A quick glance at her tells me she’s not going to look elsewhere while I torture Adrian.
Somehow, I knew she wouldn’t.
Adrian’s screams turn to whimpers, then to barely audible moans. He’s fading fast, going into shock.
I need to finish this before he passes out completely.
“Last chance,” I say, my voice eerily calm despite the violence I’ve just inflicted. “Give me the name, and I end this now.”
Adrian’s eyes focus on me one last time.
His lips move, forming words I can barely hear.
I lean closer, straining to catch them.
“Who?” I grab his face, forcing him to look at me. “Say the name!”
But Adrian’s eyes are rolling back, his breathing becoming shallow and rapid.
He’s dying, and he’s going to take the secret with him.
Rage explodes through me, white-hot and all-consuming. After everything, after all this pain and blood and suffering, I’m still no closer to the truth.
Still no closer to making everyone pay for what they did to Nicole.
My hands find Adrian’s throat, and I squeeze.
His eyes widen, some primal survival instinct kicking in even as his body fails.
He tries to fight, his hands weakly clawing at my wrists, but he’s too far gone.
“You should have talked,” I whisper, watching the life drain from his eyes.
Adrian’s struggles grow weaker.
His face turns purple, then blue.
His eyes bulge, blood vessels bursting in the whites.
And still I squeeze, pouring every ounce of my hatred and grief and rage into my hands.
Finally, his body goes limp.
His eyes stare at nothing, empty and dead.
I hold on for another minute, making sure.
Making absolutely certain that Adrian Morello will never hurt anyone I care about again.
Then I release him, and his body slumps to the floor like a discarded puppet.
I stand over him, my chest heaving, my hands covered in his blood.
The warehouse is silent except for my ragged breathing and the steady drip of water.
Somewhere in the distance, a siren wails.
Adrian Morello is dead.
