Page 104 of The Devil


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“I was young and stupid,” he sobs.

Santiago shoves a piece of wood between John’s teeth and says, “Bite down.”

I press the button and let the flame lick at the sole of John’s left foot. His scream is muffled by the wood, and for the next two hours, I take my time, burning patches of his flesh so he doesn’t go into shock, but enough to cause him a world of pain.

When John’s nothing but a pile of sobbing shit, Santiago grabs the gasoline and begins to pour it over John.

“You deserve worse than this, John,” I say as I light a match. “But Jenna is at home, and I hate being away from her.”

I wait for Santiago to step back before I throw the lit match on John, and the next instant flames erupt over his body.

John’s screams are pure agony, and they last longer than I expected from a coward like him.

I watch as he keeps burning until I’m finally satisfied.

When I turn around and walk to the side door, I order the guards, “Burn down the entire factory, then come to the lakehouse. We’re leaving this godforsaken place.”

Chapter 29

JENNA

Sitting in the private plane beside Enzo as we touch down in Lisbon, I can’t control my excitement.

As soon as Enzo told me we were leaving the US, I called my mom and Aunt Sherrie to let them know I’d met a man and he’d swept me off my feet. They insisted on FaceTiming with us, and they fell in love with him as fast as I did.

Enzo promised them that we’d see each other in a couple of months, as soon as he has everything under control at work.

We said goodbye to Santiago at the airfield in Minneapolis. Well, Enzo said goodbye. I waved and managed to give Santiago a quick hug before Enzo pulled me away from him.

Only when we were in the air did Enzo break the news to me that JJ, Wayne, Kirk, and Derek are dead. I felt instant relief, and I refuse to be sorry about it.

I will never have to see them again, and it’s given me a sense of peace.

“Are you sure we won’t have problems with my fake passport?” I ask for the fourth time.

“I promise,meu amor. There’s a border control officer on my payroll. That’s how I get shipments in and out of the country. You have nothing to worry about,” Enzo patiently explains for the umpteenth time.

As soon as the aircraft comes to a stop, Enzo unclips his seat belt before taking off mine as well. He climbs to his feet, and grabbing hold of my hand, he helps me up.

We link our fingers, and while we disembark, Enzo says, “I want your mother’s and aunt’s bank details.”

My head snaps up, and I look at him. “Why?”

“So I can start looking after them as well.”

When we reach the bottom of the stairs, I tug on his hand to pull him to a stop. “You’re going to look after them?”

“Of course. They’re your family. I don’t want you worrying about them at all.”

Oh my gosh!

I yank my hand from his, and jumping so I can reach him, I throw my arms around his neck. “Thank you!”

Enzo wraps one arm around my back, then I’m lifted off my feet, and he continues to walk with me toward the hangar where the border control officer is waiting.

The process goes much quicker than I expected, and when we walk to where an SUV stands, I let out a chuckle. “I’m in Portugal! I have my first stamp on my passport.”

Enzo chuckles, his eyes soft as he watches me doing a silly twirl with my arms open wide. My summer dress flies around my legs, and some of my hair slaps me in the face.