GavinCarlos topples to the ground howling, his non-bandaged hand slack, streaming blood from a wound on his palm.
I grab the gun and point it at him.
“I came as fast as I could,” Torrie says, “He had me locked up down there in the room.”
“Thank you,” I say, “I was coming for you.”
Her eyes are shining, and she looks sloppily beautiful, with her red eyes and improperly buttoned shirt.
“You should look away,” I say.
She gapes at me uncomprehendingly.
“I’m ending this,” I explain.
Her face falls.
“I already incapacitated them all inside,” she says slowly, “You don’t need to do that.”
Now it’s my turn to gape at her.
“Torrie. Your brother was going to have you shipped out as a s*x slave.”
As if he wants to help my cause, Carlos rolls onto his back and, eyes flashing, whimpers, “f**
