Richard

“None shall—” the frat boy began, smirking for a few moments before he realized that Richard had turned, taking the boy’s arm and twisting it hard behind his shoulder in an arm lock. The AEO goon screamed out, his deep, throaty voice suddenly reaching a falsetto pitch. “Fuck!”

Before we knew it, three other members of the fraternity were on top of us, two of them going for Richard while the remaining member took hold of my wrist and pulled me away from my stepbrother. I struggled against the frat boy holding my arm, his grip stronger than I had been expecting from some half-drunk rich boy. I heard him chuckle, a look in his eyes that I knew all too well.

Before he could pull me any closer to him, I stepped down hard onto his toes, driving the heel of my foot hard against his at the same moment as I yanked my arm away from his grip. The frat boy yowled, stepping backward in surprise. He stumbled back a few steps before falling right onto his ass on the porch.

I looked up just in time to see Richard punching one of the other AEO brothers right in the jaw, another doubled over and grabbing at his stomach. Out of anyone I knew that my brother could handle himself, but as I watched him do away with two of his attackers, I saw four more making their way up the stairs, a dark expression on their faces.

“Richard, we should go,” I called, backing away from the closing brothers and closer to my stepbrother.

“Go? But you only just arrived.”

I turned my head to quickly I might have given myself whiplash, taking another step closer to Richard as Michael stepped through the front door, a wicked smirk on his face. I felt like I was going to be sick, my mind unsure of whether to be afraid or enraged at what that monster had done to my best friend.

I heard Richard roar in anger, moving past my like a wild animal, his fist raised. But before he could even get close to Michael, four pairs of hands grabbed him and threw him to the ground.

“I wouldn’t, if I were you,” Michael said in his smug, cocky voice. “You’re a guest in our house, and assaulting your hosts is just so rude.”

Michael’s frat brothers laughed in a dim-witted chorus. My stomach turned as I watched him bask in their sheep-like admiration. This was the kind of thing that Michael loved, being the mastermind, the leader of “lesser men” as he called them. It made me sick just watching it.

“You know why we’re here, Michael,” I said. “We want the pictures back.”

“Pictures?” he asked, feigning innocence. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”

“Cut the bullshit,” Richard snarled, slowly getting to his feet under the watch of four muscled college students. “You know what picture’s we’re talking about.”

Michael made a pleased sound in his throat, his smile only widening like some psychotic Cheshire cat. That smile made my skin crawl.

“We should discuss business inside,” Michael said, motioning for his henchmen to step back. “It’s far too crowded out here, I think.”

Richard and I begrudgingly followed Michael into the house, a troop of brothers following behind, their faces taking on a menacing expression. I didn’t like the way they looked at me, hungry like a pack of wild animals. Was that the look they’d given Becky before they’d raped her? I wanted to vomit at the thought.

We were lead into what appeared to be some kind of sitting room, a set of leather armchairs set right in front of a roaring fire. The entire room was lined with bookshelves, and it gave off a definite air of sophistication and class. If this room had been in any other place on Earth I might have honestly been in heaven.

“Close the doors, gentlemen,” Michael called to them, his tone almost patronizing. “We’d like some privacy.”

We heard the soft click of the double doors closing behind us as Michael began to pace leisurely in front of the fireplace.

“So, little Miss Becky told you about our little party the other night,” he said. “She’s such a naughty little slut. But not as naughty as the two of you, I think.”

He casually drew out his smartphone and began to swipe his thumb across the screen, moving it from left to right as he gave a sinister chuckle.

“The things you two have done to one another,” he said, shaking his head and clucking his tongue. “Most people wouldn’t dream of seeing things like this…. And to your own stepbrother no less, Jessica? It seems like you’re twice the slut Becky is.”

“Don’t you dare talk about her like that!” I said, clenching my fists. “You’re lucky I don’t report you for what you did to her.”

“Luck had nothing to do with it, Jessica,” he said, smiling so smugly as he turned his phone toward Richard and I, a picture of Becky on the screen, her hair a mess, her eyes half open. With a touch of his finger, the video began to play and Michael’s recorded voice rang out clearly.

“You want this, don’t you? Tell me you want to fuck me. Say it right to the camera,” Michael said over the speaker.

Becky’s eyes turned toward the camera, confusion plastered across her face.

“I want it,” she mumbled, blinking slowly.

“And there you have it,” Michael said, shutting off his phone. “I believe they call that consent.”

“You drugged her,” Richard growled. “That doesn’t count as consent.”

“Where’s your proof?” he asked, looking around as though it might be in the room with us. “Did little Miss Becky get herself tested? A rape kit? Drug screening?”

My stomach tightened. Becky had been too scared to step forward, afraid of the judgement and the persecution that came with being a victim of sexual assault. She didn’t want to be another statistic, another “slut.”

“And in regard to our business,” Michael laughed, “I’m going to be keeping these pictures right here on my phone where they’re nice and safe… and if I ever need you to do something, then I’ve got everything I need to make sure that you do it. After all, you wouldn’t want Mommy and Daddy finding out their precious little stepchildren are getting nasty together at college, do you?

“And I don’t think the coach will be too thrilled to find out that his star freshman quarterback likes to stick it to his family members, do you? Bad for publicity.”

I felt bile rising in my throat as the reality of Michael’s threat hit me like a ton of bricks. If he released those pictures—if our parents found out what the two of us were doing together—our lives would be ruined.

“Why shouldn’t I just take that fucking phone from you right now?” Richard asked, taking a step forward threateningly. Michael only let out another laugh.

“Because, Richard, those pictures aren’t just on my phone… they’re up there!” he said, pointing into the air above him. “Up in the Cloud, where they can be nice and safe in case something silly might happen to my phone. Isn’t technology grand?”

“You son of a bitch,” Richard growled.

“I can’t deny that,” Michael chuckled, “my mother is an enormous bitch. But that’s not the point here, is it? No, the point is that I’ve got proof of something that you don’t want the world to know about, and for the low, low price of whatever I want, it’ll stay that way—tucked away in my little corner of the internet, never to be seen again.”

“And if we say no you’ll release the pictures all over the internet,” I said, a crushing feeling of defeat crashing over me like a ton of bricks.

“Still as smart as ever,” Michael sneered, his tone mocking as he slipped his phone back into his pants pocket.

I turned toward Richard, hoping that he might have an answer to what was happening, some kind of clever trick he might be able to pull out on Michael that would save us both from both embarrassment and possible disownment from our parents. Richard’s life would be ruined and his college football career over before it even had a chance to really start.

“What do we do?” I asked, my voice low, though I knew Michael could hear every word. I could practically feel him gloating over both of our misfortune. He had us right under his th

umb—exactly where he wanted us with no foreseeable way out that didn’t ruin our lives.

“I don’t know, Jess,” he said, his eyes staring into the back of a high backed leather chair that Michael had taken to leaning on heavily. “I really don’t know.”