Page 36 of The Colour of Revenge
Each file I open fuels the rage simmering inside me.
I force myself to move. To act.
My hands shake as I plug in the memory stick. The files begin to transfer, the loading bar creeping forward tortiously.
Five minutes.
I stay perfectly still, every muscle locked, ears straining for the slightest sound.
One minute left.
Footsteps.
Shit.
They’re closer now, purposeful, heading straight for the office. My chest tightens, panic clawing at my resolve. My eyes dart between the door, the loading bar, and the balcony.
Come on. Come on.
The footsteps stop outside the door.
The loading bar completes.
I yank the memory stick free, snap the laptop shut, and slip toward the balcony. The curtain falls into place just as the door creaks open.
Holding my breath, I grip the trellis and lower myself with agonising care. The night swallows me whole as I drop to the ground, my landing muffled by soft earth.
I don’t look back.
My prize is in hand.
And Robert’s reckoning has begun.
Now, it’s time to destroy him.
10
Gratitude Has Its Limits
Hypothetical Question: Never be able to smell again, or only be able to smell garlic?
Nate
“Yougottastopsmilingdown at your phone like a loon.” Kai’s voice distracts me from focusing on Carina and her dumb questions. We always ask at least one per day. They might have been my idea, but she’s just as into it as I am.
“I can’t help it,” I groan, running a hand through my hair as I glance back at the laptop screen before me. The quarterly report for Haven is glaringly incomplete, its numbers mocking me with their emptiness.
“Yeah, well, the grant committee probably doesn’t give a shit about whether you’d rather fight a hundred duck-sized horses or one horse-sized duck,” Kai mutters, shoving a stack of papers toward me. “These cases need approval. Today. Or we lose funding for the new shelter.”
I sigh, set my phone down—face-up, just in case Carina texts back—and lean forwards. The file titles blur together: emergency housing requests, funding allocations, and therapy initiatives.
“You know this is important, right?” Kai prods, his tone serious now. “You’re the one who wanted Haven to grow. You don’t get to slack off because some girl has you all...” He waves a hand in the air, searching for the right word.
“Whipped?” I offer dryly, laughing as I pick up a file.
Kai snorts. “Distracted. But hey, if the shoe fits.” He shrugs, smirking at me.
As he walks away, muttering something about needing a new best friend, I force myself to focus. Carina can wait. The women depending on this funding? They can’t.
