R Budd Dwyer Suicide Video Novels & Stories

“Adele please. I know… I know I don’t deserve anything from you. But… Ryan is going to kill me. Please save me. I’m sorry… I’m so sorry… Please call the cops…” My heart stopped. She sobbed hard. “Please help me. Please. I don’t… I don’t want to die. At least… let me see my children one more time. I’m begging…” The video cut off suddenly. I sat up straight in bed, waking Detroit in the process, because he was hugging my waist. “What is it?” I couldn’t speak. I replayed the video, then again, then again. Each time felt like knives slicing deeper into my mind.

“You will serve.” Jax snarled back, actual fear under the anger. I clicked away before I puked. I wasn’t doing this. Not again. I reached into my pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. My hands shook. I clicked the pen beside the keyboard. The words scrawled out quickly, shaky: I’m not dealing with the dead. Here’s your footage. Ryder I shoved the USB into the folder and sealed it with tape, slapped his name across it in thick marker.

“Since everyone’s here, why don’t I show you what this lovely mother and son actually did?” Then I hit play. It was the video I’d recorded on the rooftop that day. The footage was shaky, but the audio was crystal clear. “Take that worthless mutt and go die! “Die out there and spare your brother the waste of food! “Buy him some time! He’s your brother! “Take off that coat and give it to me!” The video kept looping on my phone screen. Linda’s twisted face. Tyler’s ugly sneer. And that final shove, without a shred of hesitation.

I squeezed my eyes shut, willing myself to breathe. The video kept going. People recorded her. Laughed. And then, after they had what they wanted— They pushed her away. Just like that. Like she was nothing. Ryder exhaled sharply, his hand clenching around his phone. And then—he deleted it. Wiped it from the group chat. Left the group entirely. Silence. My throat felt tight. “They…how did they even know to do her like this? Record it and share it… He nodded stiffly.

"Hey, B? You weren't letting Tabby watch this, were you?" "Hey, Jamie. You doing okay, man?" Baruti asked. "Is Tabby in the control room with you?" "Yeah, she's right here." Jamie muted the line and spat, "Fuck." The SWAT officers wore body cameras. Someone had undoubtedly caught that shot, televising it straight to the last person who needed to worry about him more. He tapped out a quick text. Normally he'd bust a guy's balls for doing something like this. But most guy's didn't have their girls in the field. They'd never had to see someone they cared about take a bullet to the chest.

He had been control by Cherry so what do I expect from him? "Should I show him the video?" Sofia shrugged at Ryan who later nodded his head. "I don't think so please" just keep the video with you and don't let him see it! They whisper at each other as he glared at them. "I've already seen the video and yes it's very so sad;" we are going to go on a mission this night!" I'm going to kill everyone in that institution and that include Ryder. I will be needing five of you to follow me! He uttered and glare at them. It was ten of them in numbers. They are only ten people Which they've seen so far and they believe that Their others members have been Killed.

Once I had the video ready, I turned the screen to them, pressed play, and sat back in my chair. When Rory showed me the video, my blood boiled with a burning fury to kill. Each scene of the video had my chest tightening and my heart pounding as I watched. At one point, I swore my body was on fire with the bubbling rage to rip the men’s heads from their bodies. The video showed Owen and another man, a few years his senior, leaving my pack with a child each on their shoulders. The video must have ended because Connor and Elliot drew back, their faces a mixture of emotions.

A live video uploaded five minutes ago. I tapped it and the video opened instantly to show a man who stood in front of a table inside a restaurant. Lucas Ryder. Even through the screen I felt my jaw tighten. He wore a dark suit. His hair was neat and his face looked calm. Too calm. Behind him I could see a few reporters holding phones. One of them spoke loudly. “Mr. Ryder, people want to know how Valenticia Dykstra is doing after the difficult weeks she has faced.” Lucas answered in a steady voice.