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I’m almost sad that I can’t see her bruised, bloodied face right now, but the sounds—the choking, the gagging, the crying. All of that’s enough.
Her clothes are soaked through when the gallon runs out, and Kieran looks at me, shrugging. “Any last words?”
I glare down at her, removing a match from the box and striking it on the side; the flame glows bright orange, angry and ethereal, the symbol of the end of all my suffering. Of Riley’s path to healing.
Of happiness. Warmth. Love.
All things I’ve never considered myself worthy of, because of this woman.
Shaking my head, I flick the match from my finger, watching it descend and land, engulfing her body in flames almost instantly. “Nope.”
And as I head into the house with her vomit and blood on my skin, the weight of her sins seem to lift from my shoulders, a lightness taking their place that I’ve never known, even as her screams bleed into the night sky, deafeningly satisfying until they cease completely.
