Panicked fingers point towards the vents that are now pumping out the noxious yellow gas. Many rush towards the doors, only to howl and wail as they refuse to budge. Fists pound uselessly against the unmovable doors, cries of fear and pain unheard, unnoticed.
Just like the cries of their victims.
Many are coughing, their eyes red and streaming. Boils break out on others as screams tear through the room. Men fall to their knees and collapse to the floor, the sickly gas running over them like a lover’s fingers. Some appear to be having seizures, while others struggle for breath as their lungs fill with liquid.
Eric and Nate made sure that the level of toxicity was high enough to kill quickly but still drawn out long enough to ensure their suffering. And by the looks of it, their suffering is immense. As it should be.
It’s heart-breaking to think of all those girls, all those children—taken from their homes, stolen from their families, forced into situations no child should ever be. Tessa and I can’t tear our eyes away from the screens, enjoying every gasp for air, every boil that forms, every body that lies still.
Fifteen minutes is all it takes, and then it’s over. We’ve done it—destroyed the ring and the evil behind it. Tessa jumps up with a whoop and pulls me up beside her, throwing her arms around my neck as she jumps up and down with joy. Wayne chuckles at our antics, then starts dismantling the monitors.
We load everything into one of the vans, then run towards the warehouse. I know Trey is safe, but I want to see it with my own eyes. Tessa is of the same mind, and as we tear into the parking lot, they see us and hold their arms out. Trey swoops me up, kissing me fiercely as he swings me around laughing.
Dutch pulls her mask off, a huge grin splitting her face. “Eric, have you turned the extractor fans on? I want to see with my own two eyes that my bastard of a father is dead.
Tessa nods. “And I want to tag the wall.” Pulling a can of red spray paint out of the bag she had collected from the van; she waves it around with a matching grin.
Eric laughs. “Yes, I turned them on. Zip your suits back up and put your masks and gloves on, it’s not safe yet to go in without them.”
We do as he says and then enter the warehouse, waiting while Trey unchains the doors. Luckily, they open outward rather than inward, as bodies spill out that were piled up alongside them. My lips tick up into a smile, taking in the fear in their distorted features. Trey just kicks them aside, sweeping his arm out in anafter yougesture.
Tessa heads over the wall behind the rectangular table, while Dutch uses her boots to turn the dead over, looking for her father.
I watch as Tessa spray paints what looks like a scarlet kiss mark on the wall, complete with “blood” dripping down from them. She backs away, eyeing it, before pressing two fingers to her mask, then holding them out towards the graffiti.
“And then they’ll all die,” I hear her say, and a small shiver goes through me at the words. I don’t know the significance of the ritual, but it is obviously meaningful to her.
Eric checks the time on his watch, and calls out, “Okay everyone, let’s clear out! I want to get out of here pronto.”
Dutch storms past me angrily, and we all follow her out. Once we’re well cleared from the warehouse, she rips her mask off, tossing it onto the ground with a screech. Her shoulders are tense, eyes narrowed as she looks at each of us. Forming a semi-circle around her, we exchange curious glances, wondering what her problem is.
“What’s wrong?” Kian asks, stepping towards her reluctantly.
“He’s not there!” she screams back, hands fisting in her hair as she spins around as if lost. “That fucking fucker wasn’t in the warehouse. I checked every single one.”
We all freeze at the words. Fuck. This was supposed to be over.
“Are you sure you didn’t overlook him?” Nate asks, and Dutch turns on him with a scowl.
“Yes, I’m fucking sure. I know what my father looks like, Nate. Fuck!” Turning, she punches one of the vans that had moved up behind her while she was talking, then hops around, shaking it out. Kian grabs it, looking it over for damage as Jase whispers in her ear, calming her.
I will right wrongs when I see them.
Stepping forward, I speak up. “We’ll help you. Trey and I will have your back, help you destroy him and the kingdom he’s built.”
Dutch goes quiet, then nods at me, respect and relief shining in her eyes. A tremulous smile grows until it transforms her face from anger to delight as each and every person standing here steps forward, vowing the same.
Vincenzo Gianelli’s time is running out.
And I can’t wait to help exact my retribution upon him.
Bless me, Father, for I will sin.
Epilogue 1
Trey
Two Years Later
