Flawed (Ethan Frost 4)

I don’t understand. I don’t fucking understand. What the hell did any of them get out of it? How could doing something like that to another human being, or watching it be done, be funny? Or arousing? Or whatever the hell they thought it was? I don’t get it and I never fucking will.

And Alexander Parsons, movie star, international sex symbol, and media darling, was right in the middle of the entire situation. Oh, he didn’t instigate what happened, but when they texted him somewhere around nine thirty, he made a point of showing up and joining in pretty damn quickly. And from what I can tell, it didn’t take long for him to go from eager participant to fucking ringleader of some of the more heinous things that were done to that poor girl during the night.

No wonder he had his social media professionally scrubbed when he started to get famous. No fucking wonder.

The idea that this bastard had his dick anywhere near Tori makes me crazy. He could have hurt her anytime, could have done any number of horrible things to her in the time they were together. Not just could have as in having access to her, but could have as in being perfectly capable of carrying out the most heinous, horrible acts imaginable. And then, seven years after he got away with the rape, kidnapping, and assault of a minor, he is so privileged, so secure in his place in the world, that he doesn’t mind leaking a sex tape that will draw a ton of scrutiny. And not just any sex tape, but one made without his partner’s consent.

How fucking certain, how fucking arrogant and entitled and smug, do you have to be to do that shit? And how fucking sick?

I think about Tori lying upstairs, curling into herself and whimpering in her sleep as her whole fucking life falls apart around her. I think of Marli, the girl in Perrysburg that he did this to. Then I think of how many other women this fucking predator has come into contact with in his life.

And I’m done. I’m so fucking done. He’s going down, will lose his career and his freedom before I’m done with him.

&nbsp

; I’ll make sure of it.

Walking back inside, I make up several completely anonymous email addresses that I then bury under about a hundred different security measures to ensure that they can’t be traced back to me. Or, more important, can’t be traced back to Tori. Then I attach everything I’ve found on Alex Parsons and all the other boys, and I send it out—to The New York Times, The Boston Globe, the Chicago Tribune, CNN, MSNBC, The Huffington Post, The Wall Street Journal, the Los Angeles Times, USA Today, and The Columbus Dispatch. Then I use another email to send the same information to the Perrysburg Police Department, the Wood County Sheriff’s Department, and the Cleveland branch of the FBI.

I have more digging to do, more information to gather, but this should be enough to get them started. And more than enough to change the story from Parsons and Tori’s sex tape to how he’s a sexual predator who hurts women just because he can.

It won’t stop Tori from hurting, but it might give her her life back. It’s not enough, but it will have to do. At least for now.

Chapter 23

Tori

“Holy shit, did you see it?”

“See what?” I answer groggily, pulling the phone away from my ear to try to distance myself a little from Chloe’s shrieks. This so isn’t the way I expected to wake up this morning, especially since Miles’s side of the bed doesn’t even look like it’s been slept in.

“The news about Alex! It’s everywhere!”

Oh God, she’s talking about the stupid sex tape again. I fight the urge to hang up and settle for burying my head under the nearest pillow instead. Which is why my voice is muffled when I finally answer, “Yes, Chlo, I know it’s everywhere. That’s why I’m supposed to do this stupid interview today. To try to combat—”

“Forget the interview! The video of you two is old news.” She pauses for a second, then corrects herself. “Well, not really old news because the big sites are all mentioning it as extra proof of his predatory habits. The whole world is reusing the statement we issued for you, explaining how the video was made—and released—without your knowledge. Except now everyone believes it and he’s getting hammered online. Absolutely hammered. Not that he doesn’t deserve it.” Chloe’s voice turns dark and a little ugly. “There isn’t enough bad karma in the world for that jackass to get what he deserves.”

While I tend to agree—Alex is a jackass and he does deserve all the bad karma—I can’t help feeling like I’ve fallen into the middle of a joke, where everyone knows the punch line but me. “Wait, did I miss something?”

“I don’t know. Did you?”

“Well, you’re the one calling me to do what sounds like an awful lot of gloating. So you tell me.” There’s a long pause and it sounds like Chloe’s trying to figure out what she wants to say next. “Come on, Chlo. Just spit it out.”

“So you haven’t seen the news?”

“No. You just woke me up.” I turn my head and squint at the old-fashioned alarm clock on the nightstand. Eight forty-nine.

“Oh my God! I can’t believe Miles didn’t get you out of bed for this! He sent me an email at six this morning, so I know he’s awake.”

Impatience sweeps through me, clearing out the last of the fogginess in my brain. I’m tired of being three steps behind my best friend. “This is ridiculous! Will you just tell me what’s going on?”

“The news broke early this morning. CNN led with the story that Alex raped a girl seven years ago when he was in college.”

Forget three steps. I’m a whole city block, walking in the wrong direction. “Whoa, wait a minute. What did you just say?”

“I said, Alex raped someone. He was never convicted of it because they couldn’t prove it—”

“So what’s changed? If the police couldn’t prove it, then why would the media run with the story? He’s going to sue them—”