“That’s… amazing.”
Kaya shrugs. “When all this is over, if you’re ever in need of a job, you know where to find me. I could use someone like you.”
“Someone like me?”
Kaya pauses. “You’re a victim, too. And although most sane people can sympathize with children who have gone through terrible abuse, whether it was mental, physical or sexual, they don’t know what it’s like. Their rage toward those bastards willnever be as strong and as big as ours. My goal is to cleanse the world off them while I’m alive.”
“That’s… on brand for you, to be honest,” I chuckle. “Do you have anyone to pass the business down to?”
“If my brothers end up having children, then yes. Otherwise, no.”
“You won’t have any of your own?”
Kaya laughs. “I was eighteen when I got a hysterectomy. I made sure to never be able to get pregnant. A person with my diagnosis is not a suitable parent. At least, I’m not. I know I’d never be able to provide love and care the child deserves. And giving birth to a child just to send it off to a nanny or a caretaker isn’t what any child deserves. I’ll just focus on trying to keep those existing ones safe.”
I take a good look at her. Kaya, for what it’s worth, isn’t the monster she portrays herself to be. Yes, her diagnosis makes it harder for her to connect with people, and I’m certain she doesn’t feel emotions in the traditional sense, but what she is doing is very brave.
Not many people would have the balls to do it, even with the resources. The fact that her goal is to kill every predator, abuser and child molester is admirable. Not only that, it’s fucking insane. She’s putting her life on the line for the little girl inside of her, for who she was before the innocence and emotions were snatched from her.
“Then, my answer is yes.”
The words fall from my lips before I can stop them. I didn’t want to outright accept it — things like these need to be thoughtout carefully. Yet, that’s the only thing I can see myself doing for a while.
“Perfect.”
“Yes, and we’ll—”
Her words immediately die out when a map opens on her screen, a little, bright red dot starts moving. The sound that comes from the speakers makes me flinch, and I swear, for a moment, I think the Purge is happening.
Kaya immediately turns back to the screen, and I jump to my feet, towering over her from the behind chair, trying to pinpoint what we’re looking at exactly. The location the red dot is moving toward is Brooklyn, and a small frown tugs on the corners of my mouth.
“What is that?”
“That, my friend,” she pauses for a moment, fixing her glasses, “is Paul Simmons.”
My heart immediately starts beating rapidly inside of my ribcage, and I cannot contain the flutter of excitement, and happiness that blooms in my chest. Fuck that, my entire body feels like it’s about to burst into flames.
“He’s out.”
Kaya laughs, her fingers gliding over the keyboard with ease. My eyes are following the red dot, and the fact that this man will be in my clutches very, very soon is making all of the suppressed anger reappear.
I’ve been plotting this. I’ve been planning this since the moment I escaped prison, and Arlo only pushed me forward, helping me carve and pave the perfect path for my revenge. Yet,now that the time has finally come for me to face the worst demons of my life, I’m not scared.
The happiness, the excitement mixes with rage, the feeling way beyond my comprehension. For all the women he’s done this to. For all the people that have suffered abuse by his hand. For the fifteen-year-old Blair who saw no end of the dark tunnel.
For all of us, and beyond, I’ll make him pay. I’m going to ensure the bastard never sees the light of the day, and the last person his pathetic face will see before he perishes like the pig that he is will be mine.
Revenge is a dish best served cold, and mine is long overdue.
I’m coming for you soon , Paul Simmons. And you can’t run anymore.
“We got the motherfucker, Blair.” she says as a sadistic grin spreads across her face.
NINETEEN
My eyes fly open the moment I hear the faintest sound of cars. Our property isn’t easily accessible, hence, hearing cars driving past is the last thing I expect. Add to the fact that it’s after two in the morning, and this entire thing reeks of ambush.
I’m on my feet before I can even form a plan. I put on the first pair of sweats I can find, not bothering to throw on a shirt, and grab my phone. I call Cove, and he answers immediately. He doesn’t ask what’s happening, and I don’t get the chance to tell him. Instead, he just says he’ll be here in ten minutes, and the line goes dead. As if on cue, Aria exits her room, in nothing but her silk pajamas. She’s rubbing her eyes, yawning, and holding her gun. The sleepiness in her eyes when she glances at me and her messy hair make it impossible for me not to chuckle.
