In the last few years where he had learned how best to make a person hurt and the various ways he could achieve this, Valon didn’t think he had seen anything like this. Over the course of two days, Valon had done unmentionable things to the boy, had lost himself a time or two throughout the torture, but through it all, the boy held out.

That wasn’t even to mention what Strom had done to his lover.

Valon might not have shied away from what he and Fatos did to the boy, but he refused to take part in the gang rape. His morals might have been questionable at best…but he did have some.

After only a couple of hours of sleep on the first floor of the house they were in, Valon headed back upstairs, ready to begin it all again.

Ignoring the others, he looked at the boy as he always did; feeling that familiar stab of guilt at what he’d endured. He was sitting in a puddle of his own urine, his face a mass of bruises, and Valon didn’t have to see what his back looked like…he’d done that himself.

The girl was passed out, unlike the boy, and Valon was glad for this. It was enough that the boy was suffering. She didn’t have to, too.

He was nodding off, his dark, sweaty hair hanging around his face like a dark halo. Valon was not in any mood for carving his back up any further, so he kept to the back of the room, giving him a reprieve for as long as he could, but that idea was short-lived as Jetmir came charging up the stairs, a bucket of water in his hands.

His every step was clipped as he moved across the room, a desperate gleam now present in his eyes.

If Valon had to guess, then he was frustrated as to how long the boy was holding out. Not many people would have been able to keep quiet with the sheer level of pain Valon had put him through, not to mention what the girl had suffered. So, either the boy was a masochist…or there was something else, something that Valon was beginning to consider…

There was a timeline. Valon remembered that much from the day they’d visited the Besnik mansion to get the details of their assignment. Since he had held out for this long, they were running out of time.

Without a word to anyone, Jetmir tossed the water on the boy, stepping back when he lurched awake, his gaze shooting around the room. When he realized not much had changed, his entire body slumped with defeat.

“Your time is up,” Jetmir announced as he tossed the bucket to a corner.

Valon became all too aware that something big was about to happen as Fatos and Strom finally entered the room. Fatos was carrying a can of gasoline. The boy noticed this next as his eyes widened in fear.

Jetmir gripped the boy’s hair, forcing his head up so that he had a clear, unobstructed view of the girl, and then motioned for Fatos to come and take his place.

Valon knew what he saw once he had a good look at his lover, especially since during a good amount of what she had suffered, he’d been passed out. How, if he showed such weakness as he gazed at her, could he not tell them what they wanted to know, if only to spare her?

“I’m sorry,” he said hoarsely. “I’m so sorry.”

She sniffled, shaking her head as a tear fell down her swollen and bruised face.

“I have given you ample opportunity—more than, if we are being honest—but you have continued to defy me. To what end, only you know.” With Fatos now holding the boy secure, Jetmir crossed the room. “What more must be done before you break?”

Jetmir pulled a black lighter from his pocket, the pad of his thumb drifting over the onyx casing and the engraving that Valon was too far away to see what it actually was. Each time Jetmir flipped the top back, the flame igniting, flickering in the darkness of the room, a sliver of anxiety slid down Valon’s spine.

This…this was not going to end well.

“Tell me what I want to know,” Jetmir said, all traces of anger gone from his voice as he made the same request from the first day.

The boy, who seemed to detect the very thing that Valon did, sat up straighter, shaking his head once more. “I’m not who you’re looking for. I don’t even know what it is you even want!”

Sighing, as though the boy had once again disappointed him, Jetmir grabbed the red, plastic container from the floor, walking the short distance to her. Whistling as he unscrewed the cap, he dumped the contents onto her head, laughing as the liquid soaked her hair and washed away the traces of red on her thighs in seconds.

Whatever spell had kept her quiet up until this point wore off as she struggled, coughing behind the gag that was stuffed in her mouth.

When the acrid scent of gasoline hit him, the boy began begging in earnest. “Please…I’m not who you think I am. I live in Florida. I work construction! Whatever you want! Money? I can get it for you! Anything. Just please, let her go.”

Jetmir ripped the gag free from the girl’s mouth, her sobs now loud enough for them all to hear. Valon, not even realizing it, took several steps back, until his hands curled around the banister, the wood unrelenting under his grip.

Again, he held up that lighter, the flame dancing and sparking, as if it too was anticipating the moment of contact.

“One last chance.”

The couple met each other’s eyes, their helplessness clear. And for just a moment, Valon could see it in her eyes, the moment when she knew she was about to die, and instead of fear, there was acceptance. Valon flinched, feeling like he had intruded on a moment he was not meant to witness. He wanted to turn away, to not scar himself further by witnessing this, but it was as if he was glued to the present.

He had to know and accept what he had caused.

Her lips were moving like she was trying to say something, but she never got the opportunity.

“Please…”

The word had barely passed the boy’s lips when Jetmir stepped away and tossed the lighter. As it clattered to the floor, it was barely a second later before the gas ignited and the girl was consumed.

She screamed as the flames licked at her skin…

He screamed as he watched the girl he loved burn to death…

And Valon watched it all, dying a little inside.

He had to get out.

He had to get out.

He had to get out.

Before it consumed him, too.