"You were savingyourself." He spits the words. "But nobody saved my son, did they?"
"Your son committed a grave mistake. He killed an innocent woman."
"He killed someone, yes. But you did too. Yet, you got the Brotherhood's protection when he didn't. Daniel was sacrificed. You made the decision to sacrifice him."
"So this was revenge," I say. "Telling Poppy about Dwayne. Showing her those journal pages. You wanted to take something from me the way I took something from you."
"I wanted you to feel it." Zach's mouth twists. "Helpless. Exposed. Watching someone you—" He stops, recalibrates. "Watching someone who matters to you look at you and see a monster."
"She already knew I was a monster."
"But she didn't know you killed her father. That's different, isn't it? That makes itpersonal." He shakes his head. "I saw her face, Gabriel. When I showed her Dwayne's journal, when she realized what he was and what you did—she looked at me like I'd set her world on fire. And I thought: good. Now Gabriel will know how it feels to watch everything burn."
I crouch down, bringing myself to his eye level. We're not so different, he and I. The same system created us both.
But he made a fatal error. He touched what's mine.
"Did it work?" I ask quietly. "Do you feel better?"
Zach holds my gaze. For a moment, something flickers there—doubt, maybe. Or the first stirrings of regret.
"No," he admits. "It didn't change anything. She went back to you anyway, didn't she? They always go back."
"She hasn't come back. Not yet."
"She will. Women like her, they can't resist the darkness. They tell themselves they can fix us, save us, love the evil out of us. And by the time they realize they can't, it's too late. They're already ours."
"Stand up," I say.
Zach's face goes pale. "Gabriel—"
"Stand up."
He struggles to his feet, hands still bound behind his back. He's trembling now, the bravado finally cracking. He knows what's coming. He's always known, from the moment James put him in the car.
"It won't bring her back," he says quickly. "Killing me won't undo what she learned. She knows who you are now—what you did. That doesn't go away just because I'm dead."
"No. It doesn't."
"Then why? What's the point?"
I step closer, close enough to see my reflection in his terrified eyes. "The point is that you threatened what's mine. You tried to take her from me. You used her pain as a weapon againstus both." I let him see the truth in my face—the cold, absolute certainty. "I would kill a hundred men for less. I would burn the world for her. You were dead the moment you showed her that journal. Everything since then has just been borrowed time."
"Gabriel, please—"
"Did you know that Dwayne begged? He cried and pleaded and promised he'd change. He said he was sorry, that he'd never meant to hurt me, that he loved me." The memory surfaces, vivid and visceral—sixteen years old, standing over the man who'd stolen my innocence, watching him grovel. "I didn't care then. I don't care now. Some acts are beyond forgiveness. Some debts can only be paid in blood."
I nod to James, who steps forward with the knife. Simple, efficient, sharp. The same blade I used before, kept all these years as a reminder of what I'm capable of.
Zach starts to cry—ugly, heaving sobs that shake his entire body. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have—please, Gabriel, please—"
"Look at me."
He does, tears streaming down his face.
"You were right about one thing," I tell him. "This is personal."
The knife finds its home.
