Three girls, around the same age as Kitlyn, stood in the hallway, trembling.
One of them held the others close, shielding their eyes.
Fuck!
I motioned gently for them to stay back.
“It’s okay. You’re safe now. No one’s gonna hurt you.”
I glanced at Jacob, who immediately stepped over to them.
He opened one of the side rooms and ushered them in.
“Wait in here. Close the door. We’ll come get you in a few minutes. You may want to block your ears.”
They obeyed without a word.
As soon as that door clicked shut, I turned back to the writhing man bleeding on the kitchen floor.
No more questions.
No more mercy.
I drew my Ka-Bar and knelt beside him. “This is for every girl you locked in this house. For every scream you ignored. For every bruise, tear, and chain you used.”
I didn’t wait for a plea.
Digging the knife in deep, I slit his throat from ear to ear, watching his eyes go wide and lifeless as blood spilled onto the moldy ceramic tile. He didn't even have time to scream. Then I moved to the first guy, the one Jacob had pistol-whipped, and drove my boot into his face, crackingbones, which pleased my ears. He whimpered, barely conscious.
I looked at my partner.
"Finish him. No one is giving anything up. I have a feeling none of these men know where to locate Hector."
Jacob ended him with a bullet to the chest.
Fucking blood went everywhere.
The kitchen was coated in red. Blood splatter, partial organs, and tendons covered the tile, us, and the walls.
It looked like a slaughterhouse in this dump.
We hauled the bodies into the bathroom and closed the door. We wiped up as much as possible to shield the girls from the horror, and removed our aprons, throwing them in the trash.
Once they see it, they can't unsee it. I didn't want that shit lingering in their heads. They'd already been through enough trauma. When we were finished, we went back to get them.
They were huddled together in the middle of the room on a filthy mattress, eyes wide with terror. But they were alive. Not a scratch on them.
I nodded toward the door.
“Let’s get you out of here,” I said, my voice soft.
One of them looked up at me with tears in her eyes. “Are you—cops?”
“No,” I said, smiling.
“Just think of us as your guardian angels for today.”
The girls were definitely from America.
