Billy slipped one of the pistols back into its holster and walked over. Putting his booted foot on the man's side, he gave a hard shove with it, rolling the man off. With his still armed hand, he pointed the pistol at the husband's head, still holding him down on the ground with a foot. He put his index finger on the trigger, ready to pull it. "Usually I give 'em a last request before I put a bullet in their brain. But I ain't grantin' you that opportunity, you sick bastard." Without further words or struggle, Billy squeezed the trigger, silencing the man's struggled breathing with a loud bang.