Avenged, by MissMishka

DISCLAIMER: The usual warnings, I claim no ownership of these characters, they are simply borrowed with love and adoration from the original creators to have their stories, thoughts or circumstances embellished on a little more than the original format had done. Not for any profit.

The scope of Jones' proposition had seemed impossible.

The time and forethought involved, all the little pieces.

It boggled.

Naomi hadn't really believed it could work, but the fire in the other girl's eyes had convinced her to go along.

To try.

Men would never seem to learn that a woman was not to be scorned or trifled with and Derrick Webb had clearly trifled with the wrong one.

Cathy Jones was a good person. Well intentioned, thoughtful and smart. When that kind of mind turned vicious, the consequence was astounding.

Naomi hadn't had it in her back then to feel such fire for payback. Her body had been bruised, spirit broken by the violation of that gorgeous boy who had seemed to love her so. Anger had been the primary emotion among her family, a fury to do damage to any who dared think, let alone actually do, harm to one of their elite.

But she had sensed their shame and felt it herself, as the split in her lip had healed and the bruises had faded. Evidence that she had fought and not wanted that loss of virginity to her high school sweetheart and that proof had been needed in the face of their doubt.

Even with the years that had passed, she still sensed that niggle of doubt that even her father felt when anyone cared to think of that time or Derrick Webb's place in it.

No one would ever doubt what had happened that night again and Naomi owed Jones a debt for having given her this.

The footage looped, over and over.

"I raped Naomi."

She didn't flinch at the confession, didn't sink back into the memory of that night years ago and the darkness it had stained her with.

Hearing him admit it, practically yell it from the rooftops after all his bullshit smiles and glib denials?


All the hours spent in therapy, dollars spent on alcohol and pills, had been a waste. They had never achieved within her the recovery she felt now, all from one simply complicated plan.

Power and strength soared through her veins like a narcotic as she moved down the staircase and relished the disbelief twisting those stunning features.

Derrick Webb had been and would always be, a pretty pretty boy. With the ugliest soul she had ever encountered.

He had raped her and he had enjoyed it.

Part of her wanted to pick up the gun that had been used to shoot Jones, but it was only a prop Travis had gotten from some drama majors. Not to mention, this end was far better for the likes of him than a bullet.

If her silent suffering after his assault back then had ruined his life, then this scene was effectively ending it.

He had admitted his guilt and she loved it.

Striding with pride and confidence from the loft, she didn't know what would come next.

She felt a pang of regret for the possibilities with Beau that had been destroyed in all of this.

Despite their coming together to work on the revenge scheme, there was no taking them back to before the first rumor began. There was no future in a relationship where that kind of doubt could ever take root, let alone grow.

A small part of her wondered if she would always see in men a twisted desire for them to make her a victim, but she stepped out on to the wet pavement and swore she'd never be a victim again.

And if the worst should happen that someone did get the upper hand with her, Naomi had Jones' phone number and would not hesitate to use it.