Page 33 of Cyber Revenge

No streams. No socials. No sound.

And I know,know, she’s in there with the lights off, curled up under a blanket, phone powered down, body locked in a trauma response she doesn’t deserve.

All because of him.

Patrick.

I sit across the street in the Challenger with the engine off and my rage humming so loud I can barely breathe through it.

He hadn’t just hurt her.

He fucking unmade her.

The first creep shows up that night.

1:17 AM

He pulls up in a beige rust-bucket, tinted windows, hoodie up, phone in hand like he’s recording the whole thing.

I watch from the shadows across the street, dressed in all black, tactical mask pulled down, boots planted in silence on the cold asphalt. I don’t move until he crosses the edge of her property line.

He pulls out a pocket knife and starts tapping it against one of her windows like a horror movie cliché.

That’s enough.

I step out of the darkness and cross the street with the wind at my back.

He doesn’t hear me until my hand is already around his throat.

He spins, wide-eyed, but I shove him back into the side of his car hard enough to dent the panel. The knife clatters to the pavement.

“Wanna explain what you’re doing here?” I growl.

He tries to lie. Stammer. Beg.

So I break his nose with my elbow.

He hits the ground with a wet crack, blood gushing down his chin, choking on his own teeth. I straddle his chest and let my fists do the rest.

By the time I tie him up with zip-ties from my trunk, he looks like a Halloween prop, swollen face, one eye sealed shut, blood in his ears.

I drag him to the curb, drop a burner phone next to him with screenshots of his Reddit post asking for Lydia’s address, and wait for the cops to arrive.

I watch from the shadows as they roll up.

Flashlights.

Confusion.

Custody.

Cleanup.

Then I go back across the street and wait.

I watch Lydia walk out in sunglasses and a hoodie, holding her daughter’s hand. Small suitcase. Airport run.

Her daughter hugs her around the waist at the curb. Lydia bends down and kisses her on the forehead, whispering something. She doesn’t cry. Not in public. She’s too strong for that.

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