I fervently try to remember the layout of the boat. The bathroom had two doors of entry—one opened up to the galley, and the other to our cabin. Finley could have easily slipped in from the galley, and—oh, shit. There was maybe three feet of clearance from the bathroom to the foot of the bed.
“He must have seen everything,” I whisper, suddenly nauseous. “Oh, my god. Dean—we—oh, my god…”
I put my head down, trying to control my breathing. I feel like I’m hyperventilating! Dean immediately pulls me into his arms. “I’m so sorry,” he says hoarsely, holding me tightly.
“That’s how she knew. About you g—about the details. ” My voice sounds dazed, I realize in a curiously detached way. Then I stare at him in horror. “Did you watch it?”
“I saw some of it,” he confirms, his expression tight.
I wanna die right now. “Oh, my god. How many people have seen it?”
“Kara, Finley…maybe a couple of others.” Dean suddenly releases me. I watch as he pulls something out of his back jeans pocket. It looks like a flash drive. “I got this copy from Finley. He tried to sell it to me.”
He hands it over to me, and I numbly accept it. “How much did you pay for it?”
“I didn’t.”
He flashes his teeth in a deadly smile that has me wondering if Finley’s body is floating somewhere out there in the ocean. I kind of hope it is.
“Was Captain Dan in on it?” I ask, mostly to distract myself from wondering what Dean did to get the flash drive.
Dean gives a curt nod. “Finely was blackmailing him. He had videos of them together. He was threatening to send them to Dan’s wife.”
My lip curls in disgust as I process this. Captain Dan is an ass. But back to the bigger picture. “So, Kara—what? She told you about the video, then she blackmailed you?”
“She said she’d send it to everyone in school.” He lets his head fall back. “She wanted me to break up with you—in the cruelest way possible. She said she wanted pictures of us, so you would think that we were hooking up the whole time I was with you.”
I visibly wince, pulling back. “You kissed her. After we were together.”
His jaw clenches. “Yes.”
“Did you do anything else?” I swallow past a huge lump in my throat. “She was naked on your bed. Did you take that picture?”
Dean is completely disgusted. “No. I never—she was on my bed?”
I almost want to laugh on the look on his face right now. Instead, I breathe a sigh of relief. Then I shake my head. “I get that Kara hates me, but this is insane. Why would she go through the trouble?”
He exhales slowly, looking away. “She wants to be my girlfriend,” he confesses. “She wanted us to be seen as an official couple. She tried to get me to have sex with her, but I wouldn’t. I couldn’t.”
Dean’s eyes are on me, but I can’t quite meet them. I am sick with jealousy, thinking about Kara pressing herself against him, kissing him…touching him where I touched him. My blood starts boiling furiously. I have to stick the flash drive in my pocket before I crush it in a death grip.
“Okay,” I say, striving for calm. “What happened? How did you convince her not to send out the video of us?”
“I had to find something on her, something that I could bargain with. I started thinking about what you said about her being the one who set the smoke bombs…”
I gasp so hard I choke on air. “I knew it!” I shout, suddenly feeling vindicated.
Dean patiently waits for me to finish gloating. I turn away so he doesn’t see the maniacal grin on my face. When I turn back to him, I’m more composed. I raise my eyebrows, indicating for him to continue.
“I talked to the other guys. Johnny still thought Bobo Frederico had something to do with the fires. Nick mentioned that he had played paintball with Bobo and a bunch of others a couple of years ago, and he remembered that they used smoke bombs. So we had a talk with him.”
“Bobo was her accomplice?” I interrupt, frowning fiercely. “That bastard. Wait until I tell Tanya!”
But Dean is shaking his head. “It wasn’t him—he was in L.A. visiting his father that day. But he told us who used to make the smoke bombs for their paintball games—Dalton Paley.”
“Why does that name sound familiar?” I tilt my head to the side, frowning. “I think he might be one of Tanya’s friends.”
“Yeah, he hangs out with Frederico.”
“Oh,” I say. “He’s the janitor’s son! I met him at one of your parties.”
Dean nods. “Johnny saw him and Kara coming out of a bedroom together. He thought it was weird since she doesn’t look twice at anyone outside of her social circles. So I had a talk with him.”
He says that last part with absolutely no inflection in his voice, and so I mentally substitute “talk” with “beat down.” Man, Dean’s been busy.
“Kara is the arsonist,” I say slowly. “She was using that Dalton guy because his dad has keys to the school. God, she really is crazy. Does she need attention that badly?”
“A couple of years ago, she found out that her biological father is Rigby, the school psychologist,” Dean says after a slight pause. “It pissed her off that he never publically acknowledged her. I guess the fires were her way of getting back at him.”
I suddenly recall the story about Mr. Rigby and the mother/daughter threesome. It must’ve been Kara, but it wasn’t a ménage a trois—it was a confrontation about paternity. I picture the school psychologist in my head. He looks nothing like his red-headed, nutcase, illegitimate daughter. He seems to be a lot nicer, too.
I look up at Dean, studying his face. “Do you have proof that she set those fires, and set up the smoke bombs?”
He suddenly grins—this heart-stopping, dangerously sexy grin that about makes me fall over backwards. “We have her confessing on video.”
“Um, how did that happen?”
Dean tells me about last night when he, Ben, and Arianna went over to Kara’s. Dean distracted Kara while Ben sneaked into her room to look for copies of the video on her laptop. According to Dean, Arianna not only told Ben where to look—she was the one who secretly recorded Kara admitting to setting the fires when he confronted her!
I know! That girl is getting a hug whether she wants one, or not!
“Arianna didn’t know about the fires, or the video,” Dean says in answer to my question. “She didn’t realize just how vindictive Kara could be.”
I find that hard to believe, but whatever, she ended up doing the right thing. “So what happens now?” I wonder out loud.
“That flash drive has Kara’s confession on it. It’s up to you what you want to do with it,” Dean says quietly. He’s got his Zippo in his hand, and is absently flicking it open and shut. “Ben erased the files he found on her laptop, but we can’t be sure she doesn’t have more copies out there. I don’t think she’d risk putting it on her phone, but I can’t say for certain.”
“You think if we went to the police, she’d be pissed enough to send the video out, anyway,” I say, and he nods once in agreement. “She would. She hates me enough to do it.”
“I’m sorry you got involved in this.” Dean looks away with a grimace. “It killed me to say those things to you.”
“It killed me to hear them,” I admit, hugging myself tightly. “I don’t know what to...I—I can’t believe there’s a video of us. I feel sick!”
“I’m so damn sorry,” Dean says, his voice rough with regret. “I never wanted you to get hurt.”
“I know.” I squeeze my eyes shut. “I need to think. I’ll call you later, okay? I think I—I just need to be alone right now.”
I sense him move to a standing position beside me. When I look up at him, he’s looking down at me with his eyes full of storms.
“I love you,” he says almost pleadingly. “Come find me.”
He walks away, and I watch him leave, full of conflicting emotions. I’m so overwhelmed by everything. Right
now, the only thing I can focus on is that Kara may or may not still be in possession of my sex video—and that it’s been watched!
That asshole, Finley! That morning when he was saying those things about me and Dean—he had that weird smirk on his face. He was laughing at me the whole time! And the thought that he was watching us have sex—I can’t even…ugh! Now, that memory of that one perfect night I had with Dean is ruined. I’m sick to my stomach, thinking about the intimate things we did, and knowing we had an audience. I cringe, remembering the way Finley kept smiling when he asked those questions…so disgusting! Was he there the whole night?
I suddenly scramble to my feet. I have to watch it. I need to know what’s on there to prepare myself—yeah, like there’s any way to prepare for this. I can feel the flash drive burning a hole in my pocket as I rush to my car. I want to find a smoldering volcano to toss it into—yet I have a filthy desire to see the video. As if watching it will ease my fears!
I’m home in no time, and then I’m running up the stairs to my room, fiercely glad that Leila wanted my shift tonight. I fire up my computer with shaking hands. I’ve been breathing through my mouth this whole time, and my throat is getting dry. I also realize that I’m mumbling out loud, but I have no idea what I’m saying. I stick the flash drive into a USB port, and double click the option to open the folder. Two files pop up, one has yesterday’s date for the label—and the other one says Dean and Juliet. Taking a deep breath, I click on the latter.
It’s horrible. You can see everything—in what looks like high def. I look like a shameless whore. Dean mostly has his back to the camera, but me…oh, my god, every part of me is on full display. And there’s sound—I didn’t expect that for some reason, but…it just makes it so much worse! You can’t really make out what we’re saying in the video, but you can sure hear me when I’m happy—and I’m happy a lot.
Watching it makes me want to die, but I can’t seem to look away. I feel so violated, so ashamed. This video changes that wonderful night from something that made me feel beautiful and so special into lewd and dirty porn, and—holy shit, is that how I look when I’m turned on?! Gross!
I can’t watch anymore. I fast forward to see how long Finley was recording us. He must’ve been there the whole night. Whenever Dean or I headed to the bathroom, Finley would just slip out the other way, and wait for us to be done. At least he didn’t film us while we were in there, I think bitterly.
I close the file, and then I just sit there, thinking about my options. It’s only a matter of time before the video gets out, and my life is ruined. I wonder if I can be home schooled for the few remaining months? I could move in with my Uncle Paul and Aunt Collette in Syracuse. They have three boys, already grown, and Aunt Collette always wants me to visit. I’m sure they won’t mind if I stay, um, until college starts. Where don’t they have internet access? I’ll have to look it up on the internet. I have a lot of research to do. Heather will help me. If I plan this right, I can be on a plane to Syracuse in a couple of days.
My brain is working feverishly—on survival mode, trying to block out the nightmare of the sex video by focusing on my escape route. Yes, I am totally serious about this. I steel my spine, and click on the internet icon—and then my head drops down onto my desk, and I start crying.
Dean. I simultaneously want to run to his arms for comfort—and run as far away from him as possible. I can’t tell which urge is strongest right now. None of this is his fault, he’s a victim as much as I am. He went above and beyond to protect me, and I’m ready to bail on him.
He must’ve known I’d want to take the coward’s way out. That’s why he looked at me like that at the park. Like I was holding his world under my foot, ready to stomp it into the ground.
Despair pours into me at the thought of leaving him. But I can’t stay here, not after Kara releases that video—and there is absolutely no doubt in my mind that she will.
That psycho bitch. My vision clouds with a sudden murderous rage. I honestly want to kill her. If she and Finley were here with me, and I thought I could get away with it, I would choke the lives out of them—then bury their bodies in my backyard while whistling a cheery Disney tune. Maybe I won’t kill them. I’ve never scalped anyone before, but I’m willing to learn. I bet there’s a how-to video online.
I entertain myself with sick fantasies of torturing Kara and Finley until I’m lightheaded with bloodlust. My phone is blowing up like crazy, but I ignore it. I have to calm down, think rationally. If I’m going to have my revenge before I leave, I have to figure out a way that I won’t get caught.
While I’m contemplating, I stare at the computer screen, at the file labeled as yesterday’s date. Kara’s confession. After a brief hesitation, I open it.
Her face appears on the screen, and all my muscles tense with pure hatred at the sight of her. I turn the volume up, and maximize the window before clicking on the play button.
It’s like watching an exorcism. The video is focused solely on Kara, with Dean’s deep steely voice decimating her with accusations. The more he questions her, the uglier she gets—until she’s like a feral cornered cat, hissing and spitting.
“So I set a few smoke bombs—big fucking deal,” she snarls, tossing her blood-red hair. “Was the bitch hurt? No. In fact, I did her a favor—little Mary Sue loved all the attention she got.”
Bitch said what?!
“—would ever believe that I would do something like that?”
Kara’s scowl melts into a seductive smirk which she appears to be aiming in Dean’s direction. “I have no motive, and you have no proof. I’ll deny everything, and so will Dalton and Calvin. Dalton will take the fall for me if I tell him to—he’d do anything for me. And Calvin—he’ll pay anything to make it all go away for me. I could light Liddell’s hair on fire, and get away with it. I’m untouchable. Unless you want to touch me.”
She walks forward, swaying her hips while toying with the top button of her shirt. I detect a faint gagging sound, distinctly feminine. Arianna. I’m definitely going to give that girl a gift basket, or something.
“Paley will talk,” Dean says from off-camera. He sounds disgusted. “He’s not doing jail time for you.”
“Yeah, I heard you beat the shit out of him. And Finley—all for Juliet’s honor. You’re a real hero, Dean. But like I said, there’s no proof I was involved in anything. I was very careful to not get caught on camera, and I made sure I didn’t get my hands too dirty. In fact, I made myself a little insurance. I’ve got video of Dalton starting the fire in Calvin’s office. Dumbass was with me, and he didn’t realize I was filming him. If he even thinks about opening his mouth, I’ll send that little clip in anonymously.”
Kara shows all her pointy white teeth in a shit-eating grin. “You won’t believe the shit I’ve gotten away with. Leclare is my playground—I can do whatever I want to whoever I want, and you know what? I’ll never get caught.”
“Yeah, you’re a real badass.” Dean mocks her. “You set a few trashcan fires—that’s nothing more than a little girl’s cry for attention.”
Her eyes narrow dangerously. “I was just having some fun. You don’t know what I’m capable of when I’m serious. Remember Devlin Banks? Of course you do—she was the biggest whore in school. She wasn’t here for very long, though, was she? She made a serious mistake when she tried to cross me.”
There’s a significant pause. Then: “You burned her house down.”
Holy shit!
“Yeah, too bad she wasn’t in it at the time.” Kara’s face morphs into something ugly and twisted again. “She was the one who spread that rumor about Calvin and my mom and me. I told her I would get her back.”
There is a sudden gasping sound, and Kara’s head swings toward the noise. Her eyes turn into slits, and she lunges forward.
“You bitch!” she screeches.
The video stops after Arianna is discovered. I continue to sit there with my mouth hanging open, in complete shock. Wh
oa. I can’t believe what I just saw. Kara is…she really is crazy. She freaking burned down someone’s house who gossiped about her—I’m lucky she didn’t kill me! Ho-lee shit. This is…I don’t even know. What the hell am I suppose to do with this? It’s beyond insane.
Okay, well the way I see it, there are two options: cut and run, or stay and fight.
I lean back against the chair, taking a deep breath. There’s no debating this time. I know what I have to do.
I just hope Dean will understand.
******
Chapter 52
I am surprised to discover that, while Kara lives in a very nice neighborhood, her house is not nearly as fancy as some of the other places I’ve been in. The psycho lives in a lovely two story Colonial, with a white picket fence, and a giant elm tree in the front. It’s so…picturesque and normal-looking. I thought her house would be something super modern and ostentatious—all glass, and—I don’t know—pentagrams. But this…it’s way too suburban for someone like Kara Deschamps. It’s bizarre.
I also don’t expect her to answer the door, but there she is, looking like a supermodel in skinny black pants and a red blouse. Her beautiful red hair is pulled back into a ponytail so severe that the skin of her forehead stretches unnaturally tight. She looks both startled and evil.
She leans against the door frame, sneering as she looks me up and down. I’m still in my uniform, without the blazer, and my blouse is a wrinkled mess. I don’t want to even think about what my hair is doing.
“What, did you get lost on your way out of town?” Kara laughs at me, probably mistaking my euphoric rage for something else less murderous.
I have to take several deep breaths. Now that I’m here, I have to fight the instinct to take her down, and just start punching her, over and over, and over…
I put my shaking fists behind my back, just in case. After another cleansing breath, I look up at her, meeting her eyes squarely.
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