The Diver Who Faked His Death Chapter 2

The sheer weight of their collective hatred broke something inside me. Without another word, I turned and ran.

I don't remember the walk back to my rundown apartment. I just remember the slurs shouted from car windows and the pounding of my own heart.

Before I could even catch my breath, my phone started vibrating violently on the kitchen counter. Notifications flooded the screen. Local news alerts. Viral TikTok tags.

#KillerBrotherLetsSiblingDrown

#PierceFamilyTragedy: Adopted Son Fights for Life, Biological Son Refuses to Help

#CEOYvonnePierce Offers Millions to Save the Man She Loves

I tapped a notification and found myself staring at a livestream. It was Yvonne’s account.

On screen, my mother was weeping, her face pale and tragic. "I am so sorry... I'm sorry to take up public resources," she trembled into the camera. "But as a mother, I am out of options. We failed in raising our eldest son. Eight years ago, that animal killed a man for gold. I thought prison would rehabilitate him, but... he is rotten to his core. His brother is dying underwater right now, and Carter just ran away."

My father stepped into the frame, wrapping a supportive arm around her shaking shoulders. He bowed deeply to the camera. "We are begging the public for help. If anyone can locate my son, Carter Pierce, we are offering a one-million-dollar bounty."

The live chat was a waterfall of digital venom.

Doxx him! Someone find this psycho!

I know where he works! He lives in the slums by the old rail yard!

Any Seattle boys in the chat? Let's go pay him a visit!

Grab your bats. This guy needs to learn a lesson.

Less than five minutes later, the violent pounding began.

Before I could even reach the deadbolt, the cheap wooden door was kicked off its hinges. My landlord stormed in, flanked by a dozen strangers. Phone flashlights blinded me. Cameras were shoved into my face.

"Thought you could hide, didn't you, killer?" the landlord spat.

The mob rushed the room, smashing my plates, kicking over my chairs. I tried to push my way to the door, but two massive guys grabbed me, slamming my face down onto the cheap linoleum.

"Stay down!" one of them barked. "Apologize to the stream! Tell them you're a piece of shit who doesn't deserve to live!"

Humiliation crashed over me like a tidal wave. They grabbed me by the hair, forcing my face toward the glowing lenses. I couldn't move.

Then, the crowd suddenly parted.

My parents stood in the doorway. For a fleeting, pathetic second, the little boy inside me thought they had come to stop the violence.

Instead, my father’s face was an emotionless mask. He reached behind his back and handed the closest vigilante a thick coil of heavy marine rope.

He pointed at me, his jaw clenched tight. "Tie him up. If he won't walk to the boat, we will drag him."

I yanked my head up, my voice tearing from my throat in pure disbelief. "Dad?! Do you even hear yourself? I told you I can't go down there! It will kill me!"

I looked at my mother. "Mom... doesn't my life mean anything to you? You’re going to murder your own flesh and blood for an adopted son?"

Helen’s eyes flickered with a microsecond of guilt before her face hardened into absolute conviction. "Shut your mouth! Porter might not share our blood, but his soul is a thousand times purer than yours! While you were eating off the taxpayer's dime in a cell, Porter was taking care of us. He was the one holding this family together! Now he’s dying, and you won't even lift a finger? Where is your conscience?!"

My heart had been calloused by years of abuse, but in that moment, it shattered all over again.

Blood meant nothing. I was just a stain on their perfect lives. Expendable.

"I won't go," I thrashed against the men holding me down. "I never killed anyone! You never even looked at the evidence! Why didn't you ever believe me?!"

No one listens to a convicted murderer.

Just as my strength started to give out, Yvonne stepped into the apartment. She looked immaculate, save for the heavy, black high-voltage stun gun gripped tight in her right hand.

"Don't make me do this, Carter," she whispered, her eyes dark. "I will do whatever it takes to save Porter."

She didn't hesitate. She drove the prongs directly into my spine and pulled the trigger.

Electricity ripped through my nervous system. Everything seized, and the world went pitch black.