CHAPTER 55 #2
Together, we grab onto the bag and pull Veno out of the closet. He squirms like the worm he is, trying to get free. It’s no use, though.
I bend down, but Finn hauls me back up. “Don’t get so close, Lil’.”
I roll my eyes at him. “It’s fine. He honestly can’t hurt me anymore.” Finn watches me closely, but at my words, he relaxes a bit.
I crouch down beside Veno, stare into his eyes as he writhes in pain.
“This,” I say, my voice cold. “This is how I wanted to remember you. Helpless. Desperate. Full of poison. Getting exactly what you deserve. Eye for an eye. I nearly paid some other lowlife to make you his bitch but I didn’t want you to get even a measure of satisfaction out of it.
Plus, there are just some lines I’m not willing to cross. ”
Veno tries to glare at me, but his eyes flutter as if he’s going to lose consciousness again. So I slap his face to get his attention. “That closet. That’s where I hid from the cops when they came to shut down your operation. That’s how Goose found me.”
His eyes flicker to Finn and then back to me.
“If I hadn’t been hiding when they raided the place, then we would have never met.
I’m thankful for that. Not any of the shit you put me through.
But I’m fucking thankful that I get to come back here and know that I survived it.
That you won’t survive me. And that there was some grand reason why it all had to happen the way it did.
It sucks, but it’s my life. My story.” I stand and move away from him.
I wasn’t sure if he would, but Finn speaks next.
He pulls out a knife and squats down. He covers Veno’s mouth and uses his grip to keep his head steady.
He trails the tip of the blade down and cuts the teardrops from Veno’s face near his eye, while Veno squeals like a pig.
“You put a fuckin’ meth lab in my dad’s house.
He was dying, and your boys were cooking your poison in his house.
My last fuckin’ piece of him. That house, all of our memories.
You took that from me. So, I made it my mission to take you and your operation down.
As soon as Edge is out of prison, the HOCs will hunt down every member of your little gang and your brothers.
Rest assured, they’ll be joining you in hell real soon. ”
Veno is pleading now, but his pleas fall on deaf ears.
Finn adds, “Let’s see what the real Devil thinks of you, shall we?”
I make the sign of the cross and say, “Amen.”
Finn smirks at me, and I grin right back.When every single tear drop is removed from Veno’s face, Finn sets down the knife and holds his hand out to me. “Hand me the syringe.”
I go to my bag and pull out the small box.
I open it. In the foam inlay is a syringe with enough PCP and Adrenaline to deliver a near-deadly dose.
It’ll have Veno hyped up and hallucinating, filled with paranoia.
The Adrenaline will spike his heart rate, blood pressure, and make him feel like he’s dying.
He will lose complete touch with reality.
It’ll induce so much fear in him that he may just die of fright before the other poison now filling his veins from the little critters in the bag with him kills him.
For the next few hours, if he lives that long, he’ll be experiencing a waking nightmare, and there will be absolutely nothing he can do to escape it.
I place the syringe in Finn’s hand, and he wastes no time in finding a vein on Veno’s neck and pumping him full of the drug.
Veno writhes, bucking against the unyielding fabric of the bag. Within seconds, he’ll be seeing things that aren’t there, and panic will devour logic. The drugs, poison, and Adrenaline will have him racing on an endless road toward madness until the moment his heart finally stops.
We watch and wait until it takes hold, then, together, and under the cover of night, we carry him out to the car and stuff him into the trunk.
I jump into the passenger seat of Finn’s Roadrunner as he slides behind the wheel.
As we pull away, I let my gaze drift back to the hotel, picturing how it’ll look once we’re done with it.
We’ll tear it down piece by piece and rebuild something that saves lives instead of destroying them—a halfway house where people battling addiction can detox, get therapy, and find a fresh start.
First, though, we have to stick to the plan, take down the Thirteens, and free Albuquerque from scum like them.
After that, we’ll make this place a haven for people like us, and find the right specialists to help us run it right.
It’s a long-term goal—but it’s one we’re both ready for.
Raven will run the strip club, and Finn has promised to up her salary again when that happens.
As we drive through some of the most desolate plains of New Mexico, the night lights up as lightning streaks across the sky. It comes in waves, and the storm looks like it’s gathering force. It only grows closer as we drive west.
Finn rolls down the windows and smirks at me knowingly.
I grin right back and put my hand outside the window to let it surf in the wind rushing by.
Every so often, thunder rumbles and drowns out the low tunes playing on the car stereo.
It’s a frightening and yet beautiful sound.
It’s as if the world knows how important this night is and is celebrating this victory with us.
When we arrive at the place we’ve chosen for this special occasion, Finn parks his car as close as he can to the hole. Together, we lug Veno to the spot. The bucket we brought out here earlier is beside the pit.
Thunder rolls above us, and lightning pulses sporadically through the night sky filled with gray clouds.
Finn drops Veno like a sack of potatoes, and it’s music to my ears when I hear he’s still alive and kicking.
Veno thrashes inside the body bag, the nylon shuddering with every convulsion.
The scorpions trapped in there with him are probably no doubt attacking his bare skin, their stings punching hot needles of venom through his veins.
He tries to scream, but the duct tape over his mouth turns every howl into a strangled, wet gasp.
Finn crouches down. He looks up at me to make sure I’m ready. I am.
I couldn’t remove the wicked grin covering my lips, even if I wanted to, as I open the small four-inch cap on the top of the bucket that we rigged, and funnel the thick hose inside.
Finn does the same and cuts a hole into the body bag, and inserts the other end of the hose before adding a few layers of duct tape so nothing can escape.
Then I tip the bucket on its side and watch all the scorpions travel through the clear tubing to their new home.
Veno’s breaths tear through his nose in ragged bursts, each inhale too shallow, each exhale a muffled whimper against the tape.
Veins stand out like ropes across his temples, pulsing under skin slick with sweat and venom.
His eyes, wide and glassy, dart wildly around, and his head shakes from side to side as he tries to scream behind the tape—as if he’s fighting invisible horrors only he can see.
It’s a symphony to my ears. Something I have waited ages to hear. It fucking soothes my soul.
And I have to admit. The absolute agony covering his face is a sight that will bring me great joy for years and years to come.
My smile builds as I listen to the sweet music he makes.
It closes an old wound. I imagine it does the same for Finn.
Facing this demon from our past and ensuring he never ventured back into the light of day, was something we both needed to do before we could move forward and start planning our future.
Using my foot, I roll Veno closer to the hole. Finn helps. Then Finn passes me his spare flashlight. We let Veno’s head hang over the edge so he can peer inside the black pit, which almost looks like an abyss.
I shine the light directly in his face as I crouch beside him.
“We measured it. The drop is nearly twenty-seven feet. So you’re likely to survive it as long as you don’t, you know, land on your head.
You will, however, probably have some severe injuries from that kind of a fall.
My hope is at least a few broken bones. A leg, an arm, maybe both.
I’m sure that alone will be agony. But nothing you don’t deserve, right? ”
Then I shine the light into the hole and let him see the pile of bones at the very bottom, Finn threw in days ago. Where he dug them up, I have no idea, and I didn’t ask.
As my light moves, the dark ground moves too. The multitude of scorpions I’d been breeding for months have been relocated here. The snakes were an added bonus from Finn.
We just wanted to make sure there was no way Veno would walk away from his fate. He’ll die in this cavern, filled with poison, and no matter how loud he screams for help, no one will hear his pleas or come to save him.
Veno must catch on because his struggles renew.
Finn stands beside me at the edge of the hole. He kicks some dust into it, and with the light shining down, it almost looks like glittered fog in a spotlight, like when I’m on stage.
I glance up and see Finn is mesmerized by it, too. His gaze finds mine, and he grins.
“You ready to end this chapter, Lil’ Bird?”
“So fuckin’ ready. You?”
“More than. You want to do the honors?” he asks.
I stand and dust off my hands. “Together?”
He nods, “Together.” So we do just that. We make sweet music together as we push Veno over the edge. Finn holds me through the concerts of sound after he hits the bottom.
I hold off on my final plans for Antonio and the rest of the Veno inner circle.
Finn and I agreed to let the HOCs take care of the remaining Thirteen Devils—they’ve earned the right to dish out their payback for what they did to Edge.
Edge deserves his own shot at poetic justice, too.
Once he’s freed from prison, all bets are off, and the poor excuse of a truce between the HOCs and the Thirteen Devils will come to an end.
I’m counting down the days.
Finn arranges for the HOCs he trusts most—and the ones I’m confident in—to come out to California under the guise of protecting me while he goes under the knife. We’re going to use the opportunity to bring a few of the brothers in on the bigger picture—the scale of the war that may be coming.
I promise the women I’m working with in Veno’s circle that, for now, this is for the best. Having the HOCs on their side won’t just improve our chances of surviving—it’ll make them more likely to help long-term, to offer real protection when it counts.
To give the women something now, a taste of justice, we take out one of the Thirteen Devils’ major warehouses—one stocked with product that puts them deep in cartel debt.
I let two of the girls play lookout while I fire at the propane tanks outside.
They’re sensitive enough to blow from heat alone, and they do just that—the first one goes when my bullet hits, then the other.
We wait.
We watch.
From the roof of a nearby building, we grin as half a dozen Thirteens scramble to escape the flames. Just when they think they’ve made it out, the bomb we planted the night before goes off. They try to run, but the blast is massive, and few, if any, survive.
It’s the cherry on top of a slice of revenge that has me grinning on the inside for days—and leaves behind a deep, unshakable satisfaction.
I also hand over part of the contents of the suitcase Deeds gave me to the women.
Over the next few days, they distribute it to the others on the street and in Veno’s warehouse, where he ran his sex trafficking operation.
The men who visit at night start getting sicker and sicker.
When the poison kicks in, sex is the last thing on their minds.
The visits dry up.
The girls get a sliver of peace.
And the end finally comes into view.
My plan—no matter how ugly or soaked in darkness—is being carried out for the right reasons. The tattoo I’ve been planning for my right ribcage will mark the occasion. It says it all:
Be the hand of fate, if fate needs an angel to fly the Devil back to hell.
It’s not a beautiful bird. It’s a vengeful angel with black wings, surrounded by sparks of pink sky, gray clouds, and lightning. It’s the only kind of angel I’d ever consider myself to be. One that shouldn’t be fucked with anymore.
It’ll take a long time to complete, but time is one thing I have in abundance. And it gives me an excuse to get closer to the best tattoo artist in New Mexico—Taz.
Who also happens to be the most unhinged HOC and the last man I need to test to see where his real loyalties lie.