I could hear voices in the background. Or, a voice at least. I strained to listen.
“Take her clothes off.”
A chill ran down my spine as a hooded figure moved into the frame, creeping over to the woman. He unzipped the dress and guided her arms out before tugging it from her body. She hadn’t moved. I bit my lip and swallowed hard. She was either unconscious . . . or dead. Either way, this was clearly not consensual.
What the hell is he doing with this?
By that point, I was freaking the fuck out: my boyfriend was into snuff films. I was watching a snuff film. What the fuck was I doing? I wanted to turn it off and pretend I’d never seen it, but I couldn’t. Something compelled me to sit there and keep staring at that screen.
“Now, tie her arms to the bedhead with that rope.” The voice almost had an echo to it, like the third person wasn’t even in the room. But that might’ve just been the poor-quality speakers. “Yeah. That’s good.”
Okay, this was getting really creepy. The dude’s voice was low and raspy, and it was obvious he was jacking himself off.
The figure on screen began touching the girl, who was now completely naked. I watched as he unzipped his pants. He removed his penis and began to stroke it.
“Fuck her. Give it to her deep. I want to see you fuck the bitch until she can’t walk. Fuckin’ slut.”
I shivered as the hooded man stripped off and straddled her.
I can’t watch this.
I felt sick. Whatever was going on here, I was certain it was a crime. That poor girl was being raped. I blinked back tears as the camera zoomed in on her emotionless face. That poor girl. The film had been edited in such a way that I never saw the guy’s face.
I had to do something. I have to give this to the police. A surge of anger rushed through me. Why the fuck did Mace have this shit? Closing the video, I clicked on the second one, dreading what I was about to see.
Same room. Another girl, only this one was blond. She looked younger—maybe nineteen or twenty—but just like the other girl, she lay motionless on the bed. She was already naked, with both her wrists and ankles tied to the bedposts. The same distant voice relayed orders, and what looked like the same hooded figure assaulted the poor girl.
I couldn’t believe it. What should I do? I was panicking. In all my years of law, nothing had prepared me for this. I sat there, my eyes glued to the screen as he began to fuck her, the camera angle again cutting out the guy’s face. I could see her face perfectly. She was beautifuclass="underline" porcelain-white skin and long, dark lashes.
“Turn her over. She needs to take it up the ass.”
The guy immediately stopped and pulled out of her, then unfastened the restraints. He flipped her over onto her stomach, her limbs hanging like dead weights.
“Push her knees up under her. Give it to her like the dog she is.”
I choked back tears as I watched him struggle to position her. So many things were racing through my mind . . . but most of all, why was he into this? I’d never thought the day would come when I wished my boyfriend was into midget-fisting porn.
Then I saw it.
Something that would change my life forever.
It was only for a split second when he turned to face the camera, but it was unmistakable: a small, millimetre-in-length scar above the guy’s nipple, near his collarbone; and the snake tattoo that curled around his left bicep. I replayed that moment over and over and over again.
This guy is Mace.
My boyfriend was a rapist.
Chapter Seven
Leeta
With no idea what I was doing, I copied the files onto a USB, closed all the applications and shut off the computer. My heart was pounding in my chest. What the fuck was going on? How could I not know this? I felt like a neighbour being interviewed on a news program after a murderer is arrested. “He seemed so normal.”
I was a fucking idiot. How could I not know I was dating a psychopath? What the hell was wrong with me?
Grabbing my bag, I got the hell out of his house, terrified he was going to come home and catch me. I couldn’t talk to him. What would I say?
I sat in my car outside Target. All I wanted to do was get home, but first I needed a new computer. In spite of all this, I still needed to finish the deposition for work.
I was in and out in five minutes. Thank god for self-checkouts. I couldn’t face talking to anyone right now, especially a nosey checkout chick who’d have wanted to make small talk. Back in my car, I started it up and maneuvered my way out of the parking lot.
Hell, I’m shaking. My hands were trembling so badly it was sending me all over the road. The people around me probably thought I was drunk. God I wish I were. If I were drunk then all this would go away. Calm down, Leet. Just focus on driving. Get home, and then panic. Okay, I can do that.
Ten minutes later I was sitting in my garage, in the midst of a panic attack. What should I do? I had no freaking idea of what to do with this information. All I knew was thinking about it made me want to hurl.
I have to watch them again. I have to get as much as I can from those videos before I decide what to do. The problem was, I didn’t know how much of sitting there and watching my boyfriend fuck another woman I could handle.
I got out of the car with my new computer and went inside. While I waited for it to set up, I made myself a cup of tea. God I was so angry. How the fuck could he have done this? The cheating was bad enough, but this…whatever it was?
Okay. Sit down and watch them. Pretend it’s not him. Pretend you’re doing this for a case. Nodding to myself, I plugged in the USB and waited. I clicked on the first video, determined to do this.
Marcus jumped up into my lap, marching himself into a little ball of fluff. In a weird way, having him there relaxed me. It was like he could sense I was stressed and wanted to help. I listened to his purring, intermittently looking up and studying the screen.
Out of the thirty-seven minutes the videos ran for, I’d managed to actually watch about half. Pretty good considering a few hours earlier I’d been so angry I was ready to cut his balls off. Not that I’d put the knife down yet, but my anger had evolved into something…deeper. Anger could be resolved easily. What I was feeling now was a on a whole other level of emotions. Finally, I’d had enough. I needed to get away from this and get my mind on something else. I still had my stupid work to get done too.
Snatching the USB from the socket, I stalked over to my desk and shoved it in the drawer, slamming it shut. Then I went back over to the couch and curled up with Marcus on my lap, and the computer resting on the armrest. I chuckled as Marcus rolled onto his back and stretched out. So long as he was comfortable.
Shocking even myself, I finished the deposition and emailed it through to work.
Then I went to bed. I’d had enough and just wanted the day to just be over. I had every intention on going to work tomorrow, because frankly, I needed the distraction.
Carrying my phone and Marcus, I curled up under the covers trying to figure out my plan. But that was just it…I had no plan.
I watched Marcus chase his tail next to me on the bed, and sighed. He had the life. His only worry was getting that damn tail. My phone was ringing again, but I didn’t bother checking it. I knew it was Him. Not answering was only going to concern him, but I didn’t know what else to do. I needed time to figure this out, and right now I had no idea how to do that.