Chapter 41
Chapter Forty-One
Briar
I finish my cigarette before I can force myself to watch the last video. As it is, I almost decide against it. Marcus’s actual depiction of a crime scene didn’t give me any fucking clues—what would another fake interview with my dead ex-girlfriend help? But it’s not as if I have anywhere to go. Any other leads to follow. I could scour the entire town of Lavish and not find him in time before he?—
Thumping my hand on the table hard enough to rattle the ashtray, I let out a long breath and stab the spacebar.
A shaky camera focuses on Jessica’s sleek hair. She turns her head, and grins wide at whoever’s holding the camera.
“What’s up, princess?” Marcus asks.
Jessica’s eyes go wide in surprise, and then she slaps playfully at him. “Don’t call me that.”
“Why not?”
She tilts her head, lips pursing. “’Cos you know Briar will catch a fit if he hears you.”
“Why? I’m just protecting you from scavengers,” Marcus says. The camera phone zooms in on Jessica’s face. “Shouldn’t have left such a fine specimen by herself.”
Her eyes narrow. “You’re the scavenger, Marcus.” She’s jostled to the side as a pair of arms encircle her, each hand holding a red Solo cup. My face comes into view, eyes glassy and unfocused, hair a mess.
Christ, I’m drunk as fuck.
I give Marcus a lopsided smile and lift a cup for Jessica to take. Her eyes narrow at Marcus as if in warning, and then she spins in my arms and kisses me. Beer sloshes out the cups, but I don’t even seem to notice.
The longer the kiss goes on, the emptier both cups get, but then a bottle of vodka appears in the camera’s view. Marcus pours a few solid glugs into one of the cups—the one I’d been about to hand to Jess before she kissed me.
The bottle disappears. “Drink up, guys!”
I come out of my kiss wearing a wide, sloppy smile.
I was so happy. I can see it in my own face watching this now, and my heart squeezes before I can push away that unexpected swell of emotion.
Jessica peeks at Marcus over her shoulder. “He’s had enough,” she says, and then snatches the red cup from my hand as I’m bringing it to my mouth.
“It’s his birthday, Jess,” Dylan says as he appears in the shot wearing his white baseball cap and slings an arm over my shoulder.
“Yeah, Jess,” Marcus parrots. “It’s his fucking birthday.”
Jess scowls at Dylan, and then her gaze returns to Marcus as she drains what’s left of my cup. She staggers a little and then takes a few gulps from her own.
She’s just as drunk as I am—perhaps even more—but how couldn’t she have tasted the vodka in her cup? It must have been strong as fuck. Jess never liked hard liquor. Beer was always her first choice, then wine. But she’s throwing back her drink like it’s watered-down beer.
“I hope you’re gonna put out for my buddy tonight,” Marcus says, handing a lit cigarette to me. Smoke briefly obscures the video. “Seeing it’s his birthday and all.”
Jessica’s mouth drops open as she turns to me. “You told him?”
My grin widens.
Christ. I’m so far gone, I don’t even realize how much shit I’m getting into.
Marcus lets out a low chuckle and reaches for Jessica’s shoulder. She shrugs him off immediately, throwing him another heated glare.
“Ssstop it,” Jessica slurs.
“Think your girl’s a bit fucked,” Marcus says. The shot focuses on Jessica’s face, and she swats him away as she twists her mouth in disgust.
The camera jolts and noise stutters through the laptop’s speakers. I hurriedly lower the volume, glancing over my shoulder at the closed door behind me. It’s ridiculous to feel paranoid in an empty house, but I can’t help it.
This is the video Addy sent me. It’s much higher quality, but there’s no mistaking where this was taken.
Really still think Addy sent you this?
My hands curl into fists on either side of the laptop and I close my eyes in utter disbelief. I never suspected Marcus, because evidence against me would be evidence against him covering up for me. But if it was Addy blackmailing me…?
His plan fell through. Or maybe he hadn’t thought it out well enough.
“Tell you what, bro. I’ll help you get the princess to bed, yeah?”
“Bed sounds good,” I say. “Don’t it, Jess?”
She giggles at me.
The video ends.
I stare at the square of black on the laptop screen, my heart thundering in my chest.
But then, a new video begins playing.
Jess (6)
The last video.
A black screen. The sound of breathing, shoes sloughing over carpet, fabric rustling.
“She’s so fucking trashed, bro,” Marcus says.
“Tha’ was the point, wa’nt it?” I slur back.
“Almost there,” Marcus says.
“Jess? Still with us?” I ask.
There’s the faint outline of a doorway. A silhouette approaches it. Opens the door. A low light from inside splashes over the guy’s face.
It’s me. I’m standing in the doorway to Marcus’s bedroom, swaying as I hold open the door for him.
I turn in the chair and stare at the closed door. My stomach tightens, and for a second I’m convinced I’m going to puke. When I face the laptop again, it’s with a grimace and slitted eyes.
I don’t want to watch this any more than I wanted to look at that picture Marcus drew. Because I know what happens next, and I don’t want to have to face it like this.
But if I don’t, then I’ll never know if she said yes or not. It’s always been her word against mine, but now?—
Judging from how drunk she is, I already know she couldn’t possibly have consented to anything.
I tap the spacebar anyway. And I force myself to watch.
“But it’s your birthday, bro,” Marcus says. “She’s supposed to be giving you head right about now, not passing out in my bed.”
“You’re th’ one that got her this drunk in the first place,” I say.
Got both of us drunk it seems. On the contrary, Marcus’s hand is steady, and his words come out just fine.
Marcus brings Jess over to the bed, but instead of gently putting her down, he collapses on the mattress with her, letting out a theatrical groan.
She tries pushing his arm off of her, and then starts giggling.
My chest grows tight again.
Nothing could ever get Jessica down for long. She was always so happy, so fucking optimistic. My little Hollywood starlet.
Until I ruined her. Until I broke her so badly that no one could put her back together again.
I squeeze my eyes shut, and move to close the laptop lid. I can’t watch anymore. Just thinking about what comes next sickens me?—
From the laptop comes the unmistakable sound of a door closing. And then Marcus speaks. What he says makes my eyes shoot open and sends a flood of bitter bile into my mouth.
“Give the birthday boy a goodnight kiss.”
“What?” Jessica says, laughing. “Get out, Marcus.”
“Come on. One for the camera, princess.”
“Fine,” she says through a sigh, but sounds only too happy to comply. The camera jolts. Light blooms and then Marcus’s arm retreats behind the lens again. The lamp on the nightstand throws a golden aura over the bed. I perch unsteadily on the edge of Marcus’s mattress, my bare feet on the floor and my knees wide apart, and drag Jessica onto my lap.
She straddles me clumsily, her back to Marcus as he moves away from the bed. Her skirt rides up her thighs when she leans in to kiss me, both of us swaying like reeds in a high wind. She seems to have forgotten all about Marcus as our kiss deepens. I grab her ass, dragging her hard against me. When she mewls into my mouth, Marcus steps to the side to get a better shot.
“Yeah, that’s it,” he murmurs.
Cold sludge slides down my back as my lips slowly part.
On the video, my hands move clumsily as I try to take off Jessica’s shirt. I end up tangling it in her arms, and she starts giggling uncontrollably as I struggle to undress her.
The video blurs and then settles. Marcus’s face obscures the shot, a pale smudge until he steps back.
My hands clench into fists. Marcus’s pupils are crowding out his irises. It can’t just be the low light in the room causing that—that must have been the coke and shit he was on that night.
“Marcus to the rescue,” he whispers to the camera, his mouth inching into a coy smile. He points at the camera. “Who’s the greatest wingman ever?” He points at himself with his thumb. “I am, and don’t you ever forget that, bro.”
He grins, smooths down his hair with his hands, and spins around to face me and Jessica on the bed. Creeping up behind her, he slides his hands under her shirt and pulls it over her head.
She doesn’t even seem to notice it wasn’t me undressing her. With her eyes shut and her body arching against mine, she looks lost in the moment.
And so am I. My hands move to her bra, but Marcus brushes them away and unhooks it for me. I claw the straps from her shoulders, baring her tits, and Marcus draws the lacy bra out between us and tosses it on the floor.
He should have left then. I could have stomached all of this, up to this point. He was high, so he thought he would help me. It was all innocent.
But what comes next makes my skin grow cold.
He moves up against Jessica’s back and starts kissing the side of her neck. Her moan reaches the camera, but then cuts off abruptly when she snaps out of her trance and leans to the side to get away from Marcus’s mouth.
“Wha’ ya doin’?” she demands sulkily.
My eyes open, but it seems all I care about is making out with Jessica. If I see Marcus past her shoulder, I don’t seem to notice, seem to care.
I slide my hands up Jessica’s neck and draw her back for a kiss. She struggles and breaks free. “Get out, Marcus!”
“Yeah, Marcus,” comes my slurred voice as I kiss Jessica’s throat. “Get out.”
“Is that any way to treat your wingman?” Marcus slides his hands down Jessica’s waist, and she arches away from his touch and deeper into mine.
“Marcus,” she says, her voice dropping in pitch.
“Shh, princess.” Marcus swipes her hair off her shoulder and plants another kiss on her skin.
“Briar, tell him to get out,” she whines.
Instead, I grab her ass and throw her onto her back on the bed.
Because I never was a gentleman, was I? Whenever I got hard back then, I couldn’t think about anything except what I wanted to stick my dick into. It had been Jessica for months already, and I’d been more than fucking patient.
My jaw’s aching how I’m gritting my teeth, but I’m past the point of ending the video.
What happened to Jessica was all my fault. I will watch every second Marcus recorded and live with the torturous consequences of having that night forever etched in my mind.
It’s the least I deserve.
I expect Marcus to leave, now that it’s been made apparent I don’t want him there. I guess that’s what I thought back then too, in my drunken haze.
Marcus takes a step back, turning a little as if considering. It’s impossible not to notice the erection tenting the front of his jeans. And as if he just became aware of it himself, he runs a hand over his groin, flattening his dick against himself as if suddenly embarrassed that we made him horny.
On the bed, Jessica starts moaning as I stick a hand under her skirt. But I’m slowing down, my movements becoming clumsy and heavy-handed. She hisses as I begin fingering her, and then squirms out from under me.
“You’re hurtin’ me.” Her tits bounce as she sits up and runs her hands through her hair. Her face is slack from alcohol, her mouth a sloppy, unhappy crescent.
Marcus is still in the shot, but he’s still as a statue—perhaps not wanting to draw our attention to the fact that he’s still in the room.
“Sorry, babe,” I mutter, pushing up so I’m on my knees. “Lemme make it up to you, yeah?”
I grab her hips and drag her closer, and then I flip her around. She arches and lets out a low moan as I squeeze her tits, kissing her neck until she’s writhing against me.
My voice comes through on the camera, but it’s unintelligible. Marcus looks at the camera, his mouth opening like a naughty kid who’s just heard his first swear word, and then he does the unthinkable. He takes his fucking dick out of his jeans and begins jerking off.
I thumb my eyes closed and sit back in the chair, forcing back nausea. I’ve known Marcus since we were kids, but I never thought he’d be capable of doing something like this.
But I can’t stop watching now. Because, up to this point, Jessica gave me full consent.
What if I didn’t rape her? What if she let me take her virginity, and then had a change of heart in the morning?
It won’t bring her back, but it might make those fucking nightmares stop, knowing I’m not guilty.
The bedsprings start shifting, and I make myself open my eyes.
I hold my hand out to block Marcus from the video so I don’t have to witness him getting off from a few feet away while I screw Jessica.
Except…I’ve still got my jeans on.
Jessica’s skirt is off, her panties tangled around her knees, but all I’m doing is finger fucking her.
I lean forward in my seat and go to skip the video ahead.
I fold over Jessica’s back.
My hand freezes an inch from the laptop’s touchpad.
Here it is.
This is where she yells at me to stop, and I don’t.
I slide my hands down Jessica’s ass, and ease her open. Marcus chose a perfect spot on the mantel—if the light in the room hadn’t been so dim, this would have made a pretty decent porn flick.
But instead of taking out my dick and shoving it into her, I slide off her and onto the mattress.
Passed out?
I press both hands to the desk’s cool metal surface, biting the inside of my cheek as Marcus stops jerking off.
On the bed, Jessica arches her back and makes a crooning sound. When she seems to realize I’m not trying to mount her like a wild animal, she glances to the side and sees me laying on my back, one hand on my chest the other flung out, chest already rising and falling in steady sleep.
She straightens on her knees, giggling, and tries to tug her underwear up her thighs.
But she can’t, because Marcus catches hold of them with a finger. She struggles for a second before throwing a glassy look over her shoulder. It takes her too long to focus on Marcus, and when she does, she first smiles, and then frowns.
“Whad’ya doin’?” Her frown deepens as Marcus slides onto the bed behind her.
“Hush, princess,” he murmurs.
“He’s passed out,” she declares, still trying to pull up her panties as if she doesn’t realize Marcus is the one keeping them down.
“And the bastard left you high and dry,” Marcus says. He slides a hand up the inside of her thigh, and strokes her. Her eyes stutter closed, and she lets out a low moan. “What kind of gentlemen would let his best friend’s girl go to sleep all horny and shit?”
“Wait, no. Don’t,” Jessica grates, but she’s doing fuck-all to stop him rubbing her clit.
My stomach’s so tight, I’m surprised I haven’t puked yet. I narrow my eyes, not wanting to watch what comes next, but at the same time unable to look away. It’s a car crash. Body parts strewn on the road as haphazard as broken auto parts. And I’m craning my head to see, because I’m horrified and fascinated at the same time.
“No,” Jessica moans, as Marcus shoves his fingers into her. “Please, stop.”
Marcus puts his hand between her shoulder blades, and urges her down onto the bed, doggy style.
His dick is already out, and he positions himself at her entrance, fixed so entirely on his task that he seems to have forgotten about me, the camera, every-fucking-thing except wet, drunk Jessica.
“No. No!”
He thrusts so hard into her that she lets out a hoarse shriek.
It must have hurt like hell—Jessica’s body goes stiff a second before she begins thrashing under Marcus’s hand. He just bends over her, his other hand going to the back of her neck to keep her down as he begins fucking her even harder than before.
When she starts screaming, he grabs a fistful of sheet and shoves it into her mouth.
And, all the while, I’m laying right next to them, passed the fuck out.
I’m frozen where I sit as I watch it all play out. Bitterness floods my mouth, but I keep swallowing it down, forcing it back.
He keeps talking throughout. Princess this, whore that. Slapping and grabbing her ass as he watches his dick sinking into her.
Marcus comes quickly—maybe a minute or two in—while Jessica’s still sobbing around the sheet he used to gag her with. When he pulls out, there’s no mistaking the streaks of blood on his dick.
I sit forward in a rush, blinking hard.
That doesn’t make any sense. I was the one with blood on my dick. That was how I knew I was guilty when Jessica confronted me the next?—
Marcus sits back with a long sigh, stroking a last few drops of cum from his dick, and then slaps Jessica’s ass so hard that even her muffled squeal reaches the camera.
Then he looks down, and slowly lifts his hand to study his palm.
His body tightens, and he scrambles off the bed, gaping at his hand.
He didn’t know she was a virgin, and why would he? I never told him that’s why she wasn’t sleeping with me—just that she hadn’t put out yet.
“Fuck,” Marcus’s voice comes through the speaker. “Jesus, fuck.”
Jessica slumps to the side, and yanks the sheet from her mouth with trembling hands. “You fuck!” she says through a sob. But she’s staring at me where I’ve passed out beside her. She thumps my chest with a fist and breaks into a string of sobs.
Marcus moves around to my side of the bed, waiting until Jessica burrows her head in her arm before climbing up beside me.
What. The. Fuck?
He unbuttons my fly with shaking hands.
No.
I begin shaking my head, my breath coming too fast, too hot, scorching my throat with every exhalation.
He pulls my dick out of my pants, and then stares at it, face devoid of emotion.
Then he begins jerking me off.
“Fuck!” I push away, closing my eyes as I slap the laptop closed.
That’s why I had cum and blood all over my fucking dick that morning. That’s why I never doubted Jessica when she said I’d raped her. How the fuck could I, with that much evidence stacked against me?
Indi
Marcus grunts as he hoists me up and cradles me to his chest. I buck, moaning into my gag as I struggle to get out of his arms. He grabs my hair and tugs so hard I see spots. I go rigid, and then relax into his embrace as he starts walking.
It’s impossible to tell where he’s taking me. It feels like late afternoon, but it could just as easily be a shady area we’re in. For some reason, I keep thinking of the church where I first met Briar, where he and Marcus were conspiring. It would be kinda poetic, him taking me there for whatever nefarious purpose he has laid out for me in his deranged head.
As I feverishly attempt to place myself, both in time and space, memories come to me. Fragments, like raindrops splashing on my face, each one jolting clarity through me.
He had a pair of sneakers in his hand when he came to my bedroom door. The same ones that were outside.
Was it him that night, watching me?
I bite the inside of my lip, willing away the feel of his hands on my thigh and shoulder. His footsteps crunch over something.
Twigs? Dry leaves?
The church then.
It’ll end where it all began.
What did he say to me in the hallway at the party last night? How peaceful someone looked. Her. She looked so peaceful.
Had he been talking about Jess?
“I didn’t hurt her,” Marcus says.
I flinch at the unexpected sound of his voice, and get goosebumps when my mind latches to his words.
Get out of my fucking head!
I make a sound through my gag, and Marcus laughs. “You don’t believe me? You’ll see. She’s just fine.”
Who the fuck is he talking about?
But then he’s setting me on my feet. Pushing on my shoulders until I sit on something hard and smooth.
A light breeze touches my cheek, bringing me the scent of burned wood. I squirm, blinking back tears when Marcus steps back.
He doesn’t even bother lashing me to anything. What would be the point? Where would I run, bound and blind?
There’s a soft sound a few feet away, and I freeze.
Someone else is here, but who? And why are they so quiet?
Briar.
It’s an irrational, panicked thought, but that doesn’t make it any less terrifying.
It’s been the both of them all along, hasn’t it? Was this all just some sick game for them, keeping me guessing? The one luring me in, while the other stalks me from the shadows?
“ Please ,” I push through the gag. “Don’t hurt me.”
There’s a sharp intake of breath, and then I hear a muffled whimper.
Not Briar. Addy.
I should have been relieved, but I’m not. At least if Briar was here, I might have stood some chance at getting him to let me go. I know I didn’t imagine the chemistry between us. That inexplicable connection we’ve had from day one.
But he’s not here.
Maybe he’ll never be. Maybe he doesn’t even know I’m gone.
In which case it’s just me and Addy…
And Marcus.