Song ~ Look what you made me do - Taylor Swift

"Get your jacket off and give it to Dani. Helmet, too."

Jasper's head tilted as he narrowed his eyes at Roman.

"You need to watch the house, and Dani needs to be invisible. We need to move now before Noah returns to the house or the cops become involved. Go to the end of the street, stay in the shadows, and watch the house. Ring me if they leave. I'll message you when we're done."

Jasper gave me his jacket and helmet. His scarf was wrapped around his head and over his mouth, forming a cover to hide his features.

With a nod, Jasper climbed on his scooter and moved to the other end of the block.

"Climb on."

I looked at Roman, wondering if I'd gone mad in the water. Maybe consuming too much of it had affected my mind. Was I seriously considering getting on the back of a motorcycle with a complete stranger? We'll forget that Jasper knows him for a minute and just consider the actual bare bones of this situation. I did not know Roman. He was dark and broody, looking at me like I was some rare creature. When I told them what I wanted to do, I thought Jasper would take me like he'd done earlier. Then, it was pointed out that his little blue scooter was incredibly noticeable with its dings and museum stickers, whereas Roman's black bike was one of many in this city. It was a fair point, which I accepted, even if it didn't make this any easier. I still had to go somewhere with a man I didn't know.

There was no easy answer to this, but I knew that if I wanted to achieve my goal with this plan, I had to accept that this was how it had to happen. Returning to my home quickly would be done on the back of this motorcycle with this strange man.

"Do you know where I live?"

"Yes. What's the security like?"

"There's a movement-activated camera in the doorbell, but that's it. The back door would be a better entry point."

Climbing onto the back of the bike, I took a deep breath in. This was going to be okay. A night of firsts. My husband tried to kill me. I could only assume that this was the first attempt, but to be sure, I'd have to think about it. Catching my husband cheating on me, that was a first and one that I hoped would never happen again. To be fair, I don't think marriage will be in my future, at least not for a long time. Getting on the back of a motorcycle was definitely a first.

"You can grip the back or wrap your arms around me. Either way is fine, whatever you're comfortable with."

I nodded, gripping his jacket. There wasn't much of a grip behind me, and it felt like I wasn't balanced correctly.

Roman sped through the streets, zipping between cars and barely making it through lights that were changing. I winced, closing my eyes as my grip around his waist tightened.

When we reached the back alley between two rows of terraced houses, Roman stopped across the road. Trees loomed overhead, shading us from the street lights.

"Are you coming with me?"

"How about I move to the front and watch the door? I'll rev the engine loudly and ride up the street if something happens. Go that way, and I'll swing back around to get you. Keep the helmet on in case there are cameras around the neighbourhood."

"Okay."

"Don't take too long."

I climbed off the bike, and Roman grabbed my forearm.

"Hey, if there's anything like a computer he uses for work, grab it."

I frowned, which was pointless, considering I was still wearing the helmet.

"Why?"

"Those reasons. Hurry up."

I was dubious, wondering what kind of mess Jasper had gotten himself into. I didn't want to be a part of whatever nonsense this would create, but I desperately wanted to destroy Noah's world. It was a fine line between the two, and I could see them easily blurring into each other.

Racing to the back door, I retrieved the spare key from under the rock in the garden, returning it once the door was open.

Nothing was out of place. It was like I hadn't been attacked in my home, knocked out, and abducted. I couldn't stop and think about it right now. The grieving process would happen later. For now, angry Dani was running the show. She would get the job done, and she would do an incredible job.

Rushing to the next floor, I looked around the bedroom. I knew that if I took my clothes, the cops would say I left of my own free will, which was not what I wanted.

In all honesty, I didn't know what I wanted in that respect. Getting the cops involved would create issues, but I wanted to make Noah suffer. I wanted the world to point their accusatory finger at him and call him a wife killer. Because that's what he was.

Rushing to the walk-in robe, I grabbed my gym bag, emptied it, and stuffed a few of my favourite clothes, the sentimental objects, as well as the essentials. It was enough to cover me for the future but not be obvious that I'd taken anything.

Entering the study, I flicked through the drawer. It was full of paid bills and nothing worthwhile. The laptop, though, was a different story. Pulling the cords, I stuffed them into the bag with the computer. As I stuffed it into the bag, I realised the cops would watch everything, including my bank account. I knew Noah had a safe, and as I opened the cupboard door and knelt in front of it, I prayed it had something I could use until everything passed.

Noah was a smart boy, but he was terrible with number sequences, which meant that anything important was easily remembered. And that's why after pressing one-two-three-four, I was in the safe.

"You are so predictable."

And clearly, an idiot.

Pushing open the door, I was quietly surprised. It was full of cash, our passports, and a couple of books. I took everything, including the books, knowing that if Noah put them in the safe, then it meant that they were either important or he didn't want me to find them.

When I returned to the first floor, I looked around the picture-perfect living room. It didn't look like a crime scene. It wasn't good enough. Dumping the bag at the back door, I picked up the mop and began swinging it through everything that would break easily. Walls had long gouge lines in them, and holes were rammed into the ceiling as I walked towards the living area.

Glass smashed as photo frames dropped to the wooden floors. Ramming the end of the mop into the glass cabinet, I ensured everything was broken. The trinkets and ornaments, the panels of the cabinet, all in shattered pieces.

The television mounted to the wall now had a handle-sized hole in the centre with splintered lines cracked in all directions. Noah's precious game consoles were swept to the ground and then impaled, almost like someone was trying to stab her killer husband. The cabinet and coffee table were not forgotten, taking my wrath with stubborn resistance. They were solid wood, making it a little difficult to destroy them. Given how angry I was, it was me that won. Defiance matched with dogged determination.

Entering the kitchen, I pulled a carving knife from the block and returned to the lounge room. The blade sliced through the material, opening it to the wadding underneath. With great delight, I pulled all of it out and tossed it across the room. Done destroying the lounge, I picked up the mop handle and returned to the kitchen. Every single cabinet, the oven, and the microwave were destroyed. Glass littered the tiled floor, but I was not done. Opening the fridge door, I rammed the handle in and pulled everything out, ensuring I damaged the shelves. They weren't easily broken, but I did what I could.

Standing at the entry of the kitchen, I surveyed the damage. It wasn't enough, not when the floor above me had not been touched. Taking the condiments that had survived my wrath, I continued to the next level and dumped them on the floor.

My first point of attack was the desk. It smashed into thousands of pieces, raining down on the floor like a glittering storm. Leaving the room, I dumped the mop and picked up the condiments. All of his clothes were dumped on the floor into a large pile and then coated in everything in the bottles.

The bathroom didn't miss out on my loving attention. Anything that could be broken was destroyed. Linen was pulled from the cupboard, and holes were put into the walls. I wanted to destroy every little thing that was our life in this house. It was a house of lies.

The last room for this level was the bedroom. It received the same level of care as every other room in this place. When I was done, I returned to the ground floor and looked around. It was then that I became grateful for an end unit and a neighbour who perpetually went on holiday once it started to get cold. But as my gaze swung around the mess, I came to the realisation that I wasn't done, mostly because I missed a wall. It was like I'd left it intentionally.

As I looked at my blank canvas, I knew there was one final part to this masterpiece.

Using the end of the mop handle, I scratched Wife Killer into the drywall. There was no way he could fix that in a hurry. It was big, and it was deep. The letters were huge.

Finally done, I walked to the mud room and rammed the mop into the washing machine. Everything had been attacked. Nothing escaped my anger.

I looked around. My view from the mud room was limited, but I could see the damage my anger caused. My hurt. My suffering. Tears rolled down my cheeks, quickly soaked by the padding in the helmet. It would hide my pain and my identity. As for fingerprints, it didn't really matter when this was my home.

Was.

No more. It was gone, just like my life.

I walked to the back door, collected my bag, and left my former life behind. Walking to the end of the street, I watched as Roman turned the bike around and moved to pick me up.

"I heard glass smashing." He said, more interested in messaging Jasper. "You wouldn't know anything about that, would you?"

"Nope."

Roman chuckled as I climbed on the back of his bike. With the bag strap wrapped across my body, I held on to Roman. The phone was tucked back into his jacket, and with a rev of the engine, we delved into the darkness of the shadowy streets.

I couldn't predict the future, but I'd happily destroy everything that had once been perfect in my world, and if Roman and Jasper were a part of that, then that would be just fine.

As for my revenge, well, I'd only just started to make Noah suffer. I don't know what Jasper and Roman were up to, but it was clear that my now ex-husband was central to everything. I wanted to know what was going on and what I hadn't seen. My eyes had been closed for a long time, but now they were open. Now, they would see everything.

Noah wanted me dead. Well, I was happy to oblige him with that demand. Danika Jordan was no more. Dani Kennedy, though, was hungry for revenge. She will make Noah regret the day that he decided to steal her life.