Ryder returned to the table, selecting a third knife, a thin, flexible fillet knife with a wicked point. He twirled it between his fingers as he approached David again.
"I don't give a fuck about your family drama, or about the girlfriend beating piece of shit," he said. "I care about Cade. So I'm going to ask you one more time, and then I'm going to start removing parts of you. Where. Is. She?" For the first time, genuine fear flashed in David's eyes. He looked at the knife, then at Ryder's face, and seemed to finally understand the depth of his predicament.
"You can't," he whispered. "You can't do this."
"I can," Ryder replied, his voice eerily calm. "And I will. Starting with your fingers. One by one." He grabbed David's hand, stretching it flat against the arm of the chair, positioning the knife against his pinky finger. "Last chance."
"Wait!" David screamed, tears streaming down his face now. "Wait, please! I can't tell you! She'll kill me!"
"She?" Logan stepped forward, suddenly alert. "Who is 'she'?"
"I can't," David sobbed. "I can't. She'll find out. She always finds out."
"She can't hurt you if you're already dead," Ryder said reasonably, pressing the knife harder against David's finger. "Which is exactly what will happen if you don't start talking. Now."
"Damien!" David blurted out, his voice breaking. "It was Damien! He recruited me! He's the one with the plan!" I felt as if I'd been punched in the stomach.
"Damien?" David nodded frantically.
"Yes! Him! He approached me last year. Said we were ready to move. All I had to do was help him with a few things."
"Like terrorising and abducting a Regent’s Consort?" Logan's voice was deadly quiet.
"I didn't know he was going to take her!" David insisted. "I just helped with the notes, with setting up the Halloween thing. I thought we were just scaring her, making her leave Regents!"
"Bullshit," Ryder growled. "You knew exactly what was happening."
"I swear I didn't!" David was crying openly now, his earlier arrogance completely gone. "Damien handled all the details. I just did what he told me to."
"Where is this Damien now?" Bruce demanded, stepping closer. "Where would he take Cade?"
"I don't know! Maybe his father's house? That's where he said he was going to hide out until things cooled down!"
Lynch pulled out his phone, stepping away to make a call. I heard him murmuring to Killingham, who was still with the Marshall parents in the living room. Moments later, the dining room door burst open, and Mr Marshall stormed in, followed closely by Killingham.
"What the hell is going on in here?" Mr Marshall demanded, then stopped short at the sight of his son, bleeding and sobbing in the chair. "David! My God, what have they done to you?" His horrified gaze swept over the room, taking in the knives, the blood, all of us standing there watching his son bleed. "This is assault! This is torture! I'll have every one of you arrested!"
"Your son has been implicated in the abduction and possible murder of a Trivium Consort, Cadence Turner," Killingham said coldly. "He will be taken into Trivium custody immediately for further questioning. And then he will spend the rest of his days in the Hole."
"No!" David screamed, struggling against his bonds. "Not the Hole! You can't send me there! I'm protected! I'm a Regent!"
"Not anymore," Killingham replied, gesturing to two Trivium enforcers who had entered behind him. "Take him."
"Wait!" David shrieked as they moved to untie him. "Wait! The little bitch is probably dead anyway! Damien said he was going to have all sorts of fun with that piece of trash whore! I'm glad I got a go at ruining her before-" I didn't consciously decide to draw my gun. One moment, it was tucked in my waistband; the next, it was in my hand, aimed at David's head. I barely registered the shocked expressions around me, the shouts of alarm. All I could hear was the blood rushing in my ears, all I could see was David's sneering face as he admitted to raping Cade.
The gunshot was deafening in the enclosed space. David's head snapped back, a spray of blood and matter decorating the wall behind him. His body slumped forward, held upright only by the zip ties binding his wrists to the chair. Screams erupted from somewhere, Mrs Marshall, the sisters, I couldn't tell. Mr Marshall staggered back, his face a mask of shock and horror. But I felt nothing. No remorse, no fear, no satisfaction. Just a strange, floating numbness as I lowered the gun to my side.
"Jesus Christ," Logan muttered, but there was no real condemnation in his voice. Ryder looked at me with something like respect, while Bruce merely nodded once, as if I'd fulfilled some expectation.
Killingham was the first to recover, barking orders to the Trivium enforcers.
"Secure the family. Full cleanup protocol. No one leaves this house." The room erupted into controlled chaos as the enforcers moved to comply. Mrs. Marshall was screaming somewhere in the house, and the sisters were crying. Mr Marshall was being physically restrained, shouting threats and promises of retribution. But it all seemed distant, happening to someone else, somewhere else. I sank into a chair, the gun still in my hand, staring at David's lifeless body. I had killed a man. Shothim point-blank in the head. And I felt nothing. No guilt. No remorse. Just a cold, empty space where those emotions should have been. It wasn’t the first time I had killed someone, not by a long shot. But this one was different; this one was personal.
"Cole." Logan's voice came from far away. "Cole, give me the gun." I looked down at my hand as if seeing it for the first time. The weight of the pistol felt strange now, almost foreign. I handed it over without protest.
"Are you okay?" Logan asked, his voice low.
"I'm fine," I replied, and was surprised to find it was true. I was fine. Better than fine. The bastard who had hurt Cade, who had admitted to raping her, was dead. By my hand. It felt right.
