Leaning forward, David stared at the monitor and wondered if she could feel his hate, his rage. At the very least her ears should be burning underneath all that blonde hair. Hell, she should burst into fucking flames.

Everything about her was so clean. Tidy. Neat.

But every pristine inch of that place was coated in blood, and so was she. It didn’t matter how pretty they packaged it, rebranded it, covered it up. It still reeked of death. Corruption.

Movement on the other screen distracted him and he glanced over to see Harry walking around the cell, eyes on the ceiling like he was checking on everything one last time. As he left the room, David flicked off the first monitor and rose to meet him in the hall.

“Everything looks good. Were you able to get the wiring finished last night?”

“Yes, and I’ve run a few tests this morning. It’s just fine. Liam did a good job on the ceiling.” David lifted his chin towards the room. “How’s the door?”

“It would be easier for someone to drill through the concrete than break that door down. Same as the others.” Harry shrugged his shoulders. “But as I told you before, seems a bit of overkill.”

“I don’t leave things to chance.”

A short, barked laugh made Harry flush under his baseball cap. “If you’re going after who I think you are, then you’re already playing with fire, or C-4, or something equally as stupid. Those doors aren’t going to matter. Whatever it is, you should let it go.”

“Let it go?” David asked, a threatening edge tainting the question.

“That’s my suggestion.”

Lips pulling back from his teeth, he growled. “I’m not the only one who wants to—”

Harry raised a hand. “Like I said before, I don’t wanna know what you’ve got planned.” Swinging the new, thick metal door on its hinges, he shook his head slowly. “And I definitely don’t wanna know why you needed this place outfitted like a fucking bunker.”

David forced a slow, deep breath. “That’s fine. I appreciate the help.”

“Yeah, well, this was the last favor I owed your family. But… out of respect for your father I’ve gotta tell you that the last thing he’d want you to do is get yourself locked up, or killed.” Harry brushed his nose and then braced his hands on his hips, staring into the concrete room that was finally complete.

“This is all about respect for my father,” David answered, settling against the concrete wall in the hallway. Studying the older man’s features as they pinched for a moment and then smoothed out.

“Hmm.” The noncommittal grunt was the only break in the silence for a few moments, and then Harry turned away from the room and shut the door. It was a heavy, satisfying sound, the hinges screeching from the weight of it.

It was perfect for a prison.

“Is that the key for all the doors?” he asked, looking to the small silver key sticking out of the handle.

“Yep.” Harry tugged it free and held the key out, but as soon as he reached for it, Harry pulled it back. “I don’t wanna know what you’re doing, David, but I do wanna know when you’re gonna do it.”

“I don’t know. It depends. Why?” Watching the man carefully, he noted the way his fingers tightened around the key, a subtle shake to his hands betraying his nerves. He didn’t want to hurt Harry McConnell, but he would if the man tried to interfere in this.

He’d been planning for too long to have it fall apart now.

“Soon?” Weathered blue eyes held his and he answered with a curt nod. “Then I think I’m gonna take me and the boys on a trip. Somewhere public, with surveillance cameras. Vegas, maybe.”

“Why’s that?” The ice-cold calm was creeping through his veins as he stared the old man down, everything shutting off except for his instinct for violence, the urge to protect the only thing that mattered now — the plan.

“Because if the cops come around asking about you, or this place, or whatever you’re planning to do in it, I’m gonna have proof me and my boys weren’t within a hundred miles of this shit.” Harry offered the key again, and this time he let David take it. “Building is in your name now, so I’m out now, understand? I’m not involved. This goes south, you don’t speak my name, and I won’t say shit about you either.”

David nodded, tucking the key away in a pocket. “Sounds good to me, Harry.”

“Then I’m gonna go.”

“Alright, I’ll walk you out.” Pushing off the wall he waited for the man to start moving before he fell into step beside him. As they approached the new double doors at the end he had to admire the craftsmanship on the thick steel doors. They were braced well, and the security system he’d installed was just extra insurance now. Harry had been the right man to call for this. Even if he’d effectively burned this bridge by involving him… he’d never hated him. He’d known him his entire life. “I meant what I said, I appreciate you helping with this. You and your boys do great work.”

“Yep.” Tugging off his baseball cap, Harry scratched at his thinning hair before replacing it and offering his hand so they could shake. “I’d say good luck, but I don’t know if I want that on my conscience.”

“Have a good time in Vegas, Harry.” David took his hand, feeling the firm grip of a man who’d spent his life working with his hands as they finalized the handshake.

Nodding, Harry stepped through the door and David held it open as the man turned around and met his eyes once more. “You ever heard the saying, before you go on a journey for revenge, dig two graves?”

Something twisted in the cold inside him, but David made himself smile. “Since when did you start spouting philosophy, old man?”

“Since I became an old man, had grandkids, left the old life behind.” Harry adjusted his baseball cap again, sniffing loudly as he looked towards the stairs. “It’s the truth though.”

David felt the cold settle inside once more, a chilling numbness that left him with only the clarity of his well-honed hate. It felt good. “Well, sometimes revenge is worth the graves we have to dig.”

“Then, for your father’s sake, I hope one of them isn’t yours.” Harry didn’t even turn around this time, he just walked up the stairs.

David stood listening to his footsteps ringing out on the metal, bouncing off all the concrete until the door to the first floor opened and shut. The man’s words hung around though, floating in the air, simmering… but none of it mattered. The plan was the plan, and it had been years in the making. There were too many promises, too many deaths wrapped up in the shit already, and even if one of the graves ended up being his, it wouldn’t matter.

Revenge was all he had left anyway.