RONAN To err is human, to forgive is divine. It’s a good thing I’m not fucking named divine. The gates to the Langford estate groan as they open. Malachi and I step out of the car in silence. No words are needed. There’s a weight pressing on both of us—rage, guilt, years of torment, and the bleeding image of Sarah’s almost lifeless body in Jaxon’s arms. Now the last one I can never forget. No matter what. It’s tattooed permanently in my brain. It’s a horror I’ll never get over or forgive myself for. I take the lead. The closer we get to the underground room where Abel promised to keep him, the stronger the stench of blood becomes. It’s thick. Metallic. Almost sweet. No. It’s really sweet, because I know whose blood it is. We step inside, and there he is. Chained. Stripped from the waist up. His skin is a beautiful canvas filled with red marks and purple bruises, some parts of his skin still ooze out blood. His arms are stretched tight above him, with his wrists chained to the concrete beam. Malachi angles his head towards me. “He looks really good, doesn’t he?” I chuckle. “He would look better with his head chopped off.” “Oh. I totally agree.” I turn my attention back to look. His head hangs low, allowing me to spot the blood stained ends in his greying hair. “Took you boys long enough.” His voice echoes in the room as he steps into the light. Uncle Abel stops and leans in a corner with his drink in his right hand, while he casually stirs the amber liquid with a silver spoon? Correction. A finger. A human fucking finger. Malachi whistles low behind me.“You didn’t hold back, uncle.” Abel raises his brow. “You boys asked me to keep him breathing. I did. Barely.” The last word has me shaking my head with a wide grin on my face. Luke lifts his head with effort. One eye is swollen shut, the other is bloodshot red, brimming with defiance. He tries to smile, but it looks so fucking silly. With his fucking cracked lip and dried blood forming a mustache over his mouth. “Ronan,” he croaks. “Hey boys. You came to watch me die, didn’t you?” “We wouldn’t miss it for the world.” He takes the words right out of my god damn mouth. I let the thought of Sarah roam in my mind as I walk up to him with slow and deliberate steps. I want to remember how scared she looked when she looked into the camera. I want to remember the way she screamed at us, how angry she confessed her hatred for us. I want to think of her scream as he stabbed her leg. All that energy charges into my fingers, and I roll them into a pretty fucking tight fist. And this fist crashes into his ribs. Hard. He wheezes out a breath. “That’s for my mother.” Another punch. A cracking sound follows. It sure as hell better be his bones. “That’s for every night she cried herself to sleep.” Malachi steps up beside me, breath heavy, eyes wild. He swings a crowbar across Luke’s back. “And that’s for every time you locked her in the basement like a fucking animal.” Luke groans in pain and his knees buckle slightly, but the chains hold him up. “You’re a fucking monster.” I hiss. “You don’t even deserve the death we’re about to give you. I should cut you into pieces and feed you to dogs, you fucking animal!” “You always tell us we ruined your marriage by coming into your lives, but that’s a fucking lie.” I taste my sweat on my tongue: “It wasn’t our coming that made you hate her. You never loved her.” His corky smile suddenly disappears. Did that sting? Because I’m not done yet. “She was better than you. Stronger. Braver. Kinder. She came from a better family, and you were envious of her. You hated her for it.” Malachi presses a hot blade to Luke’s ribs. He lets out a raw scream that bounces off the walls. I lean close, face to face with him. “I told you, didn’t I?” My voice drops, trembling with fury. “I’m going to fucking kill you for what you did to Sarah.” Luke tries to smirk. “It’s nothing different from the torture you three were going to put her through down the line. You’re no better than me.” Malachi moves faster than I’ve ever seen. He sticks the knife into Luke’s mouth, slicing through his gum with steady hands. I’m impressed, to be honest. Blades were always Jaxon’s thing. Three teeth go flying. Blood pours from his mouth now, dripping down his chin like wine. “We love her, we loved her. And you…” I can’t even find the words to speak to him. Just looking at his face makes me so angry, makes me want to…want to kill him. And God. I know I need to be better. If I’m ever going to be good enough for Sarah, this bloodlust of mine was to end. I swallow hard, wiping the beads of sweat off my forehead as I suck in a deep breath. “She was ours to love. And you tried to fucking destroy her.” Another hit. A backhand. Then a punch. My knuckles are soaked in blood, but I can’t stop. I see Sarah’s face, pale and broken, her blood staining Jaxon’s shirt. I grab a nearby bucket filled with ice water and hurl it in Luke’s face. He gasps from the cold. Uncle Abel had the whole thing prepared, and I can’t thank him enough for that. “You tied her up. You stabbed her. You made her cry. Made her beg. Our baby girl. Our fucking baby girl!” Malachi picks up a hammer. “She was screaming, you sick fuck,” he mutters. “You did that. I should take your lungs for that.” He swings the hammer against Luke’s knee, hitting it with brute force. Luke’s knee cracks. The scream that comes from his mouth is something only hell could produce. Uncle Abel laughs from where he stands, quietly watching. “We’re going to break you slowly,” I whisper into his ear. “Not because it’ll undo the damage. But because you don’t deserve an easy death.” “I didn’t spend fifteen years planning my revenge,” he rasps, “just to die in chains…” I cut him off with a knife. Not into his body. Across his cheek. Deep. His scream cuts off into a gurgle. “You don’t get to fucking spesk!” Then I turn to Abel. “Give us one hour alone with him.” Abel smirks and lifts his drink. “Don’t make too much of a mess. The cleaning boys hate stains on the ceiling.” Malachi and I get to work in silence. Just years of hate poured into flesh and bone. We break ribs, take our time to undo him completely, one ugly piece at a time. And still, I want more. He had Sarah. He touched her. When the blood pools at his feet and his mouth is too swollen to speak, I finally pause, panting, trembling, soaked in sweat and all the hatred in my chest for him. Nothing is working. Why isn’t anything fucking working? Malachi collapses into a chair with a blank face. Does he feel the same? The raging emptiness in my chest? The sound of my ringtone snaps me out of my reverie. I almost don’t answer, but with Jaxon and Sarah in the hospital, it might be from them. When I take it out of my pocket and stare at the screen, the name on the screen makes my heart stop: Langford Private Hospital. I snatch it up. “Hello?” “Mr. Hawkthorne,” the nurse says, “Jaxon, your brother, is awake.” My knees go weak. I look at Malachi. “He’s awake.” Malachi stares at me. “And Sarah?”“I don’t know.” But I swear—if she’s not, if she never opens those eyes again—this man’s suffering is only just beginning. I look back at Luke. He’s barely breathing. But still alive. Good. I’ll make sure he stays that way…until Sarah says otherwise. Maybe then, killing him won't leave me so empty anymore.