Page 92 of Cyber Revenge

“Tell me,” I whisper, my heart pounding so hard I can feel it in my throat.

His jaw clenches tighter, his eyes closing for a beat before he finally speaks.

“Patrick and I… We worked together.” His voice is low, rough. “Private security for some high-profile clients. We handled things that most people didn’t want to touch. The ugly shit.”

My fingers tighten in his hair, but I don’t interrupt.

“At first, I thought he was just… brutal. Efficient. But then I started noticing things. Women would go missing. Clients’mistresses. Escorts. Women who got too close. And every time, Patrick was involved.”

My stomach clenches, bile rising in my throat.

“I reported him.” Trip’s voice is harder now, anger bleeding into every word. “I told them what he was doing. Gave them evidence. But instead of taking him down, they fired me. Said I was making shit up. That I was trying to cover my own tracks.”

I can’t breathe.

“I tried to stop him.” His voice cracks, his hands shaking where they grip me. “But he always slipped through. Every time I got close, he found a way to disappear. And when I got too close…”

His eyes meet mine, and the darkness I see there steals my breath.

“He tried to kill me.” My heart stops.

Patrick.

Trip.

They’ve been trying to kill each other for years.

“Lydia…” Trip’s voice is barely above a whisper, his forehead pressing against mine. “I never hurt those women.”

I believe him. I know he’s telling the truth. But the weight of it all presses down on me, threatening to crush me. I don’t realize I’m crying until Trip’s thumb brushes gently under my eye, wiping the tears away.

“I need you to believe me.” His voice is raw, broken.

“I do,” I whisper, my lips trembling as I press them to his. “I do.”

But I need air.

“Trip… I just…” I swallow hard, my head spinning. “I need a minute.”

His jaw clenches, but he nods.

“I’ll be right here.”

I watch him move toward the bathroom, his body tense, his shoulders tight as he disappears behind the door.

My heart is pounding, my chest too tight as I reach for my phone with shaky fingers. I need a distraction. I open social media, scrolling mindlessly until I see the notification.

One new post.

From his private page.

The one, only I follow.

My stomach flips as I tap the notification, and the video fills my screen.

Patrick.

Bound.

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