drayton sounded as evil as the cops that were always trying to catch his family. He never understood those cops, why would they hate a family that was trying to defend their house, or trying to feed themselves?
But Drayton had killed his family. Their brothers laid in a dirty closet with their blood spilling onto the floor with holes in their bodies.
"And with those idiots gone...we won't have to worry so much about those cops finding us." Drayton could read his mind. "Ya' see, Bubba. Me and you won't get the chair."
Drayton was very afraid of the chair.
"No person gonna cut yer' precious hair to fry ya'. No person is gonna separate us from each other. And grandpa. We're gonna stay together till the end of our days, okay? Then those cops could find us, but will never take us alive."
Bubba was trapped. Trapped between getting killed by the cops or living with his family's killer. Who was his oldest brother. He wondered who he had to live for, other than grandpa, who was in a state of being alive and dead. Nothing came to mind. And so he began to wonder how bad that chair really was.
When Drayton praised that god, he spoke about how their family will end up in hell anyway. Always with a chuckle to his voice. His brothers weren't alive, plunged into hell by Drayton. And he began to wonder what hell was like. He didn't know what it looked like, or what was in it. And why his family was destined for there. But if his brothers were there, it must not be so bad of a place. His brothers can protect him. And he'll sob apologies for not saving them from Drayton.
Drayton shushed him like he did when he was a child, gently rocking his body and sniffing his hair, which had no trace of his honeysuckle soap, but his brothers' blood.
"Now don't you hide yer' self from me."
He then dug his dirty hand to the back of his younger brother's head, wrapping his fingers around the ropes of his mask. His pretty lady mask. Bubba let out a sob, holding his fingers up to his face, but not doing anything to stop it.
He cringed once his last bit of safety was slowly taken from him, the cold, soulless air hitting his bare face.
His bare face was more pale, not being exposed to the Texan sun in so long. Drayton studied his features, a cleft lip, uneven eyes and pockmarked skin. His red eyes looked sore and twitched with pain. Drayton sighed, he really still was the sweet baby he always was.
"Now don't you cry none. Old grandpa never cried! Not even when the slaughterhouse cut us out like butcher waste. A-A-And now that nobody is gonna distract you...you can work on being more like grandpa."
Bubba pushed his head back on his knee, biting his lip hard so he would stop crying. Drayton dropped the mask onto the floor, making it fall one step down. Letting a shred of Bubba's humanity fall.
Bubba wished he could be anybody else at the moment. Or at least pretend. Wanted to put on a different mask so he could be mistaken for somebody else, and could cover up his never ending pain.
But he couldn't. Drayton wouldn't let him at the moment. So he settled for the next best thing, hiding his face in the only part of his family he had left, that was still fully alive and conscious.
"Yer' already a strong boy, Bubba. You ain't gotta worry 'bout a thing. You can just keep feeding us, and doing yer' chores. Now...now you have more chores, but it's a small price to pay for being the second best killer in all of Texas, behind grandpa. A-And I'll take care of you."
Drayton had always taken care of him, and it was always awful. Drayton was awful, but he was raised to believe Drayton "took no pleasure in killing."
To be fair, Drayton didn't take pleasure in the act of killing their brothers. The man thought it was necessary, that it was right, that it was the best step moving forward for the family.
"Hey...tomorrow I'll stay home with you." Drayton said calmly, a smile on his face. "I don't want you to be so lonely. I'll tell my window washer he's in charge today, a-a-and I'll buy you some chocolates. The nice ones, the ones you like."
Poor Bubba seemed like he'd never stop crying, so Drayton quit pushing him to stop. He rocked his head, it was like the past. Bubba being scared of him but having nobody else to seek comfort with.
Drayton thought about how rotten it was, seeking protection in your brothers' killer because there's no one else.
But the Sawyers had always done stuff they didn't want to do in order to get by. He didn't like killing, but he had to. To support his family and to save it.
As he looked down at his broken down, only brother, he thought about his dead ones. Even Nubbins had known how important Bubba was to the family. His last whispers were him begging him not to hurt his brother.
"Oh please don't hurt Bubba." Drayton mocked. "You need him, Drayton. You can't kill him."
He kept repeating those words for a while, using his last bits of strength to hold his twin close to him. If Nubbins was smart enough to put that together while he was being gunned down, then Bubba sure will soon.
He scratched his nails across his scalp, grabbing locks of his hair and running his fingers through it. Bubba silently cried in his knee, wondering what tomorrow would bring.