He knew.
He just wasn’t ready to let the bastard off that easy.
Enzo tipped his head at me. “Do it.”
I pointed at the rough circle in the dirt, extending ten feet each way to Lassiter, and both Enzo and Rio stepped back.
Lassiter was messing with my peace, sobbing and begging.
I needed quiet. Because this next part? This was mine.
The spiral I’d drawn in the dust wasn’t symbolic—it was the burn path. I’d spent hours setting it up: fuel line soaked into the dirt, measured accelerants, triggers wired to a single button hidden in my jacket.Once lit, the fire would trace that perfect spiral inward, closing until it reached the center. Until it reached him.
The entire warehouse would go as well, long after we’d gone, but the design meant the center—Lassiter—would burn the longest. The hottest. He would see it coming. He would feel it close. And by the time the heat kissed his skin, there’d be no escape.
This was the hell I had made.
And it was what he deserved.
I pressed the button.
The fire didn’t explode—it awakened. It sparked from six ignition points at once, racing toward each other in a perfect circle that closed in like a noose. And when the flames met, joining with a hiss and roar, the trap sealed. That was Lassiter gone. Caged in fire.
I didn’t linger for the screams. I didn’t need to. For me, the act was complete, and now, I wanted to watch the building burn. I stepped out into the cold air, Rio close at my back, the door open behind us.
We stood at a distance, watching the first licks of flame reach the wooden siding. It was slow at first, then greedy. The fire clawed its way upward, licking the walls, spreading wide. It swallowed thewarehouse like it had been waiting to devour it all along.
Enzo emerged next, smoke curling around his silhouette. He’d stayed just long enough. I’d warned him how long he had.
He stayed because he needed the certainty of a death that couldn’t be denied or covered up or erased.
For Robbie.
“She’s beautiful,” I murmured to my friends, as the roof groaned and buckled, the beams bowing, the structure beginning to fall in on itself.
Lassiter was long since ash.
But the fire was still dancing.
And all I could think was how much I wanted Killian here with me—to see this, to understand what it meant. I wanted to lace our fingers together and show him that this fire wasn’t just destruction. It was cleansing. It was justice. It was the same wild peace I felt when I was wrapped around him, when he looked at me like I mattered. Fire and Killian—they burned the same inside me.
But I didn’t want to stay here any longer. Not with the smell of smoke on my skin and ash curling around my boots. I wanted Killian. I needed to see him, touch him, know this was really done.
But first… Robbie.
We arrived back at Redcars, and Enzo was out of the truck before it had even stopped moving. He strode inside like a man possessed, and Rio and I were close behind.
Robbie stood in the middle of the garage, and it was obvious he’d been waiting. His arms were crossed over his chest, his eyes red, tears tracking down his face.
“Enzo?” he asked, voice shaking.
Enzo didn’t answer with words. He scooped Robbie up in his arms. “It’s done,” he whispered, holding him as if he’d never let go. All that was left now was pinning down Kessler and finding this Lyric guy; only then would Robbie have peace, but for tonight, this was enough.
I saw Killian then, lingering near the office doorway, his expression unreadable until he caught my eye. Then he smiled, just for me.
I crossed the space without hesitation, and he met me halfway, lifting me clean off my toes as if I weighed nothing at all.
“Hey, Pretty,” he murmured, pressing his lips to my temple. “Did it go okay?”
