Picking up the disposable, or what I referred to as a toss phone, I sent a single text:

The sun’s up.

Then I pressed Send.

Without waiting for a response, I got out of the vehicle and headed to the room I’d been watching all night. The paint was peeling from the worn door. It was number 45, but the 4 was missing. There was only faded paint where it had once been. I stepped back and, with one swift kick, opened the door.

I didn’t bother with the lights as I closed the door behind me.

“What the fuck?” a groggy voice said as the fat bastard sat up in bed.

I didn’t respond. He didn’t deserve a response. I wasn’t here to answer his questions. He was going to answer mine. I took a seat in the chair beside the window. He’d already closed the curtains, so I didn’t need to do that myself.

“I’m calling the police,” he said, his voice betraying his fear.

I took the gun from my waist and shot the phone, sending plastic pieces flying in several directions.

“Motherfucker!” the man yelled, jumping up. I was thankful he was wearing underwear and I didn’t have to see his saggy shit. “There’s a silencer on that thing,” he said. And then he recognized me. His beady eyes went wider than I thought possible as he held up both hands. “I didn’t do anything else. You said if I left, I could live. I haven’t left this hotel room.” He started rambling.

I leaned back and watched as fear began to take control of him.

“You said—” he began again.

“I said if you walked out, I’d let you see another sunrise,” I replied, then reached over and drew back one of the curtains. “There. You’ve seen it.” I let the curtain fall back into place.

“I’ll leave. I won’t come back.” He started rambling again.

I rested the gun on my knee and glared at the man who had done disgusting things he couldn’t undo. Things that made him worthless. Unforgivable. “I know you won’t come back,” I said evenly as I continued to watch him.

“She’s a liar. She was always a liar. Whatever that bitch told you, she’s lying. She stole from her mother. She broke her mother’s heart—”

“I’d stop now,” I interrupted him. I ran the tip of the gun along my jeans. “The moment you raise your voice, I’ll silence you. Permanently.”

“What do you w-w-want?” he stuttered.

“I want justice. I want Reese to live the life she deserves. I want for every dirty, disgusting fucker like you to float in your own blood. That’s all I want.”

He shook his head as he backed away from me. “She lied. Whatever she said, she lied. She’s a manipulator. She uses her body to make men do what she wants.”

“Do you know who her real father is?” I asked him, tilting my head as I memorized the fear in his eyes.

He shook his head. “No. Man knocked her momma up and ran off. I saved them. I took care of them. I was the one who kept a roof over her head. I took care of her, and she didn’t appreciate it. She expected more.” He was grasping at straws. Men who knew their breaths were limited said anything they could to save their worthless lives. I’d seen it before. I’d heard it all before.

“Why did you look for Reese? She left your home when she was sixteen.” This was something I simply wanted to know. If there was anyone else out there who needed to be stopped, I wanted to make sure it was handled. But from all the research I’d done, it was just this sick bastard.

“Her mother, she had papers with a trust fund for Reese. She never said who it was from. I didn’t recognize the name. We tried everything to cash it in, but it was impossible. We struggled to raise that girl, and she owed us. Her poor mother passed away from exhaustion. I can’t pay her medical bills—I couldn’t even give her a proper burial. That money belongs to me. Reese owes me that. She owes her mother that.”

So he knew about the trust fund. That explained it. “When did her mother die?” I asked.

“A month ago,” he said, looking less terrified. He thought he’d made some headway with me. If he only knew.

“So the bitch is dead. That’s good news,” I replied, as I lifted the gun and pointed it directly at his head. Standing up, I relished the pure horror in his eyes as he backed away.

“You can’t . . . I told you wh-what she did. What she owes me,” he said, his voice shaking.

“Reese owes you nothing. You stole her innocence, and you turned a little girl’s life into a nightmare. Not to mention you convinced her she was stupid. You marked her life in a way that can never be erased. Her past won’t ever disappear. It’s there inside her. She will deal with it for the rest of her life.”

He shook his head. “She wanted it,” he began.

And that was all I could take.

The bullet left the gun silently, and for a split second, I got to relish the look in Marco’s eyes as he knew his time was up. He fell to the floor with a thud, and I put the gun back into my holster. The hole in his forehead oozed blood that covered his face and began to puddle on the floor. His eyes were wide and empty.

He was the last bastard I’d send out of this world. My job was done. It was time I moved on from this. Taking out the man who had hurt Reese was the best way to close the door on this part of my life.

When it had all started, I hadn’t meant to fall in love with her. I knew her heart had been taken. But she was hard not to love.