"Ya think we should cover his eyes, Vin? Or should we let him see where he's goin'?" Tony asked, tormenting John William.

"Nah, I think we oughta keep the sick prick guessin'. I'll cover his eyes. That way, it'll be a big surprise." Vincent laughed.

Vincent leaned over the front seat again, cut John William's dirty undershirt from his chest with a knife, and tied it around his head, over his eyes.

"You like this whole blindfold thing, don't ya, scumbag? You're into kinky shit, right?" Vincent taunted.

John William remained motionless in the backseat of Tony's car; blood oozed from his nose and dripped over his fleshy, misshapen, swollen lips. His mind whirled as the car drove at a high rate of speed. Then they began to turn-left, left again, right, left...Where are they taking me? John William wondered.

Then gravel crunched under the tires as the car inched its way toward Tony and Vincent's destination. Tony stopped the car and turned off the engine. John William focused on getting through whatever torture they had in store for him and then getting back home to let Myles know he'd need help to get even with these thugs.

"Let's go, you dimwit," Vincent snarled. He roughly pulled John William from the backseat of the car.

John William's ankles had been tied together, and he hobbled to keep his balance. Vincent, Tony, and the other two mobsters lifted John William and carried him feet first into an old, deserted house in Bucks County that was owned by the mob family.

"Take him downstairs," Tony barked. "We got everything waitin' for him."

Down in the basement, Vincent removed the shirt that covered John William's eyes, and Tony switched on the flashlight.

"Nice place, ain't it?" Tony growled. "Probably a step up from that prison where you were taking those kids."

John William followed the beam of light along the splintered ceiling rafters to the cinder block walls. Then the light went to the dirt floor, which was dotted with puddles of stale water where rain leaked in through eroded cinder blocks. He breathed a small sigh of relief; it was a nasty, rotten place, but no worse than the prison where Maggie and Seth had lived.

John William looked up at Tony. "What do you want from me?"

Tony smiled wickedly. "Well, now that's a good question. We want to know who your boss is, that's all."

John William returned an evil smile. "You don't have a chance in hell of getting me to tell you anything."

"Oh, I see," Tony said calmly. Then Tony lifted his arm and shone the flashlight at a chair ten feet from where they stood. "Move him closer," Tony said.

Tony and Vincent could feel the fear in the air as John William gawked at his future.

"Yeah, you ain't such a smartass now, are ya?" Vincent said.

"This here is called the Judas chair-some medieval contraption we like to use on special people like you," Tony said in an icy voice.

As John William got a better look at the chair, his body began to shake. Over a thousand sharp, metal spikes covered the back, armrests, seat, leg rests, and footrests. John William had seen a lot of sick shit in his business, but this was altogether different. The chair screamed pain and agony.

Then, John William reverted to the nine-year-old boy tied by his parents to the chair under the stairs. His phobia of being in tight spaces, tied up, or confined, came crashing down on him. He suddenly felt as though he was being choked. His legs began to tremble.

"So, here's what's gonna happen...you're gonna tell us who the boss of your kiddy ring is. 'Cause if you don't, guess where you're goin'?" Tony said. "Right. You're gonna sit in that chair, and all those sharp, spikey things are gonna rip through your rotted flesh."

Through the thick fog of his anxiety attack, John William considered his options. If he told them what they wanted to know, Myles's organization would surely kill him-they'd probably shoot him in the head. However, if he didn't, these guys were going to strap him in the chair and make sure his death was long and excruciatingly painful. He decided quickly that he'd rather be shot in the head. He might even have a chance to run before Myles and the other sex traffickers could find him.

"Speak fucker!" Tony yelled, his patience wearing thin. "You want to remain silent, huh?"

"If I tell you, then you'll let me go, right?" John William asked, eyeing the chair with pure fear.

"Like I said, ya tell us who the head guy is or you're gonna have a seat in dat chair."

"His name is Myles Cabello," John William admitted.

"Oh yeah?" Vincent said. "And where does this asshole, Myles Cabello, live?"

"In New York City," John William confessed.

"Is this Myles guy the same guy who made Maggie his girl?" Tony asked.

John William nodded.

"Let's just review here for a minute. This Myles guy, dis grown fucker, took Maggie, an eleven-year-old kid, as his girlfriend, right?" Tony asked, his voice becoming low and steady.

John William looked at him. "Yeah, that's him."

"I see. So then let me get somethin' else straight. You're the lick-ass that took Maggie away from her family, and then you brought her to this guy, Myles, who had sex wit' her all da time. Do I have dat right?" Tony said.

John William nodded.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't hear ya," Tony said with rage.

"Yes...yes. I took her because Myles was the boss, and he told me what to do," John William said, trying to deflect the blame.

"Hmmm, that's interesting. So, are ya sayin' that when ya forced Maggie to have sex down in the basement of some house where ya kept kids in dog kennels, this shithead, Myles, made ya do that too?" Vincent asked.

John William shook his head. "That was a mistake, and I'm sorry I ever did that to her. I'll apologize to her, I swear I will."

"You know what cha are? You're a filthy little weasel who hurts little kids. Do ya think you're foolin' us? Ya think we're stupid?" Vincent said, clutching John William's chin in his large hand.

Vincent released his grip and turned to Tony. "What do ya think we oughta do with him, Tone?"

Tony pulled a fat cigar from his pocket, bit off the tip, spit it on the dirt floor, and worked on lighting it. After several minutes had passed, he finally spoke. "Well, he told us what we wanted to know. But he's a real fuckin' menace to society, and well, little Seth died 'cause of what he did and all. And, well, Maggie told us a couple of other kids under his care died, too, when they lived in dat house. So I say we do what we said we were gonna do," he stated.

"Get all of his clothes off," Tony told the two mobsters, who were there to help.

Chapter One Hundred Forty-Nine.

John William's clothes were cut from his body, and he stood in the damp, dark basement naked and scared. The four men stood around him in a circle, each of them watching him, provoking the same fear that he'd made so many children feel. They knew it would never be possible to match the fear of a helpless child who had been taken from her family, but they wanted him to get as close to that breaking point as possible.

One of the mobsters pushed John William toward the chair. Then the other gangster gave him a hard nudge.

"Please, I told you everything I know," John William begged. "You said you would let me go if I told you."

Tony cocked his head to the side and looked at Vincent. "Did we say dat? We never said we'd let him go, did we?"

"Nope, I didn't hear nobody say nuttin'. Did you two fellas hear me or Tony say we'd let this good-for-nuttin' little bitch go?" Vincent asked the two mobsters.

They both shook their heads. Their pinched expressions looked set in concrete. They were serious about the work that had to be done.

Tony grabbed John William by the cuffs around his wrists and dragged him close enough to the chair that his knees were touching the edges of the spiked leg rests.

"Now, ya see these spikes? What happens is when ya sit on the chair, those sharp, metal spikes go into your skin. And when dat happens, you'll start to bleed real slow, 'cause ya see, if you're strapped down real tight to the chair, which ya will be, those spikes will stick in ya, and it won't let the blood drain outta ya real fast. Eventually, you'll bleed to death, but nice and slow, see? And when you move around, or we move ya ourselves, those spikes dat are already stuck in your skin-did I mention that?-they'll hurt like hell. In fact, I'm sure it'll feel like you're actually in hell," Tony taunted to prolong John William's anxiety.

Even in the cold basement with its dirt floor and cinder block walls, the sweat was pouring down John William's face, chest, and back. As he stood with his knees touching the formidable chair, he understood his fate. Tony and Vincent couldn't know that they had picked the one form of death that John William feared most. His memories of when he was a small boy returned, and he could vividly recall his parents tying him to the metal chair naked and leaving him in the small closet under the stairs for hours. John William was finally feeling the fear and panic that the children he had kidnapped felt when they awakened in the back of his van.

Tony stepped closer to John William, who felt Tony's hot breath on his face as he said, "It's time, John William. By the way, who da fuck in their right mind calls themselves by their first and middle name? The only people I can think of who do dat are serial killers. Did ya ever notice that, Vin? Those serial killer motherfuckers use their first and middle names so they always got three fuckin' names. Probably 'cause they're all crazy bitches like this sorry-ass slob."

"You know, Tone, I never thought about dat. You're right, though...they always got three names," Vincent said, playing along to extend John William's discomfort.

Tony took a step away from John William. The two mobsters stepped forward and removed his handcuffs. Then they turned John William so his back was facing the chair. They slammed him down into the staked chair. Screams of terror erupted from John William's very core. He squirmed, attempting to get off the chair, but that only drove the metal stakes farther into his flesh. Then Tony fastened one of the leather armrest straps as tightly as he could; Vincent did the honors on the other side. They bent down and strapped John William's ankles as tightly as possible to the legs of the chair, embedding spikes into his calves and thighs. Finally, they fastened the strap around his neck. John William was transported into hell, a hell on earth, as he waited for death.

Tony and Vincent stepped back from the chair and looked at him.

"Holy shit," Tony bellowed, "that's gotta really hurt your balls."

Tony leaned down and put his nose to John William's nose. "It does hurt your balls, doesn't it? And uffa, ya probably got one of dose spikes stuck up your ass, too. My suggestion is ya try and stay as still as ya can 'til ya just fuckin' die."

Over the next two days, Tony and Vincent stayed with John William. When they leaned down to talk to him, they'd press on his arm or leg, driving the spikes deeper into his body. At one point, Tony took a wooden box filled with old, heavy tools and threw it onto John William's lap. They didn't let him sleep; they slapped him in the face or threw water in his face if his eyes closed. Their goal was to make sure he stayed awake to feel every moment of his horrible circumstances.

At the end of the second day, John William died when Vincent grabbed him by the ears and repeatedly slammed his head into the spikes of the headrest. It was an appropriate and torturous death for John William. Tony and Vincent felt as though they had given the rodent a proper send-off into eternal hell.

As they left the property in the middle of the night and dumped John William's naked body on the side of the road, with his own driver's license shoved into his mouth, they felt victorious. They left the ogre in a place where they knew his body would be found, and they rejoiced in the work they'd done. There was no greater feeling than punishing those who deserved it the most.

"We did real good, Vincent," Tony commented as he drove back to Philadelphia.

"I know, Tony. I think it's one of our best kills yet," Vincent answered, reflecting back on all the pain associated with the method they'd used to kill John William.

"Now we need to see about this Myles guy," Tony said thoughtfully.

"Yeah, I already have one of our soldiers on it," Vincent said.

"Good. One down, one to go."

The Final Hours

After seeing John William, a day didn't go by that Maggie didn't look over her shoulder, waiting for him to reappear. Lorraine was driving Joey to and from school to be sure no one got near her. Colby was on guard, as well. Lorraine told Detective Harker what happened at the bowling alley, and he made sure the police watched Maggie's apartment and Joey's school. Maggie never uttered a word to anyone about her phone call to Tony and Vincent.

Maggie couldn't believe she was reliving her nightmare. She had a constant, gnawing fear in the pit of her stomach. Her thoughts wandered to the things they'd do to Joey if John William got his hands on her. She could barely think about it without becoming edgy and short-tempered.

Three weeks after seeing John William at the bowling alley, an envelope arrived in the mail. There was no return address. She turned it over in her hands as if expecting something terrible to happen. Sitting in her living room, Maggie ripped open the envelope. Inside were two clippings from two different newspapers.

MAN FOUND DEAD ON SIDE OF ROAD IN BUCKS COUNTY.

A local man was found dead on Swamp Road in Doylestown on Tuesday. The body, discovered by motorists, was naked and covered with what appeared to be multiple stab wounds. The victim was identified as John William McCloud, 32.

The coroner's report said that over a thousand puncture wounds were found on McCloud's head, back, legs, and arms. The report indicates that the victim bled to death. The Bucks County District Attorney's Office is investigating. Anyone who has information related to the crime is encouraged to call the local police department.

McCloud was the son of the late Daren McCloud of Philadelphia, the last caretaker of a former prison on Fairmont Avenue in Philadelphia.

Maggie sat back on her sofa and tried to absorb what she'd just read. She thought back to the day at the bowling alley when she'd called Tony to report that John William was following her. As the story of his horrifying and painful death began to sink in, Maggie felt a sense of liberation. John William had ruined her young life. His actions had caused Seth, Cali, and Max to die. A feeling of joy and freedom began to form, and stress poured out of her body as if someone had opened a faucet in the center of her soul. John William had finally gotten what he deserved, even though no amount of torture could make up for the pain and suffering he'd caused so many children. She rose from the sofa and, although it was only noon, went to the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of beer from the refrigerator. She settled back down on the sofa and looked at the second article in the envelope: PROMINENT NEW YORK BUSINESSMAN FOUND DEAD.

City real estate developer Myles Cabello was found dead on Monday in a Dumpster near his apartment on the Upper East Side of Manhattan.

Cabello, a native of Brooklyn, was 46. Police said Cabello was found hog-tied with his throat crushed and his genitals mutilated with what the coroner believes was a razor blade. The cause of death was suffocation, according to the coroner's report. A police spokesman told reporters, "Whoever killed Mr. Cabello really wanted him to suffer. The way in which he died indicates that this was not a random killing, but a calculated homicide to insure that the victim's death was painful and prolonged." According to police, Cabello was last seen leaving a bar two blocks from his apartment at around 10:00 p.m. the night he died.

Cabello's wife, Harriet, told a Channel 7 Eyewitness News reporter, "Myles was a man of honor. He always put his children and his family first. He was a good man who never harmed anyone in his life." Mrs. Cabello went on to explain that her husband had no enemies, and she and her three children were shocked and deeply saddened by their loss. "Our family hopes the person responsible for killing Myles is found and put to justice."

Police continue to pursue all leads in the case. The Cabello family has posted a $25,000 reward for any information that leads to the arrest of the person responsible for his murder.

When Maggie finished reading the second article, tears were dribbling down her chin. These were not tears of sadness, but tears of retribution. She felt euphoric. Many others were involved in the sex-trafficking cartel; she knew that. But it gave her peace to know that the two men who had obliterated her childhood and killed the people she loved were now dead.

Maggie didn't share the articles with anyone. Instead, she lit them on fire and let them burn to ash in the kitchen sink. As they burned, she thought about Cali, Max, and Seth. In the end, they had all won. Tony and Vincent had killed John William and Myles. She felt no guilt and had no sense of wrongdoing because the two barbarians got exactly what they deserved. Maggie would never mention a word to anyone about what she knew. It was a dirty little secret that she intended to take to her grave.

"Hello?"

"Tony, it's Maggie. I just wanted to say...I just wanted to say hello. I'm doing really well now. Will you tell Vincent that Joey and I are doing really good?" Maggie asked.

"Yeah, I'll tell him," Tony said, feeling good about killing the two grimy cockroaches.

"You're good men," Maggie stated.

"You take care, now," Tony said, his voice thick, and then he hung up the phone.

"Who was that?" Joey asked as she walked into the kitchen.

"Oh, nobody. Wrong number," Maggie said.

But as Maggie turned away from Joey, she felt breathless. She flipped her long blonde hair over her shoulder. Then Maggie closed her eyes and took long, even breaths in through her nose, suddenly aware of all the delicious aromas in her kitchen. The eleven-year-old who still lived inside of Maggie Clarke-Derby had finally witnessed true justice.

Maggie could finally put the scared and abused child to rest.

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