Chapter XXXIX
CHAPTER XXXIX
With Aldo Bern gone, Devin Vaughn squatted before the child. He ran an index finger over the glass that separated them, following the curve of her cheek down to her mouth, which hung open in repose.
“I’m sorry, honey,” whispered Vaughn, “but we’re going to burn your twisted brother. I wish it didn’t have to be this way, but it looks like the bad men will keep on keeping on, and we can’t have that. So we’ll set the boy alight and film the results. Maybe it’ll convince old Blas to call off his dogs, because if he loves you enough, he’ll want you to remain unharmed. It’ll pain me, and I know it’ll pain you, too.” This Vaughn was curious about, though he did not say so aloud. He wondered whether the girl would react when the boy was incinerated. Would she know? Would Vaughn hear her scream? “All I can promise is that you’ll be safe. You can count on it. You’re mine now.”
Vaughn listened to her reply. The girl’s eyes remained closed, and if she spoke, it was in a voice only he could hear.
“Hush, now,” he said. “Please, hush. It’s okay.”
But she would not be calmed, repeating a name, one that bounced around inside Vaughn’s head like the slug from a .22, slowly tearing his mind apart.