Page 72 of When Sinners Fear
This is my closure, just like it’s their closure.
The men look at each other and then drop their hold of Reed, letting him crumple on the floor before retaking their positions in the circle.
Gunshot fires, muffled and silenced, and I watch Reed’s calf explode, then thigh, then the shoulder free of the poker. There’s barely a shadow of interest on Abel’s face as he delivers the shots. Just focus, as if he’s playing with death for something to do.
Another shot fires, and I drift from the moment. Reed tortured us for pleasure. He wanted us to suffer and to hurt. He needed Knox to realise something, to see he wasn’t in control and couldn’t avoid the consequences of his actions. But while Knox was his intended target, he didn’t care that I also suffered for no reason other than simply knowing Knox Cortez. After piecing the words from Reed and Knox together, I’ve concluded that Naja was one of the women Knox’s family trafficked. It makes sense now – having the final piece of the puzzle makes it look a lot less unfathomable. Does that give Reed the right to hurt me? I did nothing to him or Naja, yet he justified my pain as a form of revenge and payback. And despite everything, I know Knox tried to shield me as much as possible and that he will have that regret on his conscience for the rest of his life. I wonder if his treatment of me would have been different if we’d developed a relationship before our kidnap?
As my mind whirrs through the explanations and rationalisations of what I’m witnessing, I feel a calmness settle in the air. The tension and pressure that had built when we first entered has gone.
Abel comes towards me. He offers me the gun he used to shoot him. This time, it’s resting in my palm before I register I’ve taken it. My feet pull me in closer, and I stand side by side with Knox. What’s left of Reed is covered in blood, mutilated and bleeding out on the floor. Pulling the trigger now will only put him out of his misery rather than decide if he lives or dies. A kindness, you could say.
But I don’t move – I can’t.
Knox steps behind me and cradles me against him, raising my arm and aiming the gun for me directly at Reed.
“You need this more than I want it,” he says quietly in my ear, only for me to hear. But before I can pull the trigger, Reed looks up at me and smiles, baring his bloodstained teeth, as if taunting me – us – further.
“Fucker!” Dante launches himself at Reed and slashes his face as if carving a pumpkin. His arm arcs over his face, drawing a giant C, before he swipes through from his forehead diagonally down to his jaw.
“Nice touch, brother.” They’re the first words I’ve heard from Shaw.
The blood runs down into Reed’s eyes, painting him as a horror movie character. My heart pounds in my chest, wanting to pull the trigger and see him lifeless and dead on the floor – the ultimate revenge, but I’m shaking, my hand unsteady.
“Stay with me, Peyton.” His words send me spiralling back to the cage, and my finger squeezes, releasing the sharp crack.
My eyes close, and I drop the gun a second later.
“Well shit, didn’t think she’d have it in her.”
“Fuck you, Dante. She had every right.”
“We all had a right, Knox. It’s done.”
My eyes are still closed, so I can’t tell who’s talking to whom. All I can feel is Knox, keeping me upright. I twist my head against his chest. Closure might have been a motive, but I’m not sure I want to face my actions. If I keep my eyes closed, I can remember Reed as the villain – the evil in the world. He has to stay as that figure in my mind, or I might crumble here and never get back up.
“Come on.” Knox pulls me away, leading me like he did when we first left our captivity – keeping me tethered to something real.
I don’t look back, but I hear a lighter’s flick and a roar of flames. The crackle of fire and the rancid smell of smoke accompanies our exit from the building. They’re burning what's left of the man who caused it all.
My mind is blank as I tread the same path we came through, but putting one foot in front of the other feels much heavier now. My eyes are blurry, and I keep my head down as we leave. The tremble in my hand seems to spread through my body until I bite my lip behind my teeth to stop me from crying – to stop me from screaming.
I don’t know how to feel – I don’t know how to reorganise my mind to right what I did. I pulled that trigger. Me. I remembered the pain and fear he inflicted and thought about not just me but everyone else who’s ever suffered like I did. And his face – he enjoyed the torture he inflicted.
Knox might have led me to that position, but Reed pushed me over the line, and now there’s no reasoning or equation that helps this make sense. It’s overwhelming, as if the world is rising up around me and turning everything dark. Things that were once right are wrong, and I can’t see a way out.
“Stop. Stop!” I pull away from Knox as we approach his car. His family are all coming out of the building now. They look joyful, lighter, as if their souls are no longer weighed down by the oppression Reed’s life created for them. Yet all I can feel is that weight.
How do they do it?
“You can come back to mine. We’ll leave tomorrow. Hotel tonight,” Knox says. Hotel?
“No.”
“Home?”
“No.”
“Then where? You don’t have anywhere else to go.”