by Gina Whitney
Cam and I both enjoyed that fleeting moment of levity. We didn’t dwell on it and immediately went about our search for evidence against Sig. As Cam set up the DVD player, I tried to figure out the password to Sig’s computer. I tried about twenty different combinations and started to accidentally repeat them. Deciding to write the failed combinations on a piece of paper to keep track, I opened one of Sig’s unused leather-bound notebooks and reached for a gold pen. Due to my nervousness, my clumsy hand knocked the pen to the floor. As I went to retrieve it, I discovered a series of passwords taped to the underside of Sig’s desk. All of them were crossed out except the last one. I reasoned that it was his current password and typed it in. The computer sprang to life.
At the same time, Cam started the DVD. He stood back with his arms folded as he watched the first grainy images appear. I could see him squinting as he tried to figure out what was going on. It was becoming obvious that two people were having sex.
I watched, too, and cocked my head to the side as the image displayed sodomy. “So Z is some kind of porn star?” I asked.
Then the screen cleared up a bit more. I saw that one of the two people on the video was Sig. He was the top.
“That asshole was fucking around on me after all.”
However, the horror I felt was intensified when the identity of the other person was revealed. Z, it turned out, was at most a fourteen-year-old Thai boy. My breathing stopped, and I felt my brain about to explode. I cramped with actual physical pain as I watched Sig violate this boy’s body. Disgusted, Cam quickly turned off the DVD. He was as stupefied as I was.
“What the shit was that?” he asked as if he had just come back from a demonic alternate universe.
I looked back over at the computer. The screen was filled with everyday poses and sickening sexual images of Z. I investigated more and found hundreds of hours of chat logs between Sig and the boy. Apparently Sig was very much in love with him. If it were not so perverted and had been between two consenting adults, those same messages would have been incredibly romantic.
In light of my discovery, strange things regarding Sig and me started to make sense. I now understood why he wanted me to be so thin. It had nothing to do with modeling or his idea of a trophy girlfriend. Sig’s obsession with my thinness had to do with his desire for me to look like a prepubescent boy. Also, the chat log and DVD explained why Sig only wanted to fuck me from behind. Sick bastard.
The irony of the situation did not escape me. My father, my tormentor, was also a pedophile. And here I was attaching myself to another one. Looking back, all the men I had been involved with had had a negative aspect of my father.
Boy, did I know how to pick them.
Sig just happened to be the composite of all that was shitty about my father. With him, I had tried to fix and reconcile my past, and had gotten nothing but more agony instead. However, I had broken part of the chain with Cam. I now had a man who was decent, kind, and a protector. Was I finally done with my past? That was the question I still had to answer.
“That explains it all,” Cam said.
“Explains what?” I was trying not to vomit in response to what I had just seen.
“Why Sig didn’t want to see Z harmed. Z was blackmailing Sig and wanted a tremendous amount of money to keep quiet about their relationship. Sig’s normal way to deal with difficult people is to dispose of them. He could have had Z murdered at any time, especially in Thailand, but he chose not to. Instead, he wanted to support the boy and protect himself at the same time. That’s why I was brought in to create a false financial paper trail just in case things didn’t work out.”
I rubbed my stomach, craving an antacid. “I think we have what we need, but we can’t go to the cops. So where do we go?”
Cam already had the answer. “I know exactly who to take this shit to.”
We gathered up the evidence and headed back to New York City. The back road taking us into town was clear of traffic. I felt somewhat relieved as I gripped Cam tightly around his waist. As the chilly wind whipped around us, I thought I was on the precipice of heaven. I would enter its gates as soon as we exposed Sig. However, the anticipation of a joyous future did not last long.
A grim, shadowy SUV with blacked-out windows was approaching us from the opposite direction. Cam did not seem concerned; he just throttled his bike. As we closed in on the SUV, it suddenly veered into our lane and was mere inches from hitting us head on. Cam swerved sharply off the road and barely missed a tree. I almost fell off the bike as it plowed through the rough terrain. Cam tried to put us back on the road due to the massive amounts of trees and brush in the forest. The motorcycle hit the asphalt violently. Cam almost lost control but quickly regained it. We took off at full speed down the hilly, curvy road. The SUV made a U-turn and promptly chased us down.
The passengers in the SUV pulled out Uzis and fired bursts of lead at us from both sides. One of these men was Xander. I ducked as I heard bullets whizzing past my head. Cam kept swerving in and out of lanes, making sure we would not be static targets.
The shooting wasn’t killing Cam and me fast enough, so the driver floored the vehicle. He caught up to us and tried to ram the back of the motorcycle. After some successful evading on Cam’s part, the SUV eventually tapped the back of the bike slightly and almost caused us to lose control a few times. I looked over Cam’s shoulder and saw that we were approaching the most dangerous curve on the road. If they hit us there, Cam and I would most certainly die.
There was also black ice ahead that none of us was aware of. The SUV attempted to ram the bike once more, but Cam shifted over just in time. Unknowingly, he had missed the black ice. However, the SUV did not.
It hit the black ice and slid hard as the driver overcorrected. The SUV flipped and rolled into a thick bank of trees. After buckling like a can of sardines, it caught on fire. Cam drove us to a safe enough distance and skidded to a stop. I looked back as the SUV exploded into a massive fire ball. I could see Xander writhing in agony as broken bones jutted out of his skin and the fire burned him alive. As he died, his eyes were fixated on me. I was glad that I was the last thing he saw before he went to hell. Even though it might have been morbid, that put a big smile on my face.
Cam did not want to waste more time contemplating the bonfire and got us to New York City at warp speed. As we made our way through traffic, I wondered who he was going to give the evidence to. We finally ended up at New York’s most popular television network—but of course there was no parking on the crowded street. Cam was in such a rush that he hopped the bike on the sidewalk and drove through a legion of shocked pedestrians. We parked right in front of the doorman, and Cam threw him the keys.
“Handle that,” he said to the incredulous doorman. The guy got over his surprise, shrugged his shoulders, and proceeded to drive Cam’s motorcycle to whatever parking garage he could find.
Cam and I ran through the network’s lobby and happened to see the most famous and adored evening news anchor, Lucy Watts. We ran up to her like a couple of kooks.
“Ms. Watts, we’ve got something you have to see,” Cam said.
I could tell that she was about to have security pounce all over us. However, she stopped when she recognized me. The opportunist in Ms. Watts took over, and she was all of a sudden eager to talk.
“I cannot believe Lilly Amsel is standing in front of me. Did you know I’ve been trying to get an interview with you for years? Don’t take that the wrong way. I’ve always been a personal fan of your work, Ms. Amsel. Or should I say Mrs. Krok?”
My bullshit detector was singing. I knew that she was just like the rest of them, only interested in me because of Sig. But if Cam thought this lady could help us fuck Sig, I could tolerate her for at least a little while.
“Call me Ms. Amsel. I’ll never be Mrs. Krok. After you see this, you’ll understand why.”
Ms. Watts took the DVD I held out. Her mouth salivated at the thought of an exclusive about Sig and me. She r
ushed us into her dressing room like a desperate car salesman protecting his claim over a potential buyer.
Striped pink and magenta, her frilly dressing room was more fit for a movie star than a newscaster. A white shag carpet and gargantuan flower arrangements made it feel somewhat claustrophobic. I noticed that Cam was having a terribly difficult time finding a comfortable place to sit on the couch, which was smothered with large accent pillows. Ms. Watts had specialty tea already brewing and took out dainty cups.
“Would you care for some tea? I got it when I was on assignment in Japan.” She was trying to pull an Oprah, loosening us up in an effort to make sure we spilled all of Sig’s secrets.
“We really want you to see the DVD,” I said. The more time we chatted about Japanese tea, the more time Sig had to cover his tracks.
“I was just being polite,” Ms. Watts said as she examined the DVD. “What is it? The story of the century?”
“Maybe,” Cam responded.
“That’s what they all say,” she responded before casually popping in the DVD.
At first Ms. Watts sweetly sipped her tea. However, Cam and I both watched as her face started to twist.
“What is this? Is that Sig Krok and a young boy? It can’t be,” she said as a tear trickled down her cheek. Ms. Watts was not crying only because she witnessed a child being raped but because her fantasy about Sig and me had been obliterated. I felt so guilty about what I had just done to her. I forced her eyes to see a horror that no one should be exposed to. She would never be the same after that. But it had to be done.
“This goes on tonight,” she announced as she wiped her mascara-blurred eyes.
Cam and I holed up at a hotel in Midtown and sustained ourselves with a buffet of Chinese takeout. As chopsticks entered our hungry mouths, we watched the six o’clock news. The lead story was about Sig, presented by Lucy Watts.
It didn’t take long for the entire world to react with utter revulsion. However, Cam and I celebrated as we tapped egg rolls like they were champagne goblets, knowing we had done a good job.
Not to mention that my pussy became Cam’s fortune cookie later on that night. He cracked it open and ate it ferociously. His fortune read: I am yours forever.
Chapter Twenty-Two
I stood in front of the mirror in the new apartment I shared with Cam, looking at how I had changed during the past twelve months. There were no bruises to hide or broken bones to set. I noticed that my reflection was softer, not as hard and sharp as it had been when I lived with Sig.
There was a question I had asked myself long ago. Was I finally done with my past? The answer was yes. I was done with all that shit. I smiled, proud of the woman I now was. The memory of my father was an ancient blur. Some days it was like he’d never existed. Also, I no longer gave a fuck what other people thought about me. Shit, they had to worry about what I thought about them. As for the pills, I had no desire for them.
I thought back to a year ago today. Back then Sig was hiding in a closet at the mansion when national and Interpol police found him. I could not believe it. His dumb ass actually hid in a closet. How appropriate. Needless to say the Klå empire crumbled in light of its child-labor violations and Sig’s pedophilia. Sig was now in prison and had to be sequestered in solitary confinement because of the endless beatings and ass raping he received on a daily basis.
The principals at Wotherspoon and Associates went to prison, too, along with Chief Pepperdine. It was absolutely hilarious to watch them rat each other out like little bitches. Hopefully, they were being ass fucked too.
Jacob had no one to back his modeling dreams and wound up back in Idaho. The last I heard, he was downgraded to doing the occasional fashion show at a local strip mall. However, he had to retire when he’d gained fifty pounds.
Cam eventually had to put a restraining order on Rebecca. She just could not accept the fact that he had dismissed her. But hardcore love never just goes away. That’s why when Cam and I were out and about, I sometimes got the heebie jeebies. I sensed Rebecca was always close by. Cam believed it was all just my imagination, but I knew she was still prowling around in the dark.
I was tainted by Sig’s sick escapades for a few months. It was difficult for the public to disassociate me from his image since that’s what I had built my career and life on. The media scrutiny and notoriety made it impossible for me to procure modeling assignments. But that didn’t matter to me so much. After all, I was only using modeling to ingratiate myself with powerful people and receive validation through my looks. Those same people that I pursued quickly turned their backs on me after the scandal—all except Tamara. In addition to Cam, she became a source of strength for me. I don’t know what I would have done without her constant support.
My healing took place, and I was able to throw away my crutch called professional modeling. I now taught troubled girls etiquette, which I learned while living among the elite. I taught them a little modeling, too, but I also mentored them on developing self-esteem. I never wanted to see another young woman end up like I did.
Cam left the ruthless world of corporate law behind him and became a child-advocate lawyer instead. It made him feel good to rescue children who were placed in the sometimes brutal foster care system. Through his diligence, many children found healthy, loving homes. I was so proud to call him my man.
After that contemplation of the past year and my new life, I stepped away from the mirror with satisfaction. I went to the closet at the back of my bathroom and pulled out my black lingerie and stiletto heels. I slipped on my thigh-high stockings, admiring my smooth skin. I seductively put on the rest of the sheer lingerie. My inner goddess had killed my alter ego, allowing me to have complete control over my sexual destiny.
I put on my stilettos then went to a small red box I had stashed in the cabinet. I opened it and pulled out a pair of handcuffs, studying the links as I dangled them on my index finger. It was time to play. I gave myself one more look in the mirror then traipsed into the bedroom with the handcuffs hidden behind my back.
Cam was on the edge of the bed leaning back, waiting for me. He was cool and self-assured as usual, ready to take full control of the situation. He looked divine sitting on the bed, and that made a part of me want him to take me. But I was the boss.
I revealed the handcuffs to Cam, letting them swing at my side teasingly. He knew I had decided to be the dominant one for a change and was taken aback. He was not used to being submissive. I gave him a naughty grin, and Cam decided to play along.
“You going to arrest me?” he asked.
I made my way over to Cam and forcibly handcuffed him then pushed him back and pulled off his pants. His gigantic cock had already sprung to attention. My love box’s automatic response would normally have been to sit on top of it. However, today I would not listen to anything that would make me lose command of the situation. I tantalized Cam’s dick with my tongue, letting him know who was in charge. Then my hot, wet mouth went all the way down on that big cock, giving it bites as I went back up. I made it hurt.
Cam didn’t know what to make of this. He was swamped with ultimate pleasure and pain. As he moaned, I stopped. I would make him beg for it.
“More, more,” he said huskily. He wanted to touch me but was hindered by the handcuffs.
I ran my tongue over him, sending torturous spasms of desire throughout his body. I gave him just enough to drive him crazy but not enough to satisfy. I hungrily watched Cam as my pussy got wetter and wetter. It excited me to see him in a submissive position for once. I temptingly pulled my panties down, exposing my shaved snatch. As Cam licked his lips, I could see that first little bead of cum leak out of the tip of his rod.
I climbed on top and lowered my pussy down over his hard shaft, slowly moving up and down. Cam struggled to grip my breasts but was once again impeded by the handcuffs. I reached back and stroked his balls as I confidently fucked him, exhilarated by being the chief of this sexual encounter. I didn’t need Cam to st
imulate my nipples. With my free hand, I did that for myself. Between fucking Cam and my auto-erotica, I came hard. I was inundated by multiple orgasms and was still cumming when Cam shot his load into me.
After I rolled off, I continued clenching and spasming for a few minutes. Consumed with my own bliss, I forgot that Cam was still handcuffed. He lifted up his wrists.
“Hey, Sheriff, what about me?”
“Oh, yeah. You’ve been bailed out,” I said as I retrieved the key from the bathroom. I released Cam, and he invited me to snuggle in his arms. I was proud of myself for taking charge. I would never have done that a year ago.
Would I go through all that hell again? That goes without saying. I would go through a thousand hells and more to have Cam by my side.
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