Page 80 of Dirty Valentine
“So this was all revenge?”His voice carried across the clearing.“Three centuries of planning?”
“Justice,” the three women said in unison.“The truth must be known.”
“Victoria Mills figured it out,” Jack continued, buying precious seconds.“That’s why you killed her.”
“She got too close,” Judith admitted.“I handled it personally.”
The DNA under Victoria’s fingernails would match Judith, not Potts.
Jeri’s hands were free now.She was still playing unconscious, waiting for the right moment while working on Richard’s bonds.
The fire was getting dangerously close—another minute, maybe two, before it reached them.
Jack made his decision.
He pulled a flashbang from his tactical vest.“Everyone down!”
The explosion was pure sensory chaos—blinding light, deafening noise, disorienting percussion that turned coordination to confusion.In that moment of chaos, Jeri proved why she’d raised a son like Jack.
She burst into motion, using her freed hands to finish untying Richard, then practically hauled him toward the edge of the circle with strength born of desperation.
“Now!”Jack shouted.
We rushed forward.Potts reached for her weapon, but Plank was already on her, driving her into the mud with professional efficiency.She fought with vicious strength, but training and fury won.
Evangeline tried to run, but Martinez caught her in three strides, bringing her down with a textbook tackle.
Judith fought hardest—she was the one who’d beaten Victoria Mills to death, and fanaticism gave her strength.But when she pulled the knife and went for Daniels, he broke her wrist with a sharp crack that echoed across the clearing.
Jack reached his parents just as burning wood began to scatter from the collapsing pyre.I helped drag them clear, checking vitals while he cut the remaining ropes.
Smoke inhalation, some drug effects from whatever they’d been given, but their airways were clear.They’d be fine.
“Mom?”For just a moment, Jack’s professional mask slipped and he sounded like a worried son.
Jeri opened her eyes, focused on his face.“Took you long enough,” she said hoarsely, then started coughing again.
The three conspirators were secured, hands zip-tied behind their backs.In the dying firelight, they looked older somehow, as if their failure had aged them years in minutes.
“It’s not over,” Judith said through split lips.“The documents are already uploaded.Everyone will know what your ancestors did.”
“Good,” Jack said simply.“The truth should be known.But you’re going to prison for murder.”
EMTs arrived as backup swarmed the scene.The smoke from the scattered pyre was dissipating quickly in the night breeze, no longer a threat now that the fire was contained to small, manageable piles of ash and ember.
“You okay?”Jack asked, his arm settling around me as we watched his parents argue with EMTs about not needing hospitalization.
“Fine.”I leaned into his solid warmth.“It’s over.”
As we walked back toward the boats, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something had finally been laid to rest.Not just the three-hundred-year-old injustice, but the weight of secrets that had been poisoning King George County for generations.
The truth was known now.The guilty had been exposed.Both past and present.
I pressed my hand to my stomach, thinking about new beginnings and futures free from ancient vendettas.
“Pancakes?”I asked as we climbed into the boat.
Jack actually laughed—really laughed—for the first time in days.“With extra syrup.”
