My head is pounding so hard, the ringing in my ears making me feel dizzy. I can't feel anything, I can't think where I am or what I'm doing. Am I waking up in bed? This doesn't feel normal...

Slowly I become aware of a cold, harsh surface beneath my face, sharp talons digging into my cheeks. I think my fingers are splayed over it too and I try to wiggle them, scraping them along the gravelly surface. It's definitely not my bed.

I scrunch my eyes shut as hard as I can, the pain in my head dulling slightly. The feeling is slowly returning to my body, I'm lying on my back and can feel the harsh coldness underneath my torso and legs.

I crashed the car.

I crashed Brett's beloved car.

It takes all of my effort to peel my eyelids open, immediately faced with the dark evening sky. Moving my head, I gently try to maneuver myself up, placing my arms on the ground and rolling onto my side.

With a grunt I place my hand over my bump, feeling a tiny flicker from inside. I gasp slightly at the sensation despite the pain reverberating around my skull, my baby quickly shooting another leg into me. The first kick could not have come at a better time, letting me know they're still okay in there after I just threw them in harms way.

My elbow holding me up, I let my other hand slip from the bump as my eyes somewhat adjust to the darkness, focusing on the tarmac beneath me, the grass at the edge of the road, the trees lining the street.

Glancing towards the left I take in the outline of metal against the tree, the impact of the car hitting the tree clearly not huge, but enough to have knocked me out cold.

How did I get out here?

My eyesight is still blurred and I attempt to blink it away, trying to focus on the vehicle. A slight movement has me narrowing my eyes, the shadow of a figure moving from the other side of the car, the sound of sloshing liquid hitting my ears.

"Wha...?" I manage to mutter out, reaching up and furiously rubbing my eyes before a strong stench suddenly invades my nostrils and I suck in a large breath. Did I rupture the gas tank?

Looking down I concentrate on quickly pushing myself up into a sitting position, the resulting head rush almost causing me to pass out.

"Shit." I grunt. My eyes wander back up, a dark, orange hue appearing beside the human shaped silhouette before it's thrown towards the car, the dark evening instantly lighting up.

It's a fire.

"Who?" I call out, the fuzziness in my eyes slowly fading, flames licking over the hood of Brett's car as I scoot back, as far away as I can manage. I'm not silly, I've seen the movies - a car on fire is not a good thing!

The silhouette finally turns and I'm able to make out the tall, broad shape of a man as they begin advancing towards me. I watch wide eyed, unable to tear my eyes away, their face eventually being lit up by the dancing shadows created by fire.

"George?" I splutter.

"Savannah!" He smiles, lowering himself beside me.

"Have you called Brett?" I ask quickly, "Why did you set fire to the car?" I yell, glancing past him, "I know I crashed it, but it's probably fixable!" I say, panicked, "Brett will never forgive me!"

"It wasn't your fault you crashed it." George replies softly and I grimace, looking down at the ground. It's nice of him to say that, but I was the one driving it, I'm the person who lost control.

"I don't know what happened." I admit, biting my lip as a wave of frustration courses through me. I wasn't driving at an unsafe speed, I tried to brake... Is it because the car is so old?

"I immobilized it."

"What?" I retort, eyes widening as I look up at George, his eyes filling with an emotion that I can't decipher.

"I took control of the car remotely, turned everything off. I've had one on Brett's car for a very long time, just in case."

"What?" I exclaim, "Why would you do that?" I snap, looking back towards the ruined car as I attempt to get up, "And why are you destroying it?"

"Because Savannah," He snaps, grabbing hold of my shoulder and forcing me back down onto the hard ground.

"George!"

"It's the car that killed your parents."

"It's what?" I splutter, my eyes wide, unable to comprehend the seven words of pure bullshit that just erupted from his mouth.

No.

No no no! He's lying.

"Olivia was the one who hit them," George answers, "Come on Savannah, you know that it used to be her car!"

"No!" I exclaim, shaking my head as my heart begins to race. What is he even on about? This is ridiculous!

"I got the immobilizer and GPS tracker installed on it when I had it remodeled by Samuel Polantine after the accident." George shrugs, "Remember him? He was Georgia's Dad!" He smirks.

"You're lying!" I snap, "This is just another attempt to get me away from Brett!"

"Oh Savannah, you have no fucking idea!" He laughs, chills coursing through my body at the villainous sound.

"This is one twisted joke!" I snap, "I don't believe that Olivia killed anyone, nor do I believe that you had control over the damn car!" I scoff, scooting back, away from him.

Is that even something that's possible - remote immobilizing? The car is old, it gave up. End of story.

I shake my head at the arrogant idiot, "You came across this," I gesture towards the car, "and chose to use it to your own advantage to try and scare me away!" I snort, "I will never leave Brett!"

"You think I'm lying?"

"Yeah!" I retort, grazing my hand down over my jeans, finding my pockets empty, "Where's my phone?"

"This?" George asks and I look up, my smashed phone in his hands, mouth dropping open in disbelief. Is he for real? "Daisy Cutter."

"What?"

"That was the make of beer thrown out of the car window at the scene of your parents death." He replies bluntly, tossing my phone into the burning car.

"How do you..." I trail off, shaking my head as I scoot back. That means nothing! "You have money, you probably bribed the cops to let you see the report," I snap, looking down and dragging myself backwards, ignoring the sharp gravel digging into my hand, very aware of the ridiculously dangerous inferno that's close by.

"Stop right there." George orders, his voice so menacing that I look up at him, freezing at the sight of the gun that's aiming for me.

"W-what?" I stutter, panic finally overwhelming me, my breathing uneven as I stare into inevitable death, the reality of the situation catching up to me. My Father-in-Law really wants me dead.

"You still don't think I'm serious?" George smirks, not even bothering to walk closer now that he has a loaded barrel facing me, "Do you want a quick trip down memory lane?" He questions, an evil glint to his grin, made only worse by the backdrop of fire.

I quickly glance up the street. Surely someone will come down here soon, it's not like we live in the country, we're on the outskirts of the god damn city!

"It's okay Savannah, I made sure I put a 'Road Closed' sign at the end." George informs, my stomach dropping as any hope quickly diminishes, "We're safe to have a little chat before I kill you."

"Kill me?" I exclaim, eyes widening. I mean, it's kind of obvious, but still, I had hoped that Devil Winters was just having a momentary breakdown and that he'd recover any minute now. Apparently not.

"It's sad that it's come to this after all the effort I've put in to keep you two apart."

"What?"

"Do you remember the armed robbery at the diner?" George asks, grinning as I feel a lump grow in my throat, shivers rocketing through my body, from fear or the cold I don't know.

George knew about that? Of course I remember it, the absolute terror that I felt then was only half of what I feel now that I have a child inside of me.

"I provided a dealer with drugs and told him he had twenty four hours to repay me or I'd kill him." George continues, "I gave him the idea that Sunnyside Diner had a lot of dollar hidden away and then I gave Bert a two dollar ticket for the Ferris Wheel at the town fair. Easily got him out of the way with barely even a dollar spent." He smirks and I grimace. What is it with this prick thinking that money solves everything?

But then again I guess, so far, it's worked for him.

"Come on, a disgruntled drug dealer faced with death?" George laughs, "He was bound to shoot you."

"Oh my god!" I blurt, my hand rising to cover my mouth. I feel sick, nausea claiming every corner of my stomach, bile rising in my throat. This hatred George holds for me has gone back way before we even met and I had no idea.

"But my fucking son had to intervene."

"He saved me." I can't help but retort, George instantly taking a threatening step towards me. I'm still distracted by the flaming fire behind him, attempting to move myself further away as subtly as possible.

"He really has been the biggest obstacle whenever it came to you." George says disdainfully, "Although, there was one sure way to get rid of you after the diner shooting didn't happen."

"What?"

"I just needed to get you out of the picture." He shrugs, "You remember that Polantine helped me when the accident happened? Repaired the car, got rid of any traces that it was us." He explains and I shake my head in disbelief, tears springing to my eyes.

Have I really, after all these years, been eating dinner and laughing with my parents killers?

"For doing that I paid off all his debts and gave him a hefty sum to get his business back on track. At the time he was practically one day away from committing suicide." He continues, "Very easy to convince him to help us."

"This is ridiculous!" I scoff, my defiant side still adamant that he's lying. The Winters are a lot of things, but they are not murderers! I don't know what George is doing, maybe he's had one too many shots of fucking whiskey. He didn't kill my parents and Olivia definitely didn't... right?

"I obviously kept proof of Polantine's involvement." George continues with his story and as he glances back towards the fiery inferno I take the opportunity to scoot back, eyes wide as I watch his every move, "When the armed robbery didn't work I called in Georgia."

"Georgia?" The sound of her name makes me halt, him turning back to face me.

"She didn't know exactly what her Father had done. But she knew it was something big, something that would end his life."

"You blackmailed her..." I breathe out in realization, tears flooding my eyes and fall down my face. Tears for my parents death, tears for finally knowing what happened, tears for my old best friend who I lost because of this damn Devil in front of me.

"I did." He grins, "She spiked Brett's drink and took him up to the bedroom. It worked so much better than I thought it would. He was after all, a horny teenage boy."

"I'm going to be sick..." I blurt before rolling over and heaving up the contents of my stomach, the nauseous feeling not leaving, dry heaving taking over.

"Then you both ended up at the same damn college!" George says behind me and I shut my eyes in disbelief, tears still flowing. This man has run my whole life and I never even knew, attempting to control every aspect where Brett was involved.

"Oh my god, Haydon?" I blurt out, turning back to face him, hand immediately covering my mouth at the absolute heartbreak of the idea that Becky's brother was another pawn.

"Oh no!" George denies, shaking his head, "I didn't get my hands on that little rich boy." He confirms and I feel a slight wave of relief rush through me before I remember where I am, my hand coming back around to cover my stomach as I scoot back more, his gun still pointed towards me. "Your relationship was perfect. It was my damn son who messed it up."

"He didn't mess up anything!" I yell, George's eyes darkening at my words before he storms towards me. Eyes widening I attempt to move away as fast as I can, my body screaming in pain as he advances, raising his hand and slamming it down on my face. I fall down onto my back, head to the side, swimming with pain as blood fills my mouth.

"Shut up!" He snaps before stepping away. I wipe my hand across my mouth, smearing the blood down my top, "Story time is over," George grins, continuing to step backwards, "I'm done with you!"

"Please!" I beg as he raises the gun once more, aiming directly for me. I instantly cover my stomach as the tears fall down my cheeks, filled with sheer dismay at the thought that I can't save us.

I want to say sorry to my child. Sorry that I could never give them the life they deserved, the life that Brett would have made perfect.

I'm sorry to Brett for having this monster as a Father but never knowing. I'm sorry that he has to deal with the loss of not just me, but also his child.

I'm sorry that Elle will never find justice for our parents, that she will never know what happened to any of us.

I'm sorry that Danny won't get a cousin, that Becky will lose her best friend, that Georgia will always have that blackmail hanging over her.

Glancing back at the gun once more I attempt to catch my breath, arms wrapping around my stomach as much as they can as I see his finger tighten on the trigger.

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