My stomach bottoms out and my palms become sweaty. I didn’t expect it to be so soon, but there’s no sense in waiting. It’s actually better to get it over and done with.
Tomorrow, I’ll be faced with one of the men who changed my life forever. Not only that, but I’ll watch the life drain from his eyes.
Guilt should grip me at the idea of watching another person die, but it doesn’t. Instead it fills me with a great sense of contentment.
Chapter Twenty-Four
JUDGE
THE CLOSER WE GET TO THE lodge door, the tighter Ellie’s hand gets in mine. She’s been very quiet the last hour, and I wonder if she’s regretting her decision to be present while my brothers and I take care of Billy.
As much as I understand her reasons behind wanting to be here, I still fucking hate it. I don’t want her to see this side of me. I firmly believe what my brothers and I do is something the world needs. Incarceration isn’t a strong enough punishment, and rehabilitation is a joke to some of these sick bastards. There’s not one kill I regret committing.
But it still doesn’t sit well with me that Ellie will see it.
Stopping in front of the door, I turn. Her wide eyes are fixed on the rotting wood separating us from the lowlife inside. Using my knuckle, I turn her face until she’s looking at me.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” I ask for probably the tenth time.
No hesitation. Only her throat bobs as she nods. “Yes.”
“If it gets to be too much, you tell me. If it bothers you in any way, you tell me. If I do or say anything you can’t handle, you fuckin’ tell me, Ellie. You understand?”
“Yes,” she repeats.
We’ve been over this before, but I try one more time to warn her.
“What you’re going to see isn’t going to be pretty and for damn sure not gentle. It’s going to be ugly and hideous. There is no mercy for men like Billy Collins.”
The color drains from her face, but her jaw is set, resolute in her decision. “I’ve got it.”
I turn and push the door open, stopping just inside the threshold to let Ellie take in her surroundings. The lodge is old. A few broken chairs on their sides. Cobwebs in every corner. Dust on every surface. Paper and debris litter the floor.
There’s an old table set up in the center of the room, and that’s where Ellie’s eyes are pointed. Lying on his back with his arms, chest, and legs tied down is Billy Collins. Either he’s been knocked out or he’s passed out, because his eyes are closed and only his chest moves with the rise and fall of his breathing.
Emo is about ten feet away, propped up against a wall in the corner. His onyx eyes blaze hatred as he stares at the piece of shit on the table. Trouble and JW are leaning against the kitchen counter, closely watching Ellie. They didn’t like the idea of her being here either.
Ellie’s hand leaves mine and she takes a few hesitant steps closer to Billy. The fear in her eyes matches the tremors I just felt in her hand.
With her back rigid, she steps close enough to see his face in the dim light of the room, but far enough to keep several feet between them. Her frown is deep as she regards the man who inflicted years’ worth of pain on her.
“Is he already…?” She stops and looks to Emo.
It’s Trouble who answers. “No. Just in a forced sleep.”
I’m actually surprised at the condition Billy’s in. He has some light bruises on his face, and a small trail of blood stains his chin, but other than that, Emo hasn’t done much damage to him.
“Ellie,” I call, and she looks at me over her shoulder. “I want you over here.”
She turns back to Billy for a few more seconds, then walks to me. Her expression is no longer frightened, but instead empty, as if the sight of Billy lying unconscious on the table doesn’t affect her.
I bend my knees and put my face in front of hers. “I can still take you back home.”
She’s shaking her head before the last word leaves my mouth. Giving her a tight nod, I press my lips to hers in a brief kiss. “Stay over here. If you need to leave, tell me and I’ll take you out of here.”
Once I have her agreement, I turn and face the table.
My blood pumps heavily in my veins as I make my way over to Billy and get my first good glimpse of the man who almost took away two people I love. He was twenty-two when he attacked Ellie, the same age as her. He has shoulder-length, greasy, dirty-blond hair and is skinny as fuck. Unkempt full beard and mustache. Clothes that look like they haven’t been washed in weeks. The wretched smell coming off him suggests he hasn’t washed his body in just as long. He’s looks like a cracked-out drug addict. Even if I didn’t know what he had done, the sight of him would disgust me.