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"They say if you can't beat them, join them.” I tell her. “What my father did, what Davos does, is ruin lives. So, I do my best to save them. I built an empire of my own so that I can afford to buy some of their victims right out from under them. I find them new identities and resources, and then I wish them luck and move on to the next one. But sometimes, that's not enough. Sometimes, I need a little vengeance."
The man tied to my chair is so focused on Claire, yelling against the tape on his mouth and straining against the chains, that he doesn't see me pick up the knife.
Dimitri brought him here instead of to the warehouse so that he could get to work cleaning up the Jovich mess. He didn't know why I requested this man be brought to me, but he'd set up the tools anyway, just the way his predecessor would have.
I choose the knife, hoping he’ll appreciate the symmetry. It’s what he wielded against Claire all those years ago.
"Remy." She says again. She looks so small in the large room, and I imagine she feels even smaller compared to the large man we’re holding captive. He’s easily twice her size, so large that he’d probably break the chair if it weren’t metal.
"He's going to die, Claire. There's no way around that."
Those sweet lips quiver, and she shakes her head. "You don't have to do this."
"Maybe not." I shrug. "But I'm going to. And I want to offer you the opportunity."
"The... opportunity?" She chokes, uncertainty lingering in the word.
She knows exactly what I’m offering her as I hold the knife in my upturned palm. Her eyes glance from the blade to me, so full of uncertainty.
"You don't ever have to do anything you don't want to do, Claire. You are your own person, and I'll never force you or guilt you into anything again. But he is going to die, by your hand or mine. You can do it yourself, or you can watch. Or I can walk you back to the house and come back for him later. But now that he is here, I won't let him go. He dies tonight."
Giante’s muffled scream draws Claire’s attention back to him, and he looks like he’s trying hard to appeal to her sense of morality, to convince her to help him. I wonder how many times she tried to appeal to his clearly non-existent sense of morality. I wonder how many times she cried for him to stop. And my anger only grows, testing my patience. I’d have painted the warehouse with his blood and fed him to the sharks by now if I didn’t think she deserved this chance to kill her own demons.
I can feel the tension rolling off her. Claire’s terrified, but I don't know if it’s of me or the man before her, or the possibility of taking a life, or maybe the fact that she wants to.
"I don't think murder is the answer."
Despite her words, she doesn’t sound convinced.
"Maybe it isn't.” It certainly isn’t a simple thing to do, though it does get easier with time. “Maybe there's a real solution out there to all of the predators and monsters, but if there's a better option, I haven't found it yet. Until I do, I'm just doing my best to protect the ones who can't protect themselves. It's okay if you don't want to take part in that, but I want you to decide for yourself."
"But where does it end?" She asks, searching my face. "I mean, an eye for an eye makes the whole world blind, right?"
"That's a good question," I tell her honestly. I’m not trying to patronize her; It’s a question I’ve asked myself before without answer. It’s the question that’s kept me awake through the night The only way I see this ending for me is in a pool of my own blood. "Maybe we're all better off blind. Why don't you ask him where it ends?"
She eyes the man in front of her like she’s considering asking him and then turns her gaze back to me. "You aren't the first person he hurt," I tell her as gently as I can manage. "And you weren't the last."
I turn and grab the file Dimitri left next to the instruments, flipping it open to the list of names. I can’t stomach looking at anything more than their names again. When I first looked at the file, I had to excuse myself to throw up. Monica was nearly eighteen when Davos showed up in my home and violated her in front of me. He held back because he wanted the threat of what he could do to sink in, but it hadn’t even occurred to me at the time how she was a child. Hell, I was eighteen, but even I was still a child before I was dragged into this shit.
But this file? It’s got literal children. Apparently Eric Giante just decided teenagers were easy prey… the youngest of the girls we know about was thirteen. Claire was fifteen. My stomach twists. I have to get this over with, but I owe it to her to not rush this, not to bully her into participating.
"Cara Thompson, Cindy Jones, Leah Alvarez, Claire Monroe,” At first she looks confused, but when I get to her name, realization takes hold and she presses a hand over her mouth. “Amber Smith, Tiffany Evans, and Misty Carter. That's just what my team was able to dig up. You could ask him if there are more, but I doubt he'd tell you the truth."
She stares at me for a long time with her hand over her mouth, like she can keep the horrors inside. And then seems to remember where she is. She doesn't even look at Eric as she walks by him to pick up the file. I’m silent as she flips through, but she isn't. Her breath hitches at the first page, and by the last, she’s gasping for air like the world is closing in around her. Through all of it, the tears in her eyes don't fall.
"There were more." She says quietly as the realization settles around her. She presses a hand to her mouth like she’s worried she’ll be ill. "Before me and... and after." Claire snaps the file shut and lets her eyes close a moment. When she opens them again to look at me, they’re full of vengeance.
She’s made up her mind.
"Will you help me?"
“Anything.” I nod. "Tell me what you want."
She slips her hand into mine and pulls me tentatively in front of the prisoner, her eyes finding mine as she finds the resolution she needs to commit to this.
"I want him to hurt." Her voice is wobbly but certain as she tries to come to terms with the fact that she’s asking for violence. "For each of the girls." She opens the file and shows him the first picture, studying his face for any signs of recognition, remorse, humanity. She won’t find any of it.
The monster hasn't stopped fighting, but when the picture of the smiling girl is in his face, he looks away. I've never seen or met any of the other women, but I’m sure that girl was forever different after he wrecked her life. I’m sure Claire is.
