Page 6 of Cyber Revenge

SIX

PATRICK

S he called me sunshine in a text once.

I’d just sent her a good morning message, one of many, part of the Top Tier Sub perks on her private account. A daily stream of attention, flirtation, and the occasional risqué pic if she was in the mood.

“Morning sunshine ,” she’d replied.

And just like that, she was mine for the day.

Lydia doesn’t know it yet, but she likes being owned. Not in the way creeps try to do it. Not the trolls in her chat who bark and bitch and tell her to smile more. No, she wants something smoother. Cleaner. A touch of velvet before the blade.

I’m the velvet.

And soon enough, I’d be the blade, too.

We play Faceoff Moshpit on Pit , a map that runs through caves in Russia, dark, small, lit by flickering power grids and rickety skylights.

Lydia runs point, pushing the front. Trip flanks left. I cover from above, pinging enemies and calling routes like I’d written the fucking strategy guide.

She’s laughing. High from the pace, from the rhythm of three people who actually know how to play.

“You guys are my favorite team,” she says over comms.

Trip grunted a “thanks.”

I smile into the mic. “We’re your favorites because we actually know how to handle you.”

She snorts. “You wish.”

[Text to Lydia – 10:08 PM]: You were moaning into your mic again. You know what that does to me.

[Lydia – 10:10 PM]: Not my fault I’m just naturally talented at sounding like a porn ad.

[Patrick – 10:11 PM]: It’s a gift. You ever plan to use it on someone real?

[Lydia – 10:12 PM]: Real people are exhausting.

That makes me grin.

We ran Kill Confirmed on Warhead . She and Trip have this weird rhythm going now; he covers her flank too much. Hovers near her player like he’s glued there.

It bugs me more than I expect.

I make sure to pull her attention back.

“Lyd, run with me this time,” I say casually. “Let’s see if I can carry your thick ass.”

She laughs. “Wow, okay.”

Trip doesn’t say anything. But his character doesn’t move until I peel away with her.

[Text to Lydia – 11:22 PM]: I like hearing you laugh when it’s just me. You get quieter around him.

[Lydia – 11:24 PM]: I do not.

[Patrick – 11:24 PM]: Not complaining. Just... something I noticed. You act differently when it’s just us.

[Lydia – 11:25 PM]: Maybe I do.

That’s right, baby. Let it sit. Let it swirl.

We play Kill Confirmed on Derelict , a medium-sized map, with lots of chaos. Perfect distraction.

Trip and I keep locking horns now. Not in a full-blown way, but little things.

He pings a route, I ping a different one.

He tells her to fall back, and I tell her to push forward.

She hesitates between us more than once.

It gives me ideas.

I text her after the stream ends, once she’s off mic, vulnerable.

[Patrick – 12:02 AM]: Trip’s not bad. But he’s really protective of you, huh?

[Lydia – 12:03 AM]: I guess. I like playing with him, though.

[Patrick – 12:04 AM]: Yeah. I just hope you’re careful. Guys like that usually want something. The quiet ones always do.

Silence.

She doesn’t reply right away.

That’s fine.

I don’t need her to respond. I just need her to think about it.

She texts me the next morning with a photo, cropped below her lips, cleavage spilling out of an oversized hoodie. Eyes not included. But the smile in her caption was all mine.

“You gonna play nice tonight, sunshine?”

I stare at the screen, smiling.

Oh, sweetheart.

I always play nice.

Until I don’t.