Page 92 of The Devil's Den

He takes the photo from my hand and stares at it with deep concentration.

“They love you,” I reassure, stroking his back, knowing it has to be true. “They love you so much. Their baby brother.”

His shoulders rise higher with each one of his inhales. “Maybe.” He sighs, and the way he says that, it cuts into my heart. The vulnerability within him is so beautiful, I ache to hold him and never let him go.

He’s strong, yet tender. Still broken, yet not bruised enough to give up. And that’s what he’s been doing from the moment we met—fighting. But maybe the fight can finally be over. Maybe we can win.

He slips the photo into his pocket, and together, we return to the basement.

Agnelo doesn’t say a word this time when he hears us, his coughing getting worse.

“Was my name Aida?” I stride up to him. “Or is that another lie?”

“It’s wha—sh-she called you,” he flusters, finding it difficult to speak.

“Kill m-me.” With his eyes streaked red, he lifts a defeated look at Matteo, whose footsteps lightly pad the floor before he takes the space behind me.

“I’m not gonna kill you. She is.”

With a shout, I lift the bat in the air. “This is for my mother!” It swings across his neck with so much force, my body shakes.

He groans, still very much alive, and I’m glad for it.

“This is for Ms. Greco!” I smash another hard blow into the back of his head. “For Robby!” I hit him two more times, his skull giving way, pushing into his brain. But I don’t stop. “For Matteo. For his family. For what those men did to me! For Ava! Ahhh!” A scream tears from the depths of my despair as I continue to rain down on him with the wrath that’s been building through the years, for the pain I endured when those men pulled me out of the cage and did what they wanted. But I won’t let him hold me back from a life anymore. I won’t allow him to claim my freedom too. He can’t have me anymore. I’m not his.

“He’s dead now.” Matteo clasps a hand to my shoulder and I slow my movements, my exhales rough as I stare at what I’ve done. Agnelo is no longer recognizable, his skull caved in, blood and pieces of who he once was spread across the mattress. The bat drops with a loud clank, and with heavy weeping, I shatter in Matteo’s loving arms.

“It’s over,” he says. “We’re finally free.”

* * *

MATTEO

We watch the house burn, embers greeting the midday sun as they echo into the air, drifting slowly onto the ground.

There are fragments of us in that home, things that weren’t all bad, like holding her hand as she lay beside me, talking about better days, imagining a future that now could very well be ours. But most of all, it was nothing but a prison, and everything in it was a nightmare masked in the slightest of dreams.

He’s finally dead. His flesh and bones set ablaze. There’s some semblance of comfort knowing he can’t hurt us anymore, can’t hurt anyone.

After she beat him to death, we untied him, grabbing matches from the kitchen before setting the house on fire. We left a gun beside his body, along with a box with the rest of the matches, hoping it’s enough proof for the fire department to think he did it.

Holding her beside me, her eyes are transfixed to the fiery flames that remind me of her madness as she killed him.

Fuck, it was hard to watch. Not because I gave a shit about the gore, but I got a true glimpse of all the trauma she was holding on to.

We didn’t talk about it after. I just held her. Let her cry. And I think that was enough for her to know she wasn’t alone. That she’ll never be again. I’m not chained anymore. I’ll always be right by her side. No one will keep us apart again.

Tires squeal against the pavement and instantly my hand is on the gun, removing it from my waistband. “Find cover,” I tell her. “It’s Agnelo’s men, and they won’t hesitate to kill you.”

“I can fight them,” she tells me.

“I know you can, but I’d fight better, knowing you’re safe.”

She nods, kissing me quickly as the cars get closer, running to hide behind one of the columns on the far right of the house.

Retrieving another weapon from my ankle, I face the incoming vehicles, ready to take them all on.

Three black SUVs rush up the driveway, and I shoot a warning shot into the front of one, taking out a headlight. They pause, just sitting there, the windows tinted so I can’t see who the hell is inside.

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