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What the fuck? What the fuck is this?
The fact that there’s footage of me from my bathroom means that Victordidhave a camera in there after all. When we went through all the ones in my apartment, he never said anything about that one, and I know it’s not because he forgot about it. He never forgets anything, and he was watching me in there. Watching me do things. He just never told me. He lied.
He has to be the one who hunted down footage from the golf course after finding out what happened to me. For what? I’d already told Malice who was responsible, and they went after Colin, so why would he need the video?
On top of that, they taped everything that happened the other night. That’s what hits me like a punch in the gut.
They recorded it. They made a fuckingsex tape.
My stomach is in knots, and I chew on my lip, staring blankly at the screen as the video footage starts to play all over again, as if it’s set on a loop. I glance over my shoulder to make sure Victor is still asleep, and he hasn’t moved from the first time I looked at him.
Leaning down, I move his mouse, clicking on something else on the screen.
A message pops up, and it looks like it’s meant to go with the videos.
It’s clearly Victor who wrote it, from the detached and almost formal tone of the writing. My eyes skim the text quickly, and then I have to go back to the top and read it all over again, feeling sick.
The words are harsh and cruel, and just like the video, they’re about me. It’s so much worse than I ever thought Victor could be, even back when he didn’t seem to like me very much.
She’s a whore, just like her mother, the message reads.She’s filthy trash who’s perfectly happy to spread her legs for anyone, as you can see. She’s already been well used, and on top of that, she’s damaged. I can assure you, she’s worthless.
Tears blur my vision, and I keep reading that last line over and over again.
She’s worthless.
Bile rises to my throat, and I take a step back, as if that can distance me from the words on the screen.
I have no idea who they’re sending this message to, or if they’ve posted it online, or what. But I guess at the end of the day, it doesn’t even matter.
Whatever this is for, it’s horrifying and violating. It’s a confirmation of every awful thing I’ve ever believed about myself, right there in full color on the screen. With the videos to prove it.
Worthless.
Damaged.
Trash.
On top of that, it’s also confirmation that all the things that turn me on, the things I’ve tried to deny and hide from, really do make me some kind of freak. And that’s all I ever was to these men.
A hole for them to fuck.
A virgin for them to ruin.
An easy lay.
I thought they were different. I thought that at least they weren’t going to use me and hurt me. They’ve done plenty of bad things, but they never tried to force me. They stood up for me. Malice protected me.
And for what? So I’d lower my guard, and he could turn around and have Vic do this? Was it Malice’s idea?
Does it even matter now?
My mind is suddenly full of the memory of what Ransom said earlier tonight. About how he and Malice have shared before, but I’m different.
I remember how that made me feel special and warm, and I want to kick myself for believing any of it.
God, how could I be so blind?I bet he says that shit to every fucking girl who comes through here. I bet he flashes those gorgeous ocean eyes at them and tucks their hair back, using all that charm to make them fall into a false sense of security.
And I was dumb enough to fall for it. Or maybe desperate enough. Desperate enough to believe I meant something to them, when I should’ve been trying to keep them at arm’s length all along.
