41. Bird Set Free #2
I scope out the crowds, not expecting to find Sienna.
After her little photography revelation, I figured she exited stage left, but it turns out she’s quite The Brave Little Toaster.
Or maybe she’s just that angry. We’re too far away to hear what she’s saying because she’s off in the corner, but she’s yanking Patrick’s arm, demanding he follow her.
He doesn’t budge, too fixated on his phone. It’s a thing of beauty, watching his eyes turn to saucers and the blood drain from his face.
Sienna isn’t looking at the screen, but something about the phone, likely the sound, draws her attention. She immediately rips the device from his hand, more than horrified. The girl looks like she may very well piss herself.
Sure enough, phone after phone begins buzzing, no doubt with the first video of our double feature.
I don’t need to watch it to know what they’re all seeing.
I lived it.
Despite the video having been recorded in the high school locker room, the audio quality isn’t hindered much by the echoing.
Although, it wouldn’t matter either way.
Trent’s and Sienna’s actions speak for themselves.
With Olivia’s camera work coming from the doorway, both are in clear view and on full display as the video shows them attacking me in my naked, frail state.
The unedited version was already sent to the police, but Dash made sure to blur out any sensitive body parts, including my face, in the “leaked” version everybody here is currently digesting.
And though it’s all in one video, it’s a two-parter.
After the footage from the locker room ends, another clip shows the inside of Trent’s bedroom.
Based on the setup and position, it’s clear this isn’t just coming from a security camera.
It’s been staged to get the best angle of the action.
Aria lies on his mattress, feebly shoving her hands up at his chest and face as he lays on top of her.
All the while, she continues to whimper and beg for him to stop, but all he does is laugh.
Dash also made sure to blur Aria’s face to protect her identity, because as much as he didn’t want to show either of us in these positions, the videos are necessary for everyone to see.
Ravenswood’s elite can’t keep sweeping their crimes under the rug.
Not after this. Public scrutiny will demand a full investigation that will no doubt lead police directly to Trent’s private video collection, which Dash informed me cataloged an extensive library of depraved footage.
I’m so busy taking in all of the horrified expressions and outright gasps around me that I nearly jump out of my skin when someone’s arms grab me from behind.
It takes a second too long to realize this person isn’t trying to strangle me. At least not on purpose. My sister doesn’t say anything, and I prefer it that way; she just wraps her arms around my shoulders, sniffling.
“If you had evidence of what happened to Ali this whole time, why is it only coming out now ?” Derek demands, trying and failing to hide his anger as he looks at Jase.
“Because it only recently came into my possession. Once Olivia realized how out of hand things were getting, she filmed it with every intention of handing it over to the police, but Trent took her phone the second they left the locker room. He deleted the video, but not before sending a copy to someone else. Olivia suspected it was one of his dummy accounts, and if the video still existed, she knew only one person could get close enough to Trent to recover it.”
“Her brother.”
Jase grins. “There’s no way Patrick would turn on his best friend without a little incentive, which his sister was more than happy to provide.
Granted, his indiscretions aren’t nearly to the degree of Trent’s.
They’re not even criminal, but they’re well-documented, and it’s enough ammunition to get him in some serious trouble with their father.
There’s no more effective means of putting the fear of God in a privileged fuckboy than threatening his bank account, and trust me, the shit Olivia has on him would have Mr. Bouchard cutting off his son faster than you can say Jack Robinson. ”
Sienna has the good sense to flee the room, but Mr. Easton’s too busy schmoozing to realize something’s wrong. Not until it’s too late.
The hulking man lurking behind Trent’s father, likely his bodyguard, interrupts whatever conversation is being had to whisper something to Mr. Easton, handing him a phone.
He does a better job of schooling his expression than Patrick and Sienna, but the initial shock is still visible. His easy demeanor falters, and he just about freezes in place. When he recovers, he politely excuses himself but doesn’t make it very far.
I have no idea how Dash planned it, but the timing couldn’t be more perfect as five police officers enter the banquet hall.
Chief Nohl leads the way, and despite his attempt to look authoritative, he just looks uncomfortable to be here altogether.
The way his shoulders slump the closer he gets to Mr. Easton says as much.
He even lowers his voice enough that no one can hear what he says when confronting the man.
Mr. Easton doesn’t grant him the same courtesy, not when the chief makes it clear what’s about to happen. “I had nothing to do with this,” he barks, motioning to his phone.
Chief Nohl looks at the screen but shakes his head. “That’s not what this is about.”
Nope, it most certainly is not.
Everyone else gets clued in as the second video of our double feature begins to circulate.
I hadn’t gotten the chance to see it for myself yet, but the guys filled me in well enough. My phone goes off, and I open the message, experiencing it along with the other guests.
The video begins with someone riding a bicycle down one of the more remote backstreets of Ravenswood.
The footage comes from a bodycam that Dash informed me was built into the necklace he gave Aria to wear.
After what I told him last night about how Trent’s father had cornered me alone in the principal’s office, Dash was also correct in his assumption that the Eastons would be surveilling her property, because this was the first opportunity Roland had to confront Aria where no one else was present.
She’s riding along the side of the road when an SUV drives past her, pulls off to the shoulder, and then comes to a stop, forcing her to one as well.
Aria backs up her bike, ready to move around them, but another vehicle pulls up alongside her at an angle, pinning her in. Unless she wants to ride off into the drainage ditch, she’s stuck.
The back windows of the SUV are tinted, so you can’t see who’s inside, but the door opens to reveal none other than Roland Easton himself.
Once again, he offers nothing but an award-winning smile and friendly demeanor.
Only, Aria isn’t falling for it. She gets off the bike to lift it over the curb and starts to move towards the drainage ditch, but she doesn’t get far.
Footsteps come up from behind her, and though I can’t see who, someone must grab her because she stumbles and staggers towards the vehicle in protest. She’s forced to let go of the bike, and as she swings around, I catch a glimpse of a meaty hand wrapped around her forearm as the other pulls out the cell phone she has secured inside the athletics armband on her bicep.
I don’t know how she doesn’t lose her shit.
I felt claustrophobic being locked in the principal’s office with him.
Aria’s not even giving that luxury as she’s forced into the back seat right beside Mr. Easton, who moves over to accommodate her.
The door slams shut, and the locks immediately engage, leaving her uselessly yanking at the handle.
Perhaps Roland Easton lacks imagination, or he’s just found this template works for him, because the scene plays out eerily similarly to the one I experienced with him. Well, save for the threat itself. Those he apparently tailors to the victim.
Unlike me, Aria is the farthest thing from a misfit.
She’s the quintessential All-American girl next door who’s as sweet as apple pie and as blond and gorgeous as a Barbie doll.
Trying to undercut her potential claims by using her reputation wouldn’t work here.
And since she doesn’t have any skeletons in her closet he’s dug up, the douchenozzle goes after her the only way he can.
He consults his phone, nodding as if he’s impressed. “I see here your mother’s a nurse, going on nineteen years now. Exemplary record. But I also see she’s had to put in more time at the hospital since your father passed away.”
His tone shifts to something more somber— contemplative —and the recognition sends chills racing up my spine.
Here it comes…
“All those extended hours and double shifts take a toll. Who knows what could happen? Documentation mistakes, failure to properly monitor, medication errors, perhaps?” The emphasis on that last one makes it clear this isn’t just an observation.
It’s prophetic. “I’ve donated a great deal of money to St. Mary’s in the past, and I have eyes, ears, and helping hands all over the hospital.
I would hate to hear about a patient accidentally getting double doses or even someone else’s medication altogether, especially one they may be allergic to.
A mistake like that could cost a nurse her career, and I don’t even want to think about the lawsuit for medical malpractice. ”
Son.
Of.
A.
Bitch.
I’m all too relieved to have gone to County General for both of my hospital visits, because the idea of Roland Easton’s henchmen lurking over my patient bed with a syringe is enough to give me nightmares.
Just watching the footage makes me want to peel my skin off from ever having been in the same room as that man. And the longer he talks, the worse the sensation gets.
Apparently, the only victims who get offered payouts are those who might have a case that can be argued in court. I.e., the injuries I sustained in the locker room or the witnesses to Aria being taken out of Trent’s bedroom.
The dollar amount Mr. Easton writes on the slip of paper he hands over to Aria may not be as high as mine, but it’s still nothing to sneeze at.
And it’s all there.
The extortion.
The bribery.
The admission of guilt.
All caught in high definition.
Game, set, match.
Chief Nohl has no choice but to take out his handcuffs and declare the sweetest words to my ears, “Roland Easton, you’re under arrest.”