John twists in agony, his mouth open around another scream. For the first time, there is no performance in his eyes. No control. No lesson. No power.
Just terror.
For a few seconds, I watch him burn.
Then I raise the gun.
My sight settles between his eyes while flames claw up the side of his face.
The shot tears through the room.
The bullet punches into the center of his forehead with a wet, brutal crack. His head snaps back from the force, and the back of his skull bursts open against the heat and smoke. Blood, bone, and tissue spray across the burning marble behind him, hissing where it hits the flames.
For a split second, his body stays locked in place, fire rolling over his face and neck.
Then everything gives out. John collapses hard onto the floor while the flames keep eating through what is left of him.
The room goes still except for the crackling fire.
Seth steps closer and his shoulder settles against mine. His eyes move over my face, searching for any crack in the calm.
“You alright?”
“Yeah,” I reply.
I close my eyes.
I didn’t shoot him out of mercy.
I shot him because I was done listening to him scream. Done letting him take up space in the world. Done letting him be the shadow at the center of every ruined thing inside me.
That bullet wasn’t forgiveness.
It was closure.
For the first time in years, the pressure inside my chest is gone. No scream presses against my throat.
Seth reaches down and grabs the fuel can Beau brought upstairs. He starts pouring the remaining gasoline across the floor around John’s burning body. Fuel splashes over the marble and spreads beneath overturned chairs and shattered glass while the fire crawls outward in bright waves.
“Let’s go.”
We move through the villa quickly, checking corners and clearing each doorway as we go.
The stairs creak under our boots as we go down. We don’t talk until we hit the bottom floor and see Beau.
He’s in the living room near the back entrance with another gas canister resting beside his leg. Beau looks up when we enter. His expression stays flat, but his jaw is tight.
“I have someone waiting at a rendezvous point,” he says. “They can take the two girls from there.”
Seth nods once.
Beau continues. “You and Brooke wait somewhere near the coast. I’ll take them to the point. I’ll come back for you. Then we take the plane out.”
I look around at the expensive furniture and the soft lighting and the quiet walls. I think about the girl upstairs, the one that was already dead.
“First,” I say. “Let's burn all this shit down.”
Beau’s mouth twitches slightly like he already knew that was coming.
