Page 5 of Cyber Revenge

FIVE

TRIP

“ Y o, Tripster, cover mid?”

Patrick’s voice crackles through the comms. Cool. Relaxed. A little too polished.

“Got it,” I mutter, pushing up from cover and sprinting through the center lane of Grind, the new mid-sized Black Ops 6 map they re-released, a colorful skatepark set near Venice Beach.

We’re playing Hardpoint, holding rotating zones for as long as possible. Fast-paced. No room for hesitation.

Lydia’s voice chimes through as her character ducks into the room behind me.

“I’m rotating to point. You guys are slow as fuck.”

That laugh. That cocky-ass smirk in her tone.

I grin to myself, thumb twitching on the stick as I drop-shot two enemies near the vert ramp. One headshot. One hipfire. Easy.

“I got mid locked, killstreak,” I say. “Push the next hardpoint. You’re clear.”

“Look at us,” she teases. “Killing together. Real bonding moment.”

[TripsterGuy ? LydieLIVE]: If we were alone, I’d say something really filthy right now.

I blink. Then smirk.

Her response came between rounds.

I open the message, thumb hovering over the reply.

[LydieLIVE ? TripsterGuy]: You think I can’t handle filthy?

[TripsterGuy ? LydieLIVE: Oh, I know you can, little killer. That’s the problem.

Fuuuck. I shift in my seat, hand tightening on the controller. She’s good at this. Casual enough to pass off as harmless, but laced with heat that hits deep in my gut.

Patrick’s voice cuts in again.

“Trip, you ever use the AEK-973?” he asks, referring to the new burst rifle everyone is simping over.

“Hate it,” I reply. “Give me a SWAT 5.56 with the conversion kit or the AK-74, and I’ll clear the point solo.”

“Ohhhh, so Trip’s old school, huh?” Lydia says, laughing. “You like to feel the recoil, I bet.”

“Bet he does,” Patrick adds, laughing, but it lands weird. A little too pointed. Like, he needs to insert himself every time I get a little too close.

I let it slide.

For now.

Next round: Domination. Map, Babylon.

Tiny, open center, tight corridors. Close combat hell. We run a three-man team. Patrick on C, Lydia on B, I’m watching both.

“Watch the flank!” Lydia calls out, voice rising. “They’re looping through the center.”

“I got it,” I say, already tossing a flash through the left opening before rushing in and taking them out.

Two kills. Quick as breath.

[LydieLIVE ? TripsterGuy]: You’re kinda hot when you’re violent.

I nearly laugh. My thumb types without thinking.

[TripsterGuy ? LydieLIVE]: You should see me in real life, killstreak.

[LydieLIVE ? TripsterGuy]: Send me something, then.

[TripsterGuy ? LydieLIVE]: Snap?

[LydieLIVE ? TripsterGuy]: lydie.live

That little emoji nearly causes me to lose the next fight. I add her in a heartbeat.

She’s already typing again.

[LydieLIVE ? TripsterGuy]: I’m gonna send you something after the stream. Be nice to me and I’ll make it worth your while.

My teeth clench.

Patrick jokes about something, but I’m not listening anymore.

I watch Lydia push into the next point, no hesitation. Confident. Sharp. She isn’t just sexy, she’s fucking good. Strategic. Quick. Wild and smart.

I’d played with thousands of people. No one has ever felt like this.

The rhythm of it. The pull.

She doesn’t feel like a stranger anymore.

We finish the session strong, two wins, one narrow loss. She thanks her chat, and the party starts to disband.

Patrick’s voice chimes in one last time.

“Good games, Trip. You’re solid.”

“Yeah,” I say, short.

“Lyd, text me later.”

The way he says it makes something cold twist in my gut.

She doesn’t answer him right away, just laughs. Then awkwardly says, “You know it.”

“Trip?” she says, soft and low in my headset. “I’ll message you soon. Don’t ghost me.”

“Never, killstreak.”

My screen dims. Party empty.

Then my phone buzzes.

[Snap from lydie.live]

The preview shows nothing but skin.

Fuck.