He blinked once before approaching the sobbing man and kneeling beside him, careful to avoid the piss and blood from the other body beside him. He flicked open a blade from his back pocket and grabbed one of the man’s fingers. They were already blotchy and purple from him failing to remove himself from the ropes wrapped around his wrist. It didn’t take much effort for José to dig the knife into the knuckle and begin sawing through the bone.
I gagged at the blood spraying out of the wound, the exposed bone protruding grotesquely from the mass of blood. My ears were ringing at the pitch of the man’s screams. But even those were muffled by some sort of gag beneath the head covering.
José finally dropped the digit into the piss puddle. I bent over, wholly supported by Carlos’s arms around my waist as I dry heaved over the floor.
“You can end this, Shiloh. It’s up to you how long this man has to suffer. Listen.” He paused, the screams making my whole body tense. “He’s begging you to end this.”
I sat up straight, allowing Carlos to aim my hands for me once more.
I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.
My finger pressed the trigger, and I jolted at the reverb. I watched the man go limp against the concrete. My eyes burned with tears. I knew it was only minutes before my sight was fully obstructed.
I let Carlos take the gun from my shaking hands.
I was hot and sweaty, yet cold and shivering at the same time. I could feel my body shutting down.
“Remove their face coverings,” Carlos commanded.
I slammed my eyes shut.
“Dad?” Adrian said through a wheeze.
Oh God! Oh God!
I slowly peeled my own eyes open to find the lifeless brown orbs of Peter staring up at the ceiling. I flicked my gaze to the left to find Marcus in the same state.
Dead.
I’d killed Peter and Adrian had killed Marcus.
My knees gave out, and I began vomiting again, the stench of their bodily fluids making me nearly pass out.
“How does justice feel, Shiloh?” Carlos rasped behind me. “They can’t touch you now, can they?”
I shuddered, the tears falling uncontrolled as Carlos pulled me upright. The room became a blur as he guided me towards the door. My chest constricted and I struggled to get air into my lungs.
I’m a murderer. I’m a murderer. I’m a murderer. I’m a murderer. I’m a murderer.
My body flinched against the contact on my shoulder, and I realized I was kneeling on my hands and knees. A whine left my throat, raw and grating, as I tried to keep the sobs from escaping.
I’m a murderer.
I gagged, nothing but bile rising up my throat.
Adrian was saying something but there was a whooshing in my ears blocking it out. I staggered to my feet fighting back thetears with every last ounce of willpower left in me and Adrian reached to steady me.
I didn’t hesitate this time. I swung with all the power possible in my legs and hips, slugging him square across the jaw so hard it sent blood spraying on impact.
I stepped back, chest heaving with effort as I watched Adrian slowly straighten, wiping the blood from his mouth. His eyes met mine with a look that said I had made a mistake.
“I wonder what Carlos would think if he knew you were sleeping with the son of a law enforcement officer that’s not in his pocket.”
My stomach dropped. “No.”
Not in his pocket. Not in his pocket. Oh my God. I’d involved him in something awful.
“I wonder what he might do to make sure that you hadn’t spilled any secrets or told any lies. Or if he felt you had betrayed the family and squealed like your brother.”
