Gotcha!
Listening with half my brain on her spiral, I use the other half to do my research. I start with the obvious connection. Betty knows Norris, thisGarrison’sgrandmother. Within a minute, I have the identity of her bingo buddy. Norris McGaffrey.
Locating Garrison Humphrey, grandson of Norris McGaffrey, takes only seconds. Soon enough, my screens display his whole life. Bank accounts, correspondences, address, employment, insurance… I access everything.
Then I take it all.
I start with his job as an attorney at a private firm. A few clicks of my keyboard reveal the clientele he represents. Of course the reprobate would be morally corrupt and conceited enough to defend the abominable vermin of this city. Rapists and abusers. But the ones with wealth and power. The ones who get away with it.
It’s unacceptable. This degenerate was in my angel’s presence. Tarnishing her with his scummy personality.
The job is the first to go. With an anonymous tip to the Massachusetts State Bar Association, his penance begins. I funnel money from client accounts into his personal ones, then leave another tip to his partners. Being fired isn’t enough. He needs to be destroyed.
Now, I can’t let him just keep that money. So, I empty his bank accounts into terrible bets across many sports gambling apps and donate the rest to women’s shelters. They deserve it after the harm he’s brought by proxy upon victims of those he defends.
The next retribution is his lovely home. I hack his mortgage, empty what he’s paid, and reset it with a higher interest rate. Then I send an automated alert to his bank that he’s gone into overdraft. By the end of the month, his house will be repossessed.
My final move is a gamble. But I’ve always been great at calculating the odds. So, of course, when I bet that the egotistical bastard would make a sex tape, I knew I was right. I post it to his personal website. Then, email a copy of it to his entire contact sheet, both personal and professional.
With each click of my mouse, with each act of vengeance, the tension eases from me. After twenty minutes when justice has been served, my shoulders relax on their own, and my heart slows. Cecilia’s breathing exercises may calm my brothers, but nothing satiates me quite like revenge. Especially against those that wrong my angel.
It’s not the first time I’ve cyberattacked someone in her defense. I do it for her. Well, and for anyone that wrongs my family. But only when it’s justified. Only when the target is truly wicked and deserving.
There’ve been a few guys who tried to date her. One that didn’t abandon the date when cornered in the bathroom. Last I saw, he was suffering in his parent’s basement. He’s fallen from pediatrician to janitor.
On my lesser days, men who upset her at work, the ones who make her cry, or flinch, or fear, or blush, or giggle, or anything… they pay too.
They all should pay.
And I intend to make them.
Chapter 7
Lizzy
“You’re a whore, Elizabeth! You’re fucking Randal!” Vincent bellows. “You stupid bitch.”
I shake my head, trying to find the words to deny his wild accusations, but I can’t get them past the lump in my throat. When he storms forward, taking another thumping step, the tears I’ve been fighting pour out.
“Those tears don’t mean anything, you lying slut,” he spits at me.
I try to shake my head, but it’s the wrong move. One hand clenches around my throat, blocking off any air to my lungs. The other hand raises to my face. I flinch, expecting the hit, but instead, am greeted with a caress along my cheek.
“If you can’t stay loyal to me, then you don’t get to be mine.” His soft tone clashes with his fury. It’s the mania he submits to. Bringing him up then dropping him down. He cups my cheek and leans in. “But the thing is, you’re already mine. And no one else can have you. Do you know where that leaves you?”
My blood pounds in my ears, blocking out most sound. Despite every cell of my body urging me to push him back, myarms stay glued to my side. The tremors running through me battle with the calm surfacing within me. Maybe if he just holds on a little longer, I will finally be free of him.
“Dead,” he whispers.
My eyes close, and I let the peace flow through me. This is it. This time, he’s going to kill me. I’m sick of fighting him. I’m tired of the violent mood swings. The absurd accusations. If this is the only life he’ll let me live, then I’d rather he just get it over with.
Instead, though, he sighs dramatically. His grip on my neck relents, then both hands are cupping my cheeks.
“Elizabeth, I’m just messing with you. You know I love you.” His loving tone brings bile to my throat even as I gasp for air. But I don’t open my eyes. I can’t fall into those green pools again. Because the love battling the craze brings forth nightmares.
“OPEN YOUR EYES!”
He shakes me violently until I comply. And when I do, his face relaxes into a dopey grin. It’s a grin I don’t trust. One that sends tingles down my spine.
