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Hours later, after I'd managed to settle down and appreciate the Sons for their help, Knox came for me where I sat with Sloane, recounting word for word everything Derek said to me. Her eyes looked haunted, bloodshot, like she was ready to kill someone.

“Come on,” Knox said, taking my hand and leading me down a flight of stairs to the playground—a place where animals like Derek were kept.

He was tied to a chair, shirt stripped, hair shaven. He’d been doused with water, and the room was cold, which left him shivering. He looked nothing like the man he'd been hours ago when he'd been making threats. When his eyes flipped open and landed on me, his eyes widened.

A wicked smile curled my lips as I took off the towel Knox had wrapped my shoulders with earlier. I handed it to him without taking my eyes off Derek.

He flinched when I touched him. Something hot and satisfying flooded my veins, a sparkle of devilish intent igniting my fire.

“Anything you want to do to him, baby,” Knox said from behind me. “He's yours.”

“Yeah?” I inquired without looking back.

“Yeah.”

Fueled by that, I stepped toward Derek and struck him across the face. Hard. A yelp escaped his lips, anger flaring behind his eyes. It excited me. More than I thought it would. After all, I wasn't the one tied to a chair now.

“You felt that?” I whispered, gripping his jaw hard to see the result of my palm. I traced the lines, my other fingers digging into his jaw enough to draw blood. “Good. I'm just getting started.”

Then I struck him again. And again. Six times. I struck him hard enough for him to scream continually, for the sound of him begging to be relieved to fill the room. Until his cheeks were bright red, tears running down his face, his lips split open.

I struck him for every time he'd made me feel unwell. I struck him for every time I flinched in his presence. Every time he raped me. I struck him until my hands hurt. Until I was screaming, rejuvenated. That was when I took a step back, panting, my hand swollen—hurting.

“You'll never hurt me again,” I said. “Look at me!” He whimpered, eyes blinded with tears. “You'll never hurt me again.”

“It's okay, baby,” Knox said, pulling me into him from behind. My lips wobbled as I turned around and hugged him, thankful, overwhelmed by this man. This man who'd given me this gift. Who'd taught me how to live again. Love again.

“I fucking love you,” I muttered into his neck, loud enough for everybody in the room to hear.

Knox stiffened under my touch. His hands tightened around me, holding me closer. “I love you too, Wren.”

I pulled back, smiling. Sloane looked between us for a second, shook her head before holding out something to me. It took me a second to register what was in her hand—a gun.

“Do it,” she said, nudging her head toward a half-dead Derek. “Men like him don't deserve to live.”

I took the pistol without a second thought. I didn't know much about guns, I didn't know much about any weapons, but from the look in Sloane’s eyes, I knew the gun was loaded.

Knox reached into his pocket and took out his own pistol, showing me how to aim and pull the trigger without taking the one from me.

Armed with the new knowledge, I spun around toward Derek, aiming the gun at him.

“No, no, no.” He sat up, or at least, he tried to, shaking. His mouth was swollen, blood trickling down his jaw. “Wren, please, no. Please. I'll never hurt you again. I'll never—”

“Too late, bastard.”

I pulled the trigger.

Derek’s back hit his chair, the shock on his face being the last emotion he would ever express. He writhed, crying. He lasted a few seconds, but I watched him die.

And it was done.

A slow clap caught my attention. Sloane was grinning, clapping for me. “I'm so proud of you,” she mouthed.

But I also heard what she didn't say. You're one of us now. And I believed that.

Because for the first time in my life, I was free.

Chapter Fifteen