Fifteen
Amy takes me to the same place in town I tried, the Stone Bear. It’s a few doors away from the hardware store. My cheeks heat at memory of showing the clothesline to Alex. Alex . Could I sneak into his room again tonight? He’ll probably start locking his door now and how embarrassing would it be to be caught in the hallway like that? Maybe he’ll sneak into mine?
Katherine is tall and thin and gorgeous. She’s older than me with a subtle New York accent and could have easily been a model. I’m a little in awe of her and the way she fills a room even a restaurant sized one. But her smile seems genuine when she meets me.
“I ordered wine, you drink right?”
Amy laughs. “This is SJ, she writes romance.”
Katherine’s warm smile is welcome after my cousin’s response to my confession.
I return the gesture and tell her, “I’d love a glass of wine.”
I settle into a chair between them. They chat about the resort construction. Amy told me Katherine is married to Gabe, that man I met who works with Alex. He seems younger than her, but her face lights up like she can’t hold in her happiness when she talks about him. I ignore the twinge of jealousy that both Amy and Katherine have their dream men.
“So do you have any kids?” Amy asks.
Is she talking to me?
“Not at the moment,” Katherine responds. “Probably around the holiday. Seems to always be a tense times for families.” Katherine sips her wine while I try to figure out what she’s talking about.
“Katherine and Gabe foster.”
“Oh. Wow. That’s got to be a lot.” I’m at a loss for words, having never met a foster parent before. She seems like she belongs in Aspen not taking care of someone else’s kids in crisis.
“I love it.” The food comes and interrupts whatever else she might have said.
My Asian inspired salad is delicious and I dig in after a tentative bite, suddenly starved.
“What are you reading?” Katherine asks Amy.
Amy turns pink. “Um. I kind of fell into a series about orcs.”
“Orcs, like the green goblin monsters with tusks.”
“That’s the one.” Amy shrugs.
Katherine laughs. “Oh my god. Tell me more because if it makes you blush like that, I have to read it.”
“Them. It’s a series.”
“Spill.” Katherine commands and Amy does. I follow the conversation while I try to keep from laughing salad out my nose and the description of the monster cocks and quantity of cum these guys have.
“Damn, I need a shower,” I blurt.
“I know, hot right?”
“Sticky. Just imaging all that…” I wave my hand around my body. “Makes me want to wash.”
After we catch our breath, Katherine ask the dreaded question. “So what do you write?”
It’s easier to answer after talking about orc peen and the fact that I am actually writing a book. “Romance. Erotic romance.”
Katherine leans forward. “Really.” She drags the word out. “Tell me more.”
I rattle on for a bit about my “latest”, meaning only, work in progress.
“I’m intrigued. What’s your author name?”
“I’m sorry, I don’t mix my real life with my book life.” It’s a lame excuse but the fact is I’m not a published author and I can’t bring myself to take credit for someone else’s hard work to cover my uncle’s lies.
Katherine leans closer to me. “Give me your phone.” I hand it over when I probably should have questioned her. She adds herself as a contact. “Promise before you go, you’ll share that secret name so I can brag that I know an author.”
I chuckle and nod, tucking my phone away, but don’t actually promise because I can’t.
Katherine changes the subject to chat about a hot regency romance series she’s been reading with spanking. Amy writes the name and title down eagerly. Having seen her get spanked in person, it makes sense she’d want to read about it.
Lunch last for two hours and I’m more relaxed and happier than I can remember being except for the weekend with Alex. Even then I was more tense because of the reason I’m here. My contentment doesn’t last. Right as we get to the inn, my phone rings.
“Excuse me.” I tell Amy. “I have to take this, it’s my agent.” Another lie, but it’s not a new one, simply a repeat of the original lie I told when I got here. Each phone call gets more and more uncomfortable, but he’s supporting my writing career, so I answer.
“What the hell are you doing out there, girly?”
Still walking away from the car, down the block so I’m not overheard, I ask, “What do you mean?”
“It’s been six weeks. That fancy inn ain’t cheap. Did you get any dirt on Alex or not?”
“There’s nothing to find.”
“Bullshit. You just ain’t trying. Should I have been like you and just given up when you were being treated like a whore in California. Should have just left you there? Of course not. Because that’s not what family does. We take care of each other, right?”
I want to agree, but something about what Alyss didn’t say niggles at the back of my brain. “What happened? That day in the barn with Alyss?”
“She disappeared right after the graduation ceremony. I knew in my gut something wasn’t right. I searched everywhere, finally found them in the barn. He had her tied up. Taking advantage of her. She was underage. He left her humiliated and broke our family. She couldn’t even go back to school to finish her senior year. He ruined us with what he forced her to do.”
My salad rises in my throat at the image, the accusation.
“You should know all about being forced to do things. Or don’t you remember?”
I remember all too well, and I can’t speak with the horrible images he’s bringing to mind.
“You know, if you forgot, I got some pictures of my own. Took them when I found them. Be a real shame if they ended up on the internet. Maybe I’ll send you a couple by email so you can remember what I saved you from. Remember you owe me.”
“What?”
“I didn’t pay to send you out there to take a damn vacation.”
“I thought it was to write my book.” I look for a place to sit because my legs aren’t going to hold me.
“You can write whatever you want, but I want dirt on Alex Craig. I think you can figure out what happens if you fail.”
The pictures of me being abused get released. I hate this man. The guilt comes rushing in. He was the one who searched for me in California. He was the one who got me free. But he’s the one who’s holding explicit photos over my head, pressuring me to take down a man who’s supposed to be terrible but has been nothing but nice, loving even. I don’t know what happened ten years ago, but Alyss never accused Alex of ruining her life, only said it was the worst day of her life. Was that because of Alex or MD?
“You’re gonna owe me for all the expenses, the plane flight, the Sunflower, all of it if you don’t deliver.”
Without a job, there’s no way I can pay my uncle back. He’d have to sue me, but that would create more bad blood in the family and Alyss and I barely speak now. “I’ll keep trying, but he hasn’t done anything wrong. Won’t do anything wrong. I called Alyss. She didn’t want to say what happened.”
“It was a traumatic event for her. She probably got some PTSDs or something from it. Or she’s lying because she don’t want to tell you about it. I bet she’d remember quick if I told her you were living with him.”
My steps falter. He wouldn’t. Except he would. I don’t have a lot of family. Even though we’ve drifted apart, Alyss is my cousin, was my best friend. The fact I can always call her is a safety net. My aunt too. I have a place to go for a holiday if I wanted to. He could easily break my relationship with them. No more quickly than Alyss finding out I slept with her old boyfriend. How did I get myself into this?
An offer I couldn’t refuse and a threat I can’t avoid. Pictures of me being forced to do?—
My throat tightens and bile rises up from my guts.
They can never be made public. I wouldn’t know how to live if that happened.
“I did find out he was living in St. Louis before this.” Guilt washes over me as soon as the words leave my lips.
“That’s good. I can search the records there. But I need more. He’s got to be caught red handed, get that predator off the streets.”
If I do this am I the monster or is he? “I’ll be able to get what you need if you give me more time.”
“How much?”
I don’t know. Forever? Never? “A month?”
He barks a bitter laugh.
“Two weeks. Their new club is opening and I’ll be able to make something happen by then. I promise.” Like find a way out of this?
“You better get me some proof or these pictures are going to find their way to your momma, your boss, and everyone on the internet.” He ends the call.
In my email, there’s a new message. I open it with shaking hands. The attachment is slow to load. But when it does, I have look away and fight to keep my lunch down. I’m not sure whose dick is shoved down my mouth. Their face isn’t visible, but mine is. The tears, the mussed hair, the runny makeup aren’t enough to conceal my identity. There’s a second attachment, but I can’t open it.
The walk back to the inn is dreadful, each step taking me closer to a task I never should have agreed to and there is escape from. Unless I want to be ruined forever, never able to get a job because those images will be on the internet and associated with my name. Unless I want to give up any connection to what little remains of my family, I have to find away to catch Alex being the predator my uncle swears he is.
I’ll hate myself for doing it, but self-preservation motivates me. The invitations to the soft opening were printed and sent. A few remain. My uncle’s address, Alyss’s childhood address comes to mind without effort from all the letters we mailed back and forth growing up. The black ink stark on the white envelope. If I send this, there’s no going back, but at least he’ll have the proof that I wasn’t lying about the club. He’ll know I’m trying. And maybe that will buy me some time and keep him from destroying me with photographic evidence of a situation I can never forget. Images that will make me more famous than any book I could ever write.
I’m exhausted and sick to my stomach. I drag myself up to my room and fall down on the bed too tired to even cry.