As a general rule, I don’t consider myself a vengeful man. I don’t sit around and plot the downfall of my enemies or fantasize about ending their lives. It’s a lot of effort to keep that kind of hate rolling along for weeks, months, or even years. Especially when you’ve got no guarantee that you’ll get to actually take your revenge, be it served hot or cold. Once I had George safely stowed in the trunk, though, I realized that I had been plotting vengeance on him. It wasn’t a conscious effort. There were no incriminating notebooks detailing what I’d do or how I’d do it. Yet, I didn’t hesitate when I slid behind the wheel. The car found its way onto an eastbound highway with no real decision-making on my part. It didn’t take me long to realize where I was taking him. There was a nice, out-of-the-way cliff about an hour or so outside the city. It was far enough away from civilization that we wouldn’t be disturbed. The cliff was also the kind of place where you could fake a tragic accident. Assuming no wilderness wandering hiker happened by in the near future, the local wildlife would do a good job of dispersing the evidence into an incomprehensible mess.

No, I hadn’t thought it all out consciously. My subconscious, though, had clearly been hard at work planning contingencies for if, or more likely when, George proved himself as stupid as I expected him to be. There was a part of me that was angry with myself. My first instinct had been to simply dispose of George. Abusers don’t change. I knew it, but I’d left Gabriella and her family with him anyway. I’d assumed that his fear of me would be enough to stay his hand. I suppose it was, when I was there all the time as a walking, talking promise of violence. So, he’d done what all ambush predators do. He’d waited until the coast looked clear. I couldn’t do anything to fix what had already happened, God help me. I’m sure that was the point that Annie was trying to make in her stillborn attempt to derail this course of action. The damage was already done. Except, Annie only had it half right.

George had almost killed Elena. It had been a damn close thing at that. If we hadn’t shown up, there was a good chance Gabriella and Mateo would have gotten railroaded into foster care five seconds after they got out of the hospital. I knew that not every foster home was bad, but enough of them were straight-up nightmares that I wouldn’t wish that roll of the dice on anyone. What Annie didn’t see was that this would all happen again and again as long as George was in the picture. Plus, I’d made him a promise. I couldn’t pretend I’d kept every promise I’d ever made. No one does. Hell, no one can. Life is too uncertain for that. I’d keep this one, though. If someone was going to die, and sooner or later somebody would, it would be George. I didn’t relish the thought of taking someone’s life. I knew there was a price to pay for it. Still, I didn’t imagine I’d lose much sleep over someone like George.

Some part of me knew that I was trying to convince myself that I was on the right side of this situation. I wasn’t especially convinced, but some problems only have one solution. The fact that it’s a crappy solution doesn’t make it any less necessary. I’d rather that the cost for it fell on my head, though. I was accustomed to violence. It was pretty clear that Elena wasn’t ever going to stand up for herself with lethal force. Gabriella might have it in her, though. Most people do when push comes to shove. I’d have laid money on it that she wasn’t prepared for the psychological fallout. I might feel bad for a while, but she might rip herself apart with the guilt for no other reason than she hadn’t been prepared for it by years of training. My state of mind when I got to the right exit wasn’t cheerful, but I was resolved. I’d do what needed to be done.

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It took another fifteen minutes on increasingly rough roads to get where I wanted to go. I made a point to take corners too fast, brake unnecessarily hard, and generally ensure that George got slammed around in the trunk. A couple of times I actually heard him yelling in pain. It was way more satisfying than I expected. I stood at the trunk for a long moment and considered what I might do in George’s situation. Escape would have been my only goal. I didn’t keep a bunch of loose tools in the trunk, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t gotten creative somehow. I slipped the key into the trunk lock, turned it, and took a few quick steps back. The trunk slowly drifted open and I waited for a five-count before edging close enough to see in. George was on his back, glaring up at me with murder in his eyes. His hands were hidden beneath him. I didn’t care for that situation at all.

“Out,” I ordered without moving any closer.

“I can’t,” he snarled.

I extended a hand toward him and spoke a word under my breath. Fire engulfed my hand. “Fine. I’ll just burn out your eyes from here and then drag you out.”

George’s eyes were huge in his face. He scrambled out of the trunk, proving that I’d been right to be paranoid. He had a tire iron in one of his free hands. I pointed at the tire iron.

“Drop it,” I said.

I saw his hand tighten around the makeshift weapon.

“No,” he said. “I’m not gonna make this easy for you.”

“If you make me take that from you, I’ll shatter both your kneecaps with it.”

He didn’t hesitate. He charged me and tried to bring the tire iron down on my head with a clumsy overhand swing. I sidestepped, caught his wrist, and twisted away from him. George lost his balance and went face-first into the ground, his wrist still in my hand. I stepped on his shoulder and started bending his arm in a direction nature never intended. After a few seconds of that, he dropped the tire iron. I kicked it away before I released his arm. I let him stand up before I spoke again.

“Here’s the deal, George. You can either jump off that cliff behind you of your own free will, or you can fight me. Then, after I’ve broken half the bones in your body, I’ll throw you off of it. You’ve got five seconds to decide.”

“I’m not jumping off…” he started.

That was as far as he got before I attacked him. I’d like to say I was quick about the whole thing, but I wasn’t. It was a savage beating, yet I had to wonder if it was as savage as the one he gave Elena. Was it as savage as breaking a little boy’s arm? I somehow doubted it. It takes a certain kind of inhumanity to do things like that to someone who is so obviously helpless in your power. I wanted him to suffer for that inhumanity and made sure that he did. A lot of it happened in a blur that never cleared up in my memory, especially toward the end. It’s probably for the best. At least, it’s for the best where my mental health is concerned. I wasn’t anywhere near rational again until I went and picked up the tire iron. I stalked back over to what was left of George and brought the iron down across the man’s knees. He tried to scream, but I must have punched him in the throat at some point because all that came out was a strangled noise.

“Well done, young man,” said a strong, male voice from behind me. I spun and my blood ran cold. Pierce Carter was leaning against the Porsche like he didn’t have a care in the world.