Page 55 of The Colour of Revenge
"It's… exhilarating," I admit, rolling the word over my tongue, testing how it feels to say it out loud. "Seeing them in pain—just a fraction of what they put me through—yeah, I'm enjoying it."
Kai chuckles, shaking his head. "You and Nate are made for each other."
Unexpected pride warms my chest.We are, aren't we?
"Guessing you're not as big a fan?" I ask.
He shrugs. "It's not that. I agree with what we do, or I wouldn't help. And I'm good at it. But the violence part? That's never been my thing."
I tilt my head, curiosity creeping in. "Then why do you do this?"
Kai exhales, his gaze shifting toward the cabin's stark white ceiling. "My mother… she wasn't a good person," he begins, his voice quieter now. "I'm not going into details, but let's just say I get the desire for justice, especially when the system fails." His eyes flick back to mine. "You can probably relate."
A reminder that neither he nor Nate have uncovered the full scope of my past. A small victory. They've tried.
Kai smirks suddenly, shifting back into something lighter. "Plus, I'm great with computers. Which makes scrubbing CCTV footage of Nate prowling around that much easier."
I let out a soft chuckle, shaking my head at his dry humour, but the cabin door swings open before I can respond.
The temperature in the room shifts.
Nate steps inside, and my pulse kicks up when his eyes find mine. He doesn't need to say anything—his presence commands the space, his wicked grin promising something unholy.
"It's showtime," he murmurs, voice smooth, laced with anticipation.
My breath catches as Simon steps in behind him. He stares at the room, his expression shifting from confusion to unease. His throat bobs.
"What is this pla—Naomi?" he stammers, eyes widening in disbelief as he locks onto me. Then he turns to Nate, his voice rising. "What is this?"
I don't react to the name. Not yet.
"Sit down, Simon." My voice is cold and steady. A command.
Simon doesn't move. "What do you want from me?"
Nate moves so fast that it's almost supernatural. He's gripping Simon's shoulder in one sharp motion, forcing him into the chair.
"She said, sit." His tone is laced with quiet fury.
Simon flinches. The moment he realises what kind of situation he's in, his entire body stiffens.
Nate's gaze flicks to mine, and I read the silent message in his eyes. He heard what Simon called me. We'll be talking about it later.
I step closer, tilting my head, watching as Simon panics beneath the weight of my silence.
"What I want, Simon," I say finally, my voice soft, almost warm, a lie wrapped in silk, "is for you to no longer exist."
Simon stares at me, brain still struggling to catch up. "W… what?"
I nod toward Nate.
Before Simon can react, Nate slips behind him, tightening the restraints around his wrists. The chair groans under Simon's struggle, but it's useless.
This is happening.
And I can't wait to watch.
"I'm done talking, Simon." I stalk towards him, like a predator ready to pounce on its prey. "You don't deserve my time. I want you gone so that my mind can finally be free of you."
