"You didn't care." Another cut. "That's worse."
I work methodically, each slice accompanied by words. By names. By reasons.
"This is for every girl you've ever touched." Cut. "Every woman you've trafficked." Cut. "Every life you've destroyed." Cut.
"This is for Vanna's mother." Cut. "She died in a trap house just like this one, did you know that? OD'd on the shit you sold her. On the poison you pump into this town."
Cut.
"This is for Rick." Cut. "He's rotting in prison because of you. Because you used him, the way you use everyone."
Cut.
"This is for every family you've torn apart." Cut. "Every kid who lost a parent." Cut. "Every parent who buried a child." Cut.
Virgil has stopped screaming.
He's just hanging there now, whimpering, his body a canvas of red lines.
Blood pools on the floor beneath him, spreading outward, soaking into the already-stained wood.
His eyes are glazed, shock setting in, but he's still conscious. Still aware.
Good, I need him aware for this last part.
I drop the knife.
It clatters against the floorboards, and the sound seems very loud in the sudden silence.
The cabin smells like copper and fear and something else, something primal.
The smell of death, coming to collect its due.
Virgil's eyes find mine.
Hope flickers there—hope that maybe the worst is over, maybe I'm done, maybe he'll somehow survive this.
He won't.
I grab him by the throat with my bare hands and lift him off the ground.
He's lighter than he should be, blood loss draining him, shock shutting down his body.
His feet kick weakly, finding no purchase.
"And this," I say, leaning in close so he can see my eyes, so he can see exactly who's ending him, "is for thinking you could take what's mine."
I don't use the knife. I don't use the gun.
I use my hands.
The same hands that cradled Vanna when I carried her out of that trap house five years ago.
The same hands that held her hair back while she detoxed, while she screamed and cried and begged me to let her go, to let her use, to let her die.
The same hands that shook when I dropped her off at rehab in the Poconos, terrified I'd never see her again.
Terrified she'd give up.
