Behind the Lens (Behind the Lives) (38 page)

BOOK: Behind the Lens (Behind the Lives)
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The
guy’s eyes shifted about, looking anywhere but at Saul. “The new stuff, boss.”

“You
did what?!”

“Ant
told me to do it.”

Saul’s
face turned into a vicious snarl. “That bastard! Go get me the SG stash, it’ll
bring him down.”

The
thug nodded, then ran off.

“What’s
wrong with him?” Beth asked.

“He
was given a hallucinogenic.”

“Will
he be alright?”

“Yes,
though the come down will be a bitch.”

“Did
Ant force him to have sex?”
like you tried to force me.

“No.”

“But
he said he wuz made to prostitute himself.”

“Then
it was pro’bly with that Korean Ant sent after him.”

“You
keep Ant away from him.”

“You
can’t make demands,” he said, placing his arms under Dante.

“Don’t
touch him!” Beth yelled.

Saul
glared at her. “I’m just going to give him a shower, unless of course you’re
strong enough to lift him?”

She
shook her head, answering the obvious. “But I’m staying here.”

“I
don’t care.” Saul heaved Dante up, the strain on the big man’s face obvious,
but whether it was pride or determination, he carried Dante over to the shower,
grunting at Beth to open the door. He entered the shower and laid Dante down
more gently than Beth would have expected, Saul a contradiction, mean and nice
all wrapped up in one arsehole of a package.

The
thug returned with a syringe. For the first time Beth noticed his fly was
undone, as though her screams for help had interrupted him having sex. He
handed over the syringe to Saul, who lifted Dante’s robe and injected it into
his rear. Dante hissed, then several seconds later his shaking started to peter
out until it completely stopped.

Saul
removed Dante’s robe and lifted the showerhead, obviously not caring as he got
himself wet. He adjusted the temperature, then grabbed a bar of soap and started
washing Dante mechanically, getting every inch of his body. Beth yelled out as
he touched Dante’s cock. Saul looked through the glass at her. “By the way
you’re walking, I’m guessing it needs a lot of cleaning,” he said, then resumed
what he was doing, giving it no more attention than any other part of Dante’s
body.

When
finished, he barked, “Get me a towel.”

Before
Beth could react, the thug was passing one to Saul. Dante lay still as Saul
dried him, looking like he’d fallen asleep.

Once
done, Saul picked Dante up and carried him out of the shower, dripping water as
he handed him over to the thug, who carried him to the bed, almost toppling
over under Dante’s weight. Beth followed, wanting to hurt him for causing Dante
to short circuit.

A
noise dragged her attention back to the bathroom. Saul emerged from it half
naked, with a towel wrapped around his hips, his thick muscles covered in
Samoan tattoos; the type she knew was traditional, even more painful to receive
than normal ones. But what drew her eyes the most was the scars covering his
torso, the raised lines resembling whip marks. He stopped a few feet away from
the bed, his expression telling her he wasn’t happy she was looking at them.

She
tore her gaze away from him and sat down next to Dante, who was sleeping
soundly. “Will he be alright?” she asked, keeping her eyes on Dante, although
Saul’s scars were making her want to look at them.

“I
already said he would be,” Saul answered.

“Why
wuz he given that drug?”

“To
relax him.”

“It
did the complete opposite.”

“Because
Ant went behind my back. It was supposed to be a relaxant in the syringe, not a
hallucinogenic.”

“Why
wuz he even given that? He’s here to take me home, isn’t he?”

“No,
he’s here to work for Craven. Do you remember those videos I showed you?”

Feeling
sick, Beth nodded.

“They’re
worth a lot of money. Not the videos themselves, per se, but the series.
Dante’s very popular with Craven’s clients: his violence, his outbursts, his
looks, his fucking; they love it, can’t get enough of him, and are willing to
pay a lot to keep watching.” Saul nodded at Dante. “He will pull in millions
for Craven, has already done so. You may think that’s absurd, that one person
can’t generate that much money, but Dante can. Craven’s clients have more cash
than sense, and perversions that Dante will have to satisfy.” Saul’s upper lip
curled in disdain, as though the business disgusted him.

“You
can’t make him prostitute himself!”

“I’m
not making him do anything, because Dante has freely given himself over to Craven.”

“I
don’t believe you.”

“Well,
he has, and it’s all because he wants to protect you and Ash.”

Beth
stood up. “Ash wouldn’t allow this.”

“Because
he doesn’t know, and if you tell him it would result in his death, and if you
go to the police it will result in yours.”

Beth
blanched. “You still can’t make Dante do this.”

He
breathed out. “I’m sorry; I have no say in the matter.”

“Liar!
You just don’t wanna help him. All you wanna do is help yourself, like you
tried to help yourself to me. So stuff your sorries, cos they mean nuthin’
coming from a lying rapist!”

Saul’s
face dropped, then his gaze shot to the thug, who Beth had forgotten was still
standing across the bed. The guy grinned at him. Saul pointed at the door. “Get
out!”

The
thug headed for it. “You’re just like the rest of us, Saul,” he said, as he
passed him.

“I
didn’t rape her!” Saul yelled.

“The
honey doesn’t agree, so the next time I want Thai you’re not stopping me.” The
thug exited the room, closing the door behind him.

Saul
turned back to Beth, that sorrowful look again filling his eyes. “Craven and
Ant made me sick, they warped me; forced me to do things that I didn’t want to.
I’ve lost everything because of them, including myself.” He spun around and
headed for the door, the scars on his back making Beth’s eyes pop. They were
worse than the front; the raised lines looking like Saul had been tortured. He
slammed the door shut, leaving Beth shocked that someone could hurt him that
bad.

Dante
made a noise in his sleep, capturing her attention again. She curled her body
around his. “You don’t hafta do a thing for them,” she said. “Not a thing.” She
glanced over at the door, wondering what things Craven and Ant had made Saul
do.

 

 

 

 

21

Corey

Monday

Corey woke
up, wishing he hadn’t a second later. A headache was doing parkour across his
frontal lobe, while his body felt like it had been hit by a car again.
A hand landed on
his arm, causing him to jerk his head around, the sudden movement painful.
Sledge’s twin sister was sitting on his bed, someone he did
not
expect
to see in his bedroom ever again.

“You
okay?” Juliet asked.

He
pulled the covers over his body and shifted away from her, freaked out that
she’d been watching him sleeping. “No, I feel like shit, and why you in my
room?”

“Sledge
asked me to watch over you.”

“Don’t
lie,” he said, knowing Sledge wouldn’t do that, especially after what had
happened between him and Juliet. Before he’d gotten with Sledge, he’d hooked up
with her on a couple of occasions, the last time disastrous, Juliet punching
him for shouting out Sledge’s name during sex.

“I’m
not lying,” Juliet said, looking annoyed.

“Yes,
you are, and don’t creep on me again or I’ll tell Sledge.”

She
pushed off the bed. “I wuz
not
creeping on you! I’ll get Sledge to prove
it.”

An
image of Sledge’s angry face popped into his mind, their argument at the party
returning with a vengeance. “No, don’t get him!” Corey yelled.

Juliet
turned back. “Why not?”

Corey
started massaging his aching head, wishing he hadn’t woken up even more now. “Cos
he hates me.”

“No
he doesn’t, he told me yesterday he’s in love with you.”

Corey’s
mouth dropped open.

“Shut
your mouth,” Juliet said, looking amused. “I don’t wanna see down your throat.”

Corey
shut it, but only for a second, his mind going crazy. “He said he loved me as
in
in love
with me?”

“Yeah,
not sumpthin’ I saw coming, especially the part where he said he told Tama you
guys were doin’ it.” She screwed up her nose.

Corey’s
mouth dropped open again, then he snapped it shut, thinking he must be dreaming.
“He admitted to Tama he wuz fucking me?”

“Yeah,
then he beat Tama up and kicked him out for threatening you.”

Corey
went silent, totally and utterly shocked, because he didn’t think Sledge would
ever admit it to Tama. “But, why would he do that? He went totally nuts at me
for outing him at a party last night.”

“That
party wuz two nights ago, and he blames himself for you gettin’ hurt.”

“I’m
not hurt. Well, I’m sore, yeah, but ... what do ya mean the party wuz two
nights ago?”

Juliet
frowned. “Don’t you remember yesterday?”

“I
remember the party and...”
going to a warehouse with Tyler.

“Do
you remember what Ant Torres did to you?”

“Who’s
Ant—” Corey cut off his own question. The memory of cameras flashing rolled
through his mind, along with a man smiling at him, touching him... His eyes
widened. “No, no, no, I wouldn’t cheat on Sledge.” He groaned, also remembering
Ant’s lips on his. “I’m such a moron! How could I have done that to Sledge?”
Feeling like throwing up, he swung his legs out of bed and grabbed his
crutches, which were leaning against the bedside cabinet.

“You
didn’t
cheat on Sledge,” Juliet said.

Not
believing a word, he hobbled around her, heading for the door, because he had
definitely kissed that man. But how could he have cheated? Sledge was the one
person he wanted the most in the world, someone he had no right to, the guy so
far out of his league that he shouldn’t even be looking at other guys, let
alone kissing them. And, oh God, he’d finally managed to get Sledge to fuck
him, then he’d let someone else do the same the next day.

“I’m
scum,” he muttered, feeling shattered, “utter scum.”

Juliet
followed him. “You didn’t do anything wrong, that rotten bastard Ant did. He
drugged and assaulted you.”

Corey
stopped in the doorway. “What?”

“Sledge
said you came home totally wigged out of your brain. You said and did things
that suggested you were taken advantage of.”

“I
did?”

“Yes.”

Corey
stood there, trying to remember. He’d gone to the party, had a fight with
Sledge, those boys had harassed him, then Tyler had taken him to the warehouse.
Shit, it
was
two days ago, because he also remembered waking up the next
morning and modelling for a sexy guy, but after that things weren’t so clear;
just blurred memories of hands, kissing, being scared, crying and begging to be
taken home. But apart from the aches and pains, it didn’t feel like he’d been
fucked. It felt more like the aftermath of taking too much drugs.

“The
police want to talk to you ’bout what happened,” Juliet said.

Corey’s
face fell. “Hell no! They’ll arrest me for taking drugs.”

“No
they won’t, they’re here to help you.”

“They’re
here? As in, in the house?”

“Yeah,
they’re talking to Sledge in the lounge.”

Corey
screwed his eyes shut, thinking this was getting worse by the second. “I can’t
go to prison, I can’t.”

“You’re
not goin’ to prison. You’re the victim.”

Corey
opened his eyes. “But I don’t remember being assaulted, so how can I be a
victim?”

Juliet
placed a hand on his arm. “Just go back to bed, Corey.”

He
shrugged her hand off and headed down the passage, stopping in the doorway to
the lounge. He peeked around the corner. Sledge was sitting on the couch next
to a blonde woman who looked vaguely familiar, both of them discussing
something with the two men across the coffee table. They didn’t look like cops.
One of them was scruffily dressed in jeans and a jumper, while the other wore
nice pants and a white button-down shirt.

“Corey,
go back to your room, you’re not dressed properly,” Juliet said.

Everyone
in the lounge turned to look his way. “Corey?” Sledge said, getting up.

Corey
turned and hobbled as fast as he could back to his room, shutting the door
behind him. He sat down on the bed and leaned over to grab his track-pants off
the floor, freezing as the door opened. Sledge stepped inside, making Corey
inhale sharply.

“I’m
sorry,” Corey blurted out. “Please don’t dump me.”

Sledge
closed the door. “I’m not dumping you.”

“But
I let that man kiss me.” Oh God, why the hell did he say that!

“No
you didn’t, he forced you.”

Corey
rubbed his forehead, trying to remember.

Sledge
dropped down in front of him, and placed his hands on Corey’s legs. “It’ll be
alright, babe, we’ll get through this together.”

Corey’s
eyes filled with tears, because he was sure he’d cheated now. “I’m so sorry.”

“You
have nuthin’ to be sorry for.”

“I
do, I cheated. I don’t know why, but I know I did.”

Sledge
took a hold of Corey’s face, his expression deadly serious. “You did
not
cheat.
You were drugged and sexually assaulted. The perverted scum also took naked
photos of you, may have even raped you; that’s why the police needa speak to
you.”

Corey
stared at him, letting the words filter in, trying to digest them, because none
of it made sense. “He can’t have raped me,” he finally said, “cos my arse isn’t
sore, and I can’t tell the police I posed naked.”

“I’ve
already told them. They just need you to confirm it.”

“No
way!”

“But
you hafta, so they can arrest Ant on child pornography.”

“I’m
not a child.”

“You
are according to them; you hafta be eighteen to do porn.”

Distraught,
Corey pulled away. “Then why didja tell them?!”

“Cos
it’s illegal.”

“You
hate me so much that you want me in jail now?” Corey said in horror.

“No,
babe, you got it wrong, Ant’s the one who’ll be goin’ to jail, not you.”

“But
you said it wuz illegal for me to pose naked.”

“Not
for you, for Ant to take the pictures. He took advantage of you.”

“No
he didn’t.”

“Yes
he did, he forced himself onto you.”

“But
... he can’t have.”

“Then
explain why the fuck you said he spread your legs?!”

Corey
blanched. “What?”

“You
told me yesterday he spread your legs, you also said he stuck his thumb up your
arse.”

Corey
stared at Sledge in horror. “I don’t remember saying that.”

“Well,
you did, and now you hafta tell the cops that Ant raped you.”

“But
I don’t feel like I wuz raped, and I think the photos were for money,” Corey
said, remembering being handed cash. “I think he also said I would get more
cash if I worked at some convention.”

Sledge
pushed up, his face vicious. “You ain’t goin’ anywhere near that sick fuck
again OR Tyler. Understand?!”

Corey
flinched, then nodded, upset that Sledge knew he’d seen Tyler. “I’m sor—”

“Stop
saying sorry, this isn’t your fault. If anyone should be apologising it’s me.”

“But
why? You did nuthin’ wrong.”

“Yes
I did, I caused this whole mess, but I’ll fix it, and I’ll tell the cops you’re
not up to answering questions.”

Corey
still didn’t understand why Sledge thought he’d caused it, but he nodded
regardless, definitely not wanting to talk to the cops.

“I
hafta go out for a while,” Sledge said, “but if you need anything ask Juliet.”

“Can’t
you stay?”

“No,
I’ve got no choice now, but I’ll be back as soon as I can.” Sledge kissed him
on the forehead, then left. Moments later, doors closed followed by cars
starting up.

Corey pushed up and hopped over to
the window, pulling the curtain back a fraction. The blonde woman drove off
with Sledge, followed by a blue Holden. He frowned, trying to remember who the
woman was. Was she a relative of Sledge’s, because she did have a Croatian
accent? No. Sledge’s relatives all had dark hair, plus he was sure he
remembered her kissing Dante. Yeah! She was one of Dante’s exes, the nutty
Special-K chick who wore stuff-all clothes. He didn’t know how he could’ve
forgotten her.

His
phone started ringing, breaking his train of thought. He hopped across the room
and swiped it up. “Hello?”

“Hello
to you too, baby boy. You ready for work?”

Corey
frowned, wondering whether someone was pranking him, but the voice sounded
familiar. “Who’s this?”

“Your
new boss.”

“I
don’t have a boss—or a job.”

“I
hired you yesterday. Don’t you remember?”

“Who
are you?”

“Ant
Torres.”

Corey
sat down, his heart pounding. “You’re the one who kissed me.”

A
laugh rumbled through the line. “You kissed me back.”

“No,
I didn’t.”
Please let me be right.

“Then
why didn’t you push me away?”

“I-I
don’t remember.”

“You
don’t remember anything?”

YOUR
hands
, YOUR
mouth
, ME
naked
...
God, he couldn’t say
that, plus he didn’t want to, because no matter what Sledge and Juliet had
said, it still felt like he’d cheated.

“Are
you still there, sweetheart?”

Corey
swallowed. “Um ... yeah, um ... Sledge said you forced me to have sex,” he
muttered, not sure if it was true. Because again, he didn’t feel like he’d been
raped, and he would know, wouldn’t he?

“I
didn’t force you to do anything!” Ant snapped. “And Sledge wasn’t there, so how
the fuck would he know, unless you told him. Did you?”

“N-no.”

“Good,
and Sledge is obviously making it up because his family hates me.”

“But
why can’t I remember anything straight? Everything’s fucked up in my head.”

“It’ll
be the Rs, they muck with memories sometimes, but I’ve got more important
things to discuss than what you remember. I need you to be ready to be picked
up soon.”

“I
can’t, I’m not allowed to go near you.”

“Look,
boy, this is business here; it’s got nothing to do with us having sex—”

Corey
blanched, the rest of Ant’s words going over his head.

Ant
stopped talking. “Are you crying?”

Corey
wiped his nose. “No.”

“Well,
you can cut that crap, because I don’t have time to baby you. A car will be at
your place any minute now, so you better be ready or else I’ll come down there
myself and haul you off to the police station—”

BOOK: Behind the Lens (Behind the Lives)
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