Page 98 of Taming Seraphine

Leroi steps in behind me and shuts the door. “See for yourself.”

My pulse quickens with anticipation. I already know this isn’t Samson. The bound man is older, hairier, and fatter.

I snatch off the hood and stare into the unconscious face of the bastards who haunt my dreams. Julio Catania, the man who pinned Mom down to Dad’s desk, wrapped his meaty hands around her throat, and pounded into her until she fell limp.

My ears fill with the remembered shouts from that night, Mom’s cries for mercy, my bumbling cowardice, the way I sobbed into the phone, begging 911 for help.

“Where did you find him?” I whisper.

“It took a lot of digging and a few favors, but we tracked him down to a summer house that belonged to his sister,” Leroi says, his voice low. “I drove down and collected him while you were asleep.”

“Is he drugged?”

“I knocked him out with a punch,” Leroi replies.

Drawing back my arm, I deliver a slap so hard that it echoes across the enclosed space. Julio’s head snaps to the side and he grimaces.

“What the...” he slurs, his eyes squeezing shut.

I deliver another blow, this time the sting travels up to my elbow.

Julio glares at me, his eyes burning. I can already tell he doesn’t recognize me because he’s still calm. He doesn’t realize he won’t leave this truck alive. Yet.

“I’ve thought about you every day for the past five years.”

His eyes widen, confirming my suspicions. He doesn’t even look like he recalls what he did that terrible night. Maybe he’s lost track of the many women he’s assaulted and murdered.

“Who are you?” he asks.

“You don’t remember?” I lean closer, my blood set to boil.

The pulse between my ears pounds so hard that I can barely hear the man’s rapid breaths. Grinding my molars, I trace a finger down his cheek, enjoying how he recoils.

“Do you remember Evangeline?” I ask, my throat constricting.

Recognition flashes across Julio’s features, followed by wide-eyed horror. He struggles against his restraints and rocks back and forth, trying to knock aside his chair.

I bare my teeth. “I’ve thought about a hundred different ways to repay you for what you did to her.”

“It wasn’t me.” He shakes his head. “I was under orders. Frederic?—”

“Is dead, and you’re here to take both sets of punishments.”

Julio’s gaze darts to Leroi, although I’m not sure whether it’s out of some sense of male solidarity or if he’s delusional and desperate. Leroi wouldn’t lift a finger to help him after all the trouble he went to tracking down the bastard rapists.

Leroi clears his throat. “You might consider bartering his life for information.”

My head whips around, and I glare at Leroi, who’s standing by a table in the truck’s corner. Is he taking Julio’s side?

He opens up a wooden box containing a display of knives, followed by a tool kit crammed full of orange-handled implements. “If Mr. Catania chooses not to redeem himself, there’s plenty here that will make him talk.”

I study Leroi’s features, wondering if this is some kind of game. Even if Julio handed me Gabriel’s address and the key to his cell, I would still give him a painful death. I shake off that thought. Leroi is probably reminding me not to kill that bastard before I extract some intel.

“What do you want to know?” Julio asks, his voice rising.

Leroi nods, giving me the go-ahead to start.

“Where’s Gabriel?” I ask.

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