by Sansa Rayne
“You should have seen your faces. Oh wow.”
What. The. Fuck!
“That was seriously fucked up,” Pierce snarls, still shielding me with his body. “What the fuck is the matter with you?”
Chase sighs, taking a can of beer from the pocket of his robe. He pops the top and takes a long drag. “I wanna know what’s the matter with you, Pierce.”
He sounds like this beer isn’t his first.
“What do you mean?” Pierce asks. “You know what? Never mind. We’ll talk about this later.” He gets his keys back out of his pocket and starts to unlatch the door. “We’re leaving.”
“No, Justin. Let’s talk.”
Pierce turns around. “I’m a little pissed off right now, I don’t think you want that.”
“Blow it out your ass!” He takes another long slug from the can, then stows it back in his pocket. “You’ve been lying to me, and to her. You don’t want to get called out on it.”
Chest heaving menacingly, Pierce steps toward his friend.
“Are you serious?” he asks Chase. “You really want to ruin everything?”
I grab Pierce’s arm. “What are you talking about?”
“We’ve discussed this, Chase,” he says, ignoring me. “Nothing’s changed.”
“Bullshit,” Chase spits, his face contorting with a rage to match Pierce’s. “You’ve had weeks! I’ve been patient, but this is bullshit. What’s the fucking problem?”
“Hey, what are you two talking about?” I say, pulling hard on Pierce’s arm.
Neither of them answer.
“Well?” I say, letting go of Pierce. A frigid wind climbs the lining of my stomach and rises into my throat; I want to throw up, but my heart is racing too fast. “What is it?”
Pierce shakes his head, turning to me. “This isn’t how I wanted you to find out.”
The room spins, and I let myself slump to the ground. “Find out what?”
Chase throws his hands up in the air and growls. “She has no idea? Like, you didn’t even explain… Wow.”
Pierce twists around to shoot him a look. “That’s right. Because I’m not a fucking moron.”
“What… is… it?” I say, my voice choked with tears.
“This is hard, Sibel,” he replies. “Remember when we met at that bar?”
I nod; it’s crystal clear to me.
“You asked why I wanted you for our website so badly.”
That’s right. It’s the question that ended the meeting. After he sent the photos of the mannequins, I forgot about it. As long as he agreed not to feature me on his site, it didn’t really matter.
“If I had told you the truth then, you’d have dismissed me right away. By not telling you, I ran the risk of this happening. I didn’t want to do either.”
Chase snorts. “What, then? You hoped I’d just give up?”
“Yeah, exactly,” Pierce snaps.
“Hey,” I say, folding my arms across my chest. “What was the truth? Tell me now, or I-”
“Okay.” He holds up his hands in surrender. “This is it: I wanted to get you on the site because Chase wants to fuck you. Okay? That’s it. He saw your performances at the gallery and on the web, and wanted you.”
Oh.
Chase stares at me, watching my reaction; his face is still but tense, like a dam holding back a river of fury.
“I tried to just hire you for the site, but you wouldn’t agree. I told Chase I’d try again, but really, I persevered because I liked you. Then I got the idea for the mannequins. You should have seen me running around town buying everything. I was so excited, and it was because of you, Sibel. It wasn’t just a job I was doing as a favor to my friend — I was doing it because I hoped you’d appreciate it. I wanted you to see me as more than a pornographer.”
I’m too stunned to speak, so it’s Chase who responds first.
“You’ve felt this way about her the whole goddamn time?”
So I’m not the only one he lied to!
“Yeah,” Pierce replies, bowing his head and shaking it. “Been trying to figure out what to do ever since. Sibel, I knew that I couldn’t ignore what I felt for you. That was always going to come first. But Chase, I how could I betray you? I didn’t know what to do, so I kept trying to buy time. I didn’t have a plan, because how could I make a decision like that?”
As much as I want to be livid at Pierce, I can’t help feeling a surge of pity. If what he’s saying is true, he was in an impossible position.
“I had no idea,” I murmur. “I’m sorry that this had to happen; it’s not fair to any of us.”
“Thanks,” he says, nodding and looking at me like I’ve just thrown him a life jacket.
“But you should have told me weeks ago,” I continue. “You’re right, I probably would have left. The whole idea is sickening. I wouldn’t have had anything to do with either of you. But you should have told me anyway.”
“You’re right. It was a mistake. But…”
My eyes narrow. “But what?”
Pierce sighs. “I don’t regret it, Sibel. What we’ve discovered in each other. What we’ve shared… I’m not saying I would do everything the exact same way, and I’m sorry for how this has all gone down, but I’m glad to have experienced what we have together. I wouldn’t give it up for anything.”
“No, of course you wouldn’t,” I snarl. “You’re not the one who’s had a fucking freak lying in wait for a chance to fuck you.”
“Freak?” Chase laughs, a high-pitched squawk that grates my bones. “You’re one to fucking talk. We’re not that different, Sibel Isaacs.”
“Shut the fuck up, Chase. Pierce, open the door. I’m leaving. Remember the night we laid down the ground rules? Well, I’m calling it. This is over.”
“You don’t mean that.” He lifts his hands in supplication, panic digging lines in his features. Slowly, he moves to block the exit, whether he realizes it or not.
“Open the door,” I repeat.
“You fucking cunt,” says Chase, stumbling toward me. “We both give people something so they can jack off, so don’t pretend you’re so much better than us.”
He probably would have kept going, but I swing my leg high and far and up, catching him in the groin with the tip of my heel. I make solid contact.
With only a robe for protection, Chase doubles over, gasping. “You… bitch!”
“Oh, fuck you, Chase.”
Pierce works the deadbolt and shoves the heavy warehouse door enough to get it ajar. “Please, Sibel. Stay, or let me call a cab.”
I swing the door wider and grab my purse. “Shut up, Pierce. I can’t believe you’d try to pimp me out. Who the fuck do you think you are? And you,” I say, turning to Chase. “You and me are never going to happen. You got that? You disgust me.”
Despite the agony on his face, he purses his lips and blows me a kiss.
“Sibel,” Pierce says. “I’m sorry. Please don’t-”
I slam the door behind me and march off into the night.
I watch Sibel until she turns the street corner, then I shut the door behind me. “Are you happy now?” I growl at Chase.
“Oh yeah, fucking thrilled,” he replies, wincing as he rubs his crotch.
The last thing I want from Chase is sarcasm. “She’s probably never coming back. You know that, right? So if your goal was to ruin this for all of us, mission accomplished.”
I expect a retort out of him, but instead Chase turns and limps away.
“Hey, I’m not finished with you!”
He strides past the array of cameras and monitors, which were all set to record. Chase makes for the mini-fridge humming from the back of the room and gets himself another beer.
“You’ve got nothing to worry about,” he says after opening the can and taking a drink. “She’ll be back.”
“Oh yeah? How so?”
Pointing a finger at the cameras and the table full of sex toys, he winks. “Because no one else has all this shit
just lying around. You really fucking got her, man. I’m impressed.”
I should be disgusted, but I can’t help hoping he’s right. There’s nothing I want more right now than to have her back, and part of me doesn’t really care how or why she returns — only that she does.
“I’m telling you, that slut’s gonna go crazy without you,” Chase continues. “The weirder they are, the more they need-”
Before he can finish his sentence, I’ve closed the gap between us. I knock the beer can from his hand and watch it spray foam across the floor. “Do not call her a slut again, Chase. I swear to God.”
He grins. “Listen to you, championing her honor. Just like Dani. Don’t ever change, right?”
“Like you? You’re the same asshole you’ve always been. You do realize you’ll never have a woman like Sibel, thinking and acting like that, right?”
Chase laughs, rolling his eyes. “Sure I will. Fucking Christ, Pierce. She was here for the sex. She needed it, you provided. What part of that wasn’t clear? When are you going to learn how to spot a whore when you see one?”
My fist shoots out like it’s spring-loaded. It’s not a hard punch — just a jab, really — but it nails Chase in the nose, knocking him back a step.
“I warned you,” I growl.
Chase grunts a laugh, rubbing his bleeding nose. “Yeah, I guess you did. You done now?”
I spit at his feet. “Insult Sibel again, you’ll find out.”
He chuckles some more, going to the fridge to replace his lost beer. “Okay, settle down, Pierce. We’ve got a video to shoot tomorrow, remember? Thanks to that fucking bitch, I need to ice down my cock.”
Popping the can tab, he starts to go. “I see you’ve got a mattress out there. Think I’m gonna crash on it later, okay?”
It’s the bed Sibel and I have laid in most nights for the last few weeks, and I don’t want Chase to touch it, but I’m too tired to argue. Instead, I march out of the warehouse, to my car parked on the street, and drive home. For a long time I lie in bed, angrily staring at the ceiling until exhaustion’s merciful grip drags me under.
—
Vanessa stands in wait outside a condemned parking garage. She’s worked with us a few times now, and the fans of the site have taken a liking to her. She’s small and frail-looking — she knows how to play a victim. Most importantly, she likes the work a lot better than turning tricks outside The Gulag.
Today she’s got on a pair of jean shorts that barely cover the underside of her ass, and a plain white t-shirt tied off above her belly button. High humidity and the noon sun are making her forehead glow with sweat and her blonde curls hang limp, so Chase and I don’t waste any time.
By now she’s familiar enough with the routine that there’s little need for speaking or direction, which is good because shooting a video with Chase is the last thing on Earth I want to be doing right now. I’m still so furious with him, I feel like having to hold the camera steady is all that’s keeping me from punching him in the face again.
If he’s experiencing any sort of remorse for last night, he doesn’t show it. In fact, he seems more energetic than usual. When he slams our truck’s door shut, the sound echoes off the crumbling concrete like a gunshot. Even Vanessa is startled. In a panic that looks all too real, she tries to run from Chase, but he’s on her in seconds, wrestling her to the ground so he can bind her wrists with duct tape.
She opens her mouth to scream, but her howl is quickly cut off, muffled by the cloth Chase stuffs in her mouth before taping her lips.He hauls her upright, then shoves her forward. She walks a few steps, then stops, prompting Chase to keep forcing her to march.
“I can do this all day, missy,” he growls. “You’re going to find out.”
He guides her toward the frame of a burnt out sedan, where we’ve laid out a mattress and a variety of junk car parts picked up on the cheap. I can’t help but be reminded of the space I set up for Sibel in the subway.
I try to compartmentalize my anger toward Chase, my financial need to create new content for my website and my responsibility to oversee the film shoot for safety and quality. In a few hours, this will be over and I can avoid Chase for a few days.
Maybe I’ll even cancel the next scheduled shoot, buy myself a week away from everything. I could drive down to Jersey and see my mother, or maybe head down to Belmar or Asbury Park and tan on the beach for a few days. How long has it been since I took a proper vacation? I flew Chase and me out to Vegas a couple years ago, but that was for an adult entertainment conference, which doesn’t count.
Chase pulls off Vanessa’s shorts, revealing a neon pink thong.
“Oh, that’s nice,” he says before slipping his hand underneath and yanking it down.
Vanessa mumbles through her gag as Chase flips her over and starts smacking her ass. I zoom in on her cheeks, which are milky white in the bright sun. Chase swats them with his bare hand until they start getting pink; for a while, the only sounds are the meaty spanks, her muted cries and the musical rustle of distant traffic.
Then he unzips his pants, freeing his bulging erection. I hand him a condom and slap a pool of lube into his palm; when he plunges inside Vanessa, she groans in relief. Mattress coils whine in rhythm with Chase’s thrusting and Vanessa’s exaggerated struggling.
I shut my eyes, trying not to think about Sibel, and the things Chase said about her. What if he’s right? What if it was really all about the sex with her?
Fuck, stop it.
I know he was speaking through his warped views on women, and that I should dismiss his conjecture as meaningless, but I worry anyway. Sometimes doubts with the weakest foundations can be the hardest to shake.
Plus, despite Chase’s cavalier demeanor last night, he was hurting — and not just from getting kicked in the balls. I betrayed him. He had a right to be mad. Judging by the way he’s pounding Vanessa’s drenched pussy, he’s probably still angry. She’s writhing and shrieking, engulfed in bliss. She whines when Chase pulls out before finishing, her eyes pleading with him to continue.
He applies a fresh puddle of lube to his cock, and this time jams it against her rear. It slides into her ass with little resistance, and Vanessa’s eyes go wide in shock. She shakes her body, as if to fight him off, and howls loudly as Chase sets about driving into her with animal fervor.
Why the fuck does he really need Sibel? I lament. Are women like Vanessa really not enough for him? If he really thinks they’re all the same on the inside, what makes Sibel so different? It can’t just be her beauty — it has to be something more.
Then I hear it: three distinct grunts.
The sound shakes me from my thoughts, and I look to Vanessa. She’s staring at me, eyes wide with fear. She makes the three grunts again, turning her head back and forth.
Every drop of adrenaline in my body surges through my veins at once. That’s the distress signal to end the scene in situations where the model is gagged.
“Chase, stop!” I shout, running over, the camera still in hand and recording. “Stop!” I shout, pushing him off of her.
Interrupted, it takes him a second to realize what’s happening, but then he snaps into action as well. While I use safety scissors to cut through the bonds around her wrists, Chase rips the tape off her face and pulls out the gag.
“Are you okay?” I ask.
She shakes her head again, inhaling deeply through her mouth.
“What the… fuck… Chase?”
He chuckles, zipping up his pants. “What?”
Vanessa glares. “That was way… too fucking… hard!”
“God, Vanessa, I’m so sorry,” I say, offering a hand to help her up. She takes it, but glowers at me. “We can take a break. As long as you need.”
“No, fuck that,” she says, looking around. “Where’s my fucking clothes?”
I point back to the entrance of the parking garage, where the scene started. “Over there. Why?”
She rolls her eyes and strides past
me, trying to walk in a dignified, aggressive manner despite her nudity and discomfort.
“Wait,” I say, trotting to catch up. “You don’t want to finish the shoot?”
“No!” she shouts. “We’re done, Pierce! You don’t want to pay me, whatever. I don’t care.”
“Hey, it’s okay,” I mumble, trying to keep up with her. Chase is following too, although at a relaxed pace. “I’ll make it up to you.”
When she stops to pick up her clothes and get dressed, I get out my wallet and fish out a small wad of twenties. She freezes when she sees the cash.
“Please, take it,” I say, holding the money out in front of her. “We’ll reschedule the shoot, and next time we’ll go over everything first.”
She laughs, swiping the money and stuffing it into the tight pocket of her jeans. “Think you can keep your dog on a leash?” she says, looking over at Chase, who’s now close enough to hear.
“Yeah, Pierce? What do you think? Ruff ruff!”
“Ignore him,” I tell Vanessa. “He’s dealing with some personal shit, okay? You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Yeah, whatever,” she says, turning to stalk away. She raises her hand behind her back and gives us the finger.
Chase laughs, watching Vanessa’s hips swivel as she walks. “Doesn’t matter how pissed they are, they still take the money. That’s just how they’re wired.”
I turn to head back to the truck. “Eat shit, Chase. Was fucking up me and Sibel not enough, you need to torch our business too?”
He trails after me and piles into the passenger seat. I should tell him to get out, to fucking walk back to the apartment, but I’ll never hear the end of it.
“They take the money because they deserve it, after putting up with your bullshit,” I murmur.
Chase smirks, nodding his head. “I suppose.”
I’m about to start the car, but I stop. My head is pounding, and all I want to do is get out, start walking and not stop until I drop in my tracks.
“You know this isn’t the first time I’ve had to clean up your mess,” I say, my voice sounding as tired as I feel. “I’m not going to keep doing it. I’ve spent years trying to keep you happy, and free. And this is the appreciation I get? No, fuck it. I’m done.”
