Page 4 of Vendetta

“Or maybe I’ll let my men have you before I do,” he continues, although I hear the falter in his voice. I wish it gave me hope, but I don't feel it.

He squares his shoulders, then leans down and cuts the tie holding my ankles together. I stand up as soon as I can, just to feel my legs again. He pushes me back onto the bed, where I fall against the mattress.

“Did I say you can fucking move?” he asks, crossing his arms against his chest, the knife still in his right hand.

I whimper, shaking my head. He turns around to leave.

“Why did you bring me here?” I dare to ask.

His whole body stiffens, and when he turns back he gives me a slow evil grin. Shaking his head, he says, “You are not that naïve.”

DEVON

I descend the stairs from the top floor, jiggling the keys to the room I just locked Leighton in as I pass two of my uncle's men. They nod at me, but they don't say anything.

“Nobody goes up there,” I say, with as much calm as I can muster. It should be a given, but I want them to get the message loud and clear.

I may not be in charge around here, but my word still stands for something.

Inside, I'm anything but calm. The news must have spread by now that LeightonfuckingMoore is locked up in a room on the top floor of a house full of people who want nothing but to harm her.

I don't live here, but it's a huge well-guarded estate, and nobody comes in or out if they're not allowed, so that should be enough to keep her inside. I hope she doesn’t try to escape, but that'd be really underestimating her. Sooner or later, she'll get an idea.

Reaching the guest room, I close the door and lock it behind me, taking off my heavy jacket and setting it on a chair in the corner. I exhale deeply, unbuttoning the top of my shirtand pulling out the envelope I stuffed in my pocket. It feels heavy and rough under my fingers. Exhausted, I slump onto the bed, stretching my neck left, then right, and running my hands through my hair. Looking for any kind of distraction, I glance around the room, at the sterile white walls and the black furniture, devoid of any personality, but it’s no good. I can't put it off anymore.

I open the envelope.

It’s different than I expected this moment to be.

There’s a deep hole somewhere inside my chest where a heart should be, because I feel nothing as I read that the skeletal remains of three bodies were found at the new high school construction site.

I feel nothing as I read that the bones belonged to a man, a woman, and a small child.

Without emotion, I go over the evidence and look at the photos of personal effects they found with the remains—a golden watch, a set of wedding rings with a date engraved on them, some disintegrated clothes. A red toy car that used to be mine.

This isn't news to me. I had eleven long years to come to terms with what I know is the truth.

My whole family is dead.

It doesn’t hurt anymore. Now, it’s a simple fact.

On a windy September night, the Moores took down my family. Rebecca, thirty-three years old, my mother. Joe, thirty-five years old, my father. And Joey. Just shy of five years old. My little brother.

For eleven years we’d had no word of them. They were just... gone.

There's no doubt in my mind I wasn't meant to be standing here right now. That there was supposed to be a fourth body in that unmarked, long forgotten grave. Why else would my uncle come and pick me up from boarding school the morning afterthey disappeared? Why else has he kept me guarded for the better chunk of my teenage years?

I’ve been waiting for solid proof for so fucking long. I figured they would try and hide the evidence, but that fucker George did his job, for once, saving the police report that was supposed to disappear.

The Moores and the Andres have been at it long before I was around. I knew that if anyone had reason to do this, it was them.

And now, we finally have proof.

I pull out the knife and the silky material from my pocket. I cut it in half, enjoying the way the sharp blade rips through the silk.

Now, I can finally get my revenge.

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