Page 127 of All for her Forgiveness

"What?"

"Make him pay. My way."

SOMEWHERE IN THE MIDDLE OF NOWHERE

The full moon lights up the outside of the warehouse. The night would be perfect for sleeping with my wife outside, on the yacht, as we did several times in Greece, except that my mission today has nothing to do with love or happiness but with the purest hatred.

Beau is standing in the shadows next to Roman at the warehouse entrance, but I can't see his face. It blends in with the darkness. Maybe he's part of it, just like me.

There is a trait my brothers and I share. We all take after our paternal grandfather in that way. We do not pity the enemy. However, I think the three of them have a limit to what they would do to someone they hate. That imaginary line that separates man from animal. At this moment, mine is completely blurred; the demarcations have disappeared.

After I quickly greet Beau and Roman, I open the warehouse door.

I see Ryan as soon as I enter. The light isn't strong, but I can make out the bastard's bloody silhouette on a metal table, like the one butchers use to cut up pieces of cattle.

I realize that Beau, or his men, haven’t treated him well in the month since he was captured, which I appreciate. As soon as I get closer, I see that he is blindfolded.

It is a shame that it has to be this way, but it is necessary because unfortunately we will have to hand him over to the justice system alive. After the trial, Beau gave me his word that he would get him out of prison so I could have my final reckoning.

There are cuts and a lot of blood on his naked body.

His blood reminds me of Kennedy's. There was so much on the bathroom sink counter at the beach house that they had no problem taking several samples.

I haven’t talked to her about the video again. I don't want to bring that night back, even though I know it will happen sooner or later when she regains her memory. I wasn't there, but what I watched on the recording was enough to keep my hatred for Ryan burning.

Memories flood my mind, stirring up the anger I carry.

"Whose plan was it?" I ask.

"Who are you?"

"It doesn't matter. The only thing you need to know for now is that I don't have much time for you today. We can do this quickly or slowly, but just so you know, I'm not the patient type. The more time you waste, the more painful it will be for you. Now, show that you have at least one functioning neuron and answer my fucking question.”

“Pam,” he says after several seconds of silence. "She wanted me to play with the girl, Juliet, so that the Greek would see that she was nothing more than a slut."

The Greek.

He has no idea that I'm the one who’s here? He's much more stupid than I imagined.

"A slut," I repeat, feeling my blood bubbling.

"Look, man, tell your boss that I had nothing against the girl. I just wanted to have fun."

I walk over to where there are several knives laid out. After picking one up, I approach him again. "You call drugging and raping a nineteen-year-old girl ‘fun?’ There's no need to answer. It doesn't make any difference." In one precise movement, I cut off his dick.

His scream sounds like the beginning of my healing. Like a balm for my wife's pain.

I work on him for about half an hour. Every time he faints, I throw water on his face. I want him awake and experiencing the same terror that Kennedy, who at that time was already pregnant with my son, even though she didn't know it, experienced.

Ryan tells me what happened in detail. From Pam's plan for me to be disappointed in Kennedy to the idea of drugging her and even the moment when, tired of chasing my wife around the house without finding her, he decided to vent his frustration on Pam, who kept teasing him, saying he was an incompetent incapable of fulfilling an agreement.

However, he doesn't reveal the final part, when he killed her, and I wonder why. No matter how much I torture him, Ryan doesn't confess to the murder.

“If you don't stop, you're going to kill him,” Beau says behind me, but I still can't let go of the knife.

"One last thing and I'll be leaving."

I stay for about five minutestaking careof his face, and only when I am satisfied do I stop. "Now we're talking."

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