Page 34 of Cyber Revenge

But I know the second she shuts that car door, her whole chest will cave in.

I don’t follow her to the airport. But I follow the man in the dark hoodie who follows her to the airport. I see when he walks too close to her as she opens the trunk.

He watches her like he’s been waiting.

He stays on the sidewalk. Doesn’t approach. Just films.

Until I step between him and the rental car.

“Delete it,” I say, my voice low and cold.

He looks up, startled.

I don’t give him time to answer. I smack the phone from his hand, catch it mid-air, and smash it under my boot.

Then I crack him across the jaw with the back of my elbow.

He falls like dead weight. I grab him by the hoodie, drag him behind a parked SUV, and press my forearm into his throat until he stops moving.

He’s still breathing.Barely.

That’s enough.

NIGHT TWO

Another one comes. Younger. Cocky. Hoodie that says “Send Bobs” across the chest.

He doesn’t knock.

He goes straight for the patio door.

I catch him as he’s sliding it open.

He screams when I slam his hand in the sliding glass track.

I break every finger. One at a time.

He pisses himself by the third.

He cries.

I don’t stop.

I wrap his shoelaces around his wrists and zip-tie them behind his back. Leave him sitting cross-legged at the curb, sobbing.

By morning, he’s in cuffs.

Lydia never looks out the window.

DAY THREE

I climb onto her roof.

Set up two more cameras. Recalibrate the motion alerts.

Watch her through her bedroom window, not in a creepy way. I guess any way of watching someone through their window is creepy, but… She’s mine. So it’s not creepy in my mind.

She sits on the floor in an oversized hoodie, hair a mess, vape in one hand, face swollen like she cried in her sleep and again when she woke up.

---