CHAPTER 220 Boom
*Joy*
"It's done," I said through my comms, signaling Xavier and his men to move in.
The echo of the gunshot hadn’t even faded when I turned my back on him.
I didn’t look down.
I didn’t need to.
I already knew what I’d see—a hollowed-out shell, twitching slightly, eyes wide with terror and disbelief. Pete McDowell. Rapist. Puppeteer. Murderer. Liar. Reduced to blood and meat on a filthy mattress, his final expression carved into memory like the rest of them.
My heels clicked against the concrete, each step deliberate, measured. My breathing was calm. Too calm. I expected adrenaline, trembling hands, maybe a surge of guilt—or relief. But there was only… quiet.
I reached for the laptop and yanked out the cord. The screen died with a blink, a merciful silence replacing the countdown. No encore. No sequel.
Just death.
Kiki was at the stairs already, waiting. Her jaw was tight, eyes unreadable. We didn’t speak. We didn’t need to. The bond between women who’ve survived men like Pete didn't need words. It’s blood-forged, primal.
But inside… I was no longer sure what I had survived.
I was still Joy. But not the girl from ten years ago. Not the girl they pinned down. Not the girl they laughed at and broke and left in the gym, like trash.
Tonight, I didn’t feel like Virtue either.
I felt like vengeance in heels.
*Noah*.
His name echoed through my skull like a scream pressed through glass. I’d loved him once. Trusted him with every secret. He’d held me when I was scared, made me laugh when the world felt cruel. And all that time…
He was sharpening the blade.
He was just better at hiding it than the others. Smarter. Colder. I used to think Pete was the devil. Turns out, he was just one of Noah’s pawns.
The stairwell narrowed. The darkness felt thicker somehow, like the air knew what I’d done. What I was.
I didn't care.
I would burn every bridge, every city, every man who played a part in my ruin. I would dig until the truth was raw and ugly and exposed to the light. Then I’d burn that too.
I wasn’t a victim anymore. I wasn’t a survivor either.
I was the reckoning.
And Noah?
He was next.
“We need to torch the place,” Kiki said, already moving toward the warehouse door, her voice low and urgent.
“It’s all cardboard and Styrofoam in here,” I replied. “Just needs an accelerant.”
The door groaned open, and Xavier and Max stepped inside. Max carried a red plastic container, and without a word, began drenching the room in fuel.
Xavier stepped toward me, brushing the hair from my face with a gentleness that didn't belong in this graveyard of sin. He pressed his lips to my forehead.
“I’m proud of you,” he said quietly.
I didn’t know what that meant anymore. But I took it. I needed it.
Then his tone shifted. “But we've got a problem. The Feds have Liam.”
His words hit me like a slap. “What?”
"We don't know much. We’re waiting on Link for an update.” He turned to Kiki. “Grab the woman outside. We need to make it look like Virtue died in the fire.”
Kiki blinked. “Is that really necessary?”
“Yes,” Xavier said, already moving again, throwing the stacks of cardboard to the ground. “The Feds change the entire game. Spousal privilege might not protect Virtue if they think Virtue's an accomplice. They’ll spin this. Make it look like Pete kidnapped her for revenge, not assault. There’s no evidence tying him to his crimes. No dead bodies, not even a prior victim who accused him of rape. They’ll paint her as complicit. We need Virtue to vanish. At least for now.” Xavier stared at Kiki, daring her to argue. "Now get her inside. And you, Virtue, give her your coat.”
I began untying the belt of my coat. “Why do the Feds have Liam?” I asked, slipping it off. I felt the chill in the air, but it was a sacrifice I was willing to make. "Is it because of the drugs?"
Xavier shook his head. “No. He’s in for masterminding the Highland Oaks massacre. Someone talked. The only way to free him is to kill the rat before they testify.”
I helped Kiki drape my coat over an unconscious woman, bloodied and bruised, her clothes torn apart. Then it clicked—she was the hooker Pete had told Big Mike to “get rid of.”
Now, she would become my alibi. I knelt beside her, opened her purse and took her wallet. Somewhere, she had a family. I would make sure her family was taken care of.
“Sam, what’s it like outside?” Xavier barked into his comms, as I stood up.
“The Colonel’s men have Pete’s security pinned down,” Sam responded. “Still a firefight, but if we’re gonna leave, we need to go now.”
“Max, light it up,” Xavier ordered. “Sam, kill the lights.”
Flames roared to life as the first trail of gasoline ignited. The fire moved fast, hungry. The world dimmed as the warehouse was swallowed by blackness and heat.
We ran—Kiki, Xavier, Max, and me—into the night, Sam meeting us in the middle. The air reeked of burning plastic, gasoline, and old sins. At the gate, a white van waited, engine humming.
Sebastian was at the wheel, sunglasses on despite the night.
I climbed in. Behind us, the fire climbed higher, a hellish bloom painting the sky in orange rage.
As we peeled away, huge flames flickered behind us, black smoke curling into the night sky.
Then—
BOOM.
An explosion ripped through the silence, blowing out the roof in a mushroom of fire and smoke. The factory was gone.
Cristos’s voice crackled through the comms. “We have Dan and Jack. Emma and Autumn are still waiting for the Sheriff. As for Lisa, she's here at the pub, drowning her sorrows away with a free bottle of bourbon. No sign of Noah, but we're looking for him."
“Noah’s with the Colonel,” Sam said, peeling off his mask. “Looks like they go way back.”
"No way we can grab Noah with the Colonel backing him," Xavier said. "We need to wait for him to come home. That's when we'll make our move."
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