by Paige North
I just wish I were actually having more fun.
“All right,” Mom says. “Because lately, you’ve been…”
“I know, Mom.”
Mom, Dad, and my older sister Lacey who doesn’t even live at home, noticed the funk I’ve been in. Right up until I returned to college several days ago they kept wanting to know what’s going on with me, but I kept making excuses, continuing to lick my wounds and keeping matters to myself.
They’d never understand everything I’ve been through anyway.
Mom doesn’t bludgeon me with questions. She knows that won’t help, so she chats about the Thanksgiving plans she’s already making. It doesn’t matter that the holidays are months away—she’s an orchestrator, and both sets of my grandparents will be visiting. She’s calling to confirm that I won’t be taking off during the break to go skiing or snowboarding. It’s her way of saying I’d better be there.
As I assure her I will be, I grab my backpack and start walking to my class on a quieter side of campus. I’m relieved to have my mind taken off Cage with Mom’s light chatter about trying to bake mincemeat pie this year, and after we hang up and I put my phone away, I’m in a slightly better mood. But as I get to the building where my class is held, I feel the skin on the back of my neck prickle. I feel someone following me.
I whip around, jumping back when I see a haggard, strung-out guy with greasy blond hair and reddened eyes. He’s wearing a rumpled button down and trousers.
“Hey, Karini,” Liam says.
I stumble backward into a dim hallway, and he follows me. Too late, I realize there’s no one else around.
My back hits a wall, and I start fumbling in my pack for my phone.
“Oh, come on,” he says. “If you call anyone you’ll be in even bigger fucking trouble than you already are. Just listen to me, you dumb twat.”
His tone of voice makes me freeze, ice-cold, terrified.
“But I gave you money,” I said.
“Yeah, and it wasn’t enough. And I knew that texting and calling you wasn’t gonna do any good. Last time you took for-fucking-ever.”
“It was a lot of money, Liam!”
“I know you can get more. I’ll bet your parents still live in that nice house.”
He smells as if he hasn’t showered in days, and I try not to gag on the stench. I can’t believe I ever saw anything in him, although this wasn’t the guy I first met. Not remotely.
I ask, “Did you already spend what I gave you”
From the look on his face, I get my answer.
“How could you spend it so fast?” I whisper.
He lets out an exasperated sigh, as if I’m wasting his precious time. One of his hands fidgets with his trousers, plucking at them. “Shut up. It’s not your business what I use the money for.”
But I can take an educated guess—all of the cash is gone, and his addiction is growing exponentially.
As I stare into his reddened eyes, a realization hits me hard: This harassment is never going to end. He’s always going to hold those pictures and videos over me. He’s never going to cut me loose…
Cornered, I feel anger rage through me. I’ve been way too easy on him, and I’m so damned sick of being afraid.
I hear voices outside the hallway. That, plus my rage, gives me the courage to push off of the wall.
No more cowering. No more trying to stop him from doing what he intends to do, because it’s useless.
“Listen closely, Liam,” I say as the voices outside come closer to the hallway. “I’m not paying you another dime, and I expect you to honor the agreement we already had. No doxing. No exploiting me.”
“Or what?”
There’s laughter outside the hallway now, and I should just run to whoever it is, report Liam to someone. But who? And is it possible that he would be able to release the pictures before he could be punished, even if it’s just to spite me?
But the look on his face pauses my panic: He’s stunned that I, the timid girl who couldn’t believe a guy like him would pay attention to her, is actually talking back to him.
He clenches his teeth, speaking through them. “You’re not only a stupid fuck, but you’re a little prude. I never should have wasted my time on you.”
Then he leaves before I can tell him that Cage Bryant sure didn’t think so, but I leave it at that. He can’t bait me anymore.
But have I pushed him into releasing those pictures, just because he can?
I quickly run to where I hear the voices outside the hallway. A few students go into a classroom, leaving everything around me empty.
Liam is even gone, but as the seconds pass, I realize that he could be around any of these corners. He isn’t really gone at all.
What have I done?
Somehow I sit through recreational math class, but I don’t hear a thing my instructor says. I go back to the apartment that I’m sharing with my two roomies, Victoria and Corrine, only to remember that they said something about going to a barbecue for a service club they want to join. This leaves me all alone with my horrific thoughts as I sit in front of my computer, scared to death to turn it on to see if Liam has carried through with his threats.
But I’m going to face this. I don’t have any other choice.
I surf the web, knowing it’s probably too early to find anything, but I don’t stop. I skip dinner in my anxiety, watch a movie online while checking the rest of the net in a small screen window, and I pray that the doxing won’t actually happen.
The sun sets through my room’s window, turning the mountain-studded horizon darker hour by hour, and finally, a text appears on my computer with a sharp ding.
Payback is a bitch…bitch.
Right below that are some links, and with my stomach churning, I access them.
Horror clouds my mind when I see where they lead, and when I find my pictures and videos spread all over the place, my stomach lurches.
I’m now the star on a porn site visited by millions and millions of people.
Chapter 21
I run to the bathroom and vomit, and when I’m done, I cling to the toilet, crying uncontrollably.
With those pictures and videos out there, my life is over. My family, friends, and everyone else in the whole world are going to laugh at me and shun me.
Nowhere to hide now…
Then it hits me that Cage is also going to see everything.
A totally irrational emotion overwhelms me—bitterness. Will he believe that Liam was blackmailing me now? Will he feel like a jackass because he doubted me when I told him about it?
But the bitterness makes me choke, both because it’s wrong and because I’m literally tasting my bile as I drag myself from the toilet to my sink. I’m still sobbing, but it’s not only because of the porn site now. At some point, Igor Vasiliev will become aware that I, the budding porn star, am the same woman in the society column pictures with Cage.
I was a part of the lie that got Cage the deal with him.
Will he stop doing business with Bryant Industries because of me?
I run the water in the sink, rinsing out my mouth, slumped over the counter while my weeping intensifies.
What the hell do I do now that the damage is done? I can’t call Cage to apologize. And I sure can’t call my friends who have no idea what I was doing over the summer.
The only person I can think to contact is my sister Lacey, who isn’t so perfect herself. Once upon a time, she went through a rough relationship with a man who turned out to be married, and even through her grief and mortification, I was there for her, never judging, only comforting.
But this isn’t even on the level of what she went through. This is a worldwide freak show compared to her private, honest mistake.
I stay in that bathroom for a long time. An hour? More? I’m not sure, but with every minute that passes, I know that I need to do something, and maybe I can trust Lacey to not only confide in but to give me some advice.
Boy, do I need
some advice…
I don’t know if I can calm myself down enough to make a phone call, so I text her on my computer instead.
Lacey, I need to show you something. I am SCREWED.
She answers right away.
What’s wrong, Kar? Whatever it is, we can work it out.
See? I’ve made the right choice with her, and I gulp away the thick saliva in my throat and type faster.
Promise you won’t tell?
Promise.
I exhale then take the harrowing dive.
A guy posted pics of me to a porn site.
I include the links and hold my breath, waiting for her to freak out.
She doesn’t for a few minutes, and every ticking second knocks away at the strength I thought I had.
When my phone rings with Lacey’s delicate music box ringtone, I startle. It sounds like a warped horror movie soundtrack to me, and I’m dreading what will happen if I answer.
But I have to.
“Lacey?” I sob.
“Hah hah, Karini,” she says. “This is really funny. What kind of sick joke are you playing?”
“I don’t understand. It’s not funny.”
She continues. “My mind is never going to recover from those pictures of all the panting people going at it with each other on that site. Voyeurism so isn’t my scene.”
Is she joking?
I’m too stunned to cry now. “I said those things because they’re true, Lacey. Did you actually click on the links I gave you?”
“Of course. At first. Then I couldn’t help looking around at the rest until I wanted to gag.”
“Try those links again.”
There’s silence, and I’m pretty sure Lacey is doing what I asked.
“Nope,” she says. “The links themselves don’t work. Don’t you think the joke’s getting old, Kar?”
“Wait. Tell me what you mean by ‘they don’t work.’”
“All they do is lead to pages that say ‘content unavailable.’”
What?
My pulse patters as I review my texts then click on the first link I sent to Lacey.
And my sister isn’t kidding. The links aren’t functioning.
My head spins. Maybe this is only temporary and life is playing its own sick joke on me by extending this nightmare. Or can it be that Liam sent me fake links to screw with me?
So why did they work when I first tried them?
“Karini?” Lacey asks.
I don’t know what to do, so I start to laugh.
“Karini!” she scolds. “This is so lame!” But she’s starting to laugh anyway, as if I’ve really pulled one over on her.
I go with it…at least for now.
“Gotcha,” I say.
“Wow, you had me going. Are you drinking or something? Because there is some warped stuff on there.”
As I wipe the last of the tears and snot from my face with a tissue, I try clicking on those links again and again, but each time, they don’t work.
Then I get angry, because Liam obviously did do something to mess with me. But if he thinks it’s going to get me to pay him more money, he’s sadly mistaken.
I collapse on my bed and sleep the sleep of the damned for the rest of the night. I wake up only a few times after having the same nightmare featuring my naked pictures flashing on the infamously massive Times Square marquee while Cage stands below it.
And, every time, his face is blank and emotionless until he turns his back on me.
I rise early and go straight to the computer, testing the links again.
Huh. They’re still not working, and Liam hasn’t texted or called me. Should I fall into his trap and text him to see what the hell he was trying to do?
I know that I’m not going to be able to get anything done with my class work or attend school itself unless I know.
What’s going on? The links don’t work.
I get a response right away—just not the one I expect.
Undelivered.
I check my reception, and it’s fine. This is beyond weird, so I suck it up and call Liam. But his number isn’t working either.
Puzzled, I emerge from my room to find my roommates in the kitchen. It looks like this is the last stop on the walk of shame for Victoria and Corrine, because they’re wearing clothes that look rumpled and they have bedheads. And they confirm everything by telling me about the hot guys they met at the barbecue and stayed with last night. It was a boinkapalooza.
Victoria offers me a fresh glazed donut and, hungry as hell, I take it.
Both of my roomies watch me wolf it down: Victoria with her big brown eyes, Corrine with her green ones.
“When’s the last time you had a meal?” Corrine asks.
It sure wasn’t last night, but I’m famished now, and I merely shrug at the question before thanking them. I want to tell them about Liam and how he just seems to have disappeared, but they go to their rooms to crash and get some sleep before their noon classes. Besides, I still can’t tell anyone else about my problems.
Besides Cage. Not that he matters now.
I get ready to go to a beginning ballet class I’m taking for kicks and credits. On the way, I look out for Liam on campus, just in case he lost his phone in a drug-induced stupor and decided to show up here to demand more money. But there’s no sight of him.
Could it be that somehow, some way he’s gone?
I make it through the rest of the day without any Liam sightings, and the night is just as safe. I indulge myself with sweet dreams of Cage, thinking of the best of times with him, and for once, I sleep soundly.
The next morning, I get a call from a friend I haven’t seen since I started dating Liam.
Theresa went her own way while I ran around with him because he just rubbed her the wrong way. I should’ve listened to her.
She barely says hi to me before she rushes into the reason she called.
“See, Karini, I knew Liam sucked!”
“What’re you talking about?”
“Girl, haven’t you heard the news? Good god, go online and check your local feed to see what’s up with that fool!”
I’m on it, and when I find a story about Liam, I read through it quickly, then sit back in my chair, going through the comments below the article, too. Some of them are very blunt pieces of information from Liam’s neighbors, and it seems they’re just as sick of his crap as I am.
The scoop is that, yesterday evening, police responded to a noise complaint at Liam’s apartment. They found him inside with a broken arm and it was clear he’d been beaten badly. His place was in ruins. The cops even found drugs everywhere.
“Surprised?” Theresa asks.
She has no idea what he put me through. No one but Cage knows, but I can’t help shaking my head and saying, “No. No surprise.”
“After I found out about this, I asked around and heard you two had broken up, so I had to call about this. Are you all right?”
“Yeah,” I say, still bewildered. “I’m…great.”
I smile. God help me, but I am. I have no idea what’s happening, yet it’s poetic.
Theresa sighs with what seems like relief. “That’s good to hear, Karini. I knew he’d turn out to be bad news, and obviously someone thought as little of him as I did. He sure got his ass kicked.”
“The article says that he refused to give the name of the person who assaulted him.”
“Yeah, I’m sure the police couldn’t care less. They found all that heroin, so they arrested him for intent to distribute. Did you know—?”
“That he was a drug dealer? No.” A user? Yes. An absolute piece of shit? For sure. But not a dealer.
As Theresa and I catch up, my mind untangles so many things, and my mood improves. Liam will be going away for a very long time because it seems he has a long record and prior convictions.
In spite of my blindness where he was concerned, this is such an awesome day.
I wish I could actually thank whoever beat hi
m up and turned the authorities on to his drugs. I even think…
No. It couldn’t be Cage. I mean, he didn’t believe my story about Liam in the first place. In the second place, he obviously doesn’t care about me or the guy who was almost my downfall.
But the suspicion won’t go away.
Throughout the rest of the day and into the night, my suspicion persists. Maybe my need to involve Cage in this is just wishful thinking though, and as I roll to my side in bed, I try to close my eyes and put him out of my mind.
No fantasies about him tonight. I’m back to that nightmare about him turning his back on me and…
My phone dings, and I groggily reach for it. When I look at the message, my heart stops, because unless my eyes deceive me, it’s from the one person I want to hear from, the one I can’t stop thinking about.
Cage.
And there’s only one word below his name in the text.
Outside.
Chapter 22
My pulse pounds through me so hard that I can’t catch my breath.
Outside, his text said.
Does that mean he’s really here?
I crash out of my bed and stumble to my window, swooshing aside the curtain, and…yes. There he is standing under a streetlight—Cage Bryant, his brown hair combed back, and he’s wearing a suit, and…
And he’s holding a large bouquet of flowers.
Am I dreaming again? But it must be a good dream this time, not a Times Square marquee nightmare in which Cage is turning his back on me as he did every time I thought we’d gotten intimate.
I press my fingertips against the windowpane, just to make sure everything is real.
Cage lowers the flowers as he sees me.
As a rush of warmth swamps me, I give a little cry of pure joy, and I stop thinking and wallowing. I stop telling myself that it’s actually a good thing Cage and I broke up, and then I’m running, running out of my room and bursting out the front door and taking the outside staircase, grasping at the rail, almost falling in my haste.
I speed to the front of my apartment building then to that streetlight, and even as my bare feet hit the pavement and the cool night air chills my skin because I’m only wearing an oversized T-shirt, I don’t care.