Double Love

I kept my face resolute. What a jerk. But it wasn’t over yet.

“Trinity,” asked another reporter. “Are you making enough to cover your tuition now? Forty-six thousand a year is a lot.”

That was the other big angle to the story. How increasing student debt burdens had forced an Ivy League student to sell her body. I wasn’t sure what to say in response to that question because it was basically true, so I decided to dodge instead.

“I’m sorry,” I replied sweetly. “But my financial situation is none of your business. Don’t you know? It’s rude to ask someone’s salary,” I said. “How would you like it if I asked how much you make?”

“Seventy-five thousand before taxes,” he replied stoutly, not missing a beat. “So how about it? Answer the question, honey bun, you know we’ll find out anyways.”

“No can do,” I replied with a freezing smile. “But I’ll let you know the next time I have a new release.”

Because I wanted to take control of the narrative. Things had spun so out of control. There were so many lies and rumors about me which made me feel sad, in addition to violated and outraged. I needed to regain control of my life and maybe the solution was to throw myself into the lion’s den. After all, I was already at its edges. Why not go in all the way and control my own destiny?

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Zeke

I wanted my stepsister home asap. She was flying in this afternoon and we couldn’t get her in our arms soon enough because the maelstrom has been fucking unbelievable. Melanie’s been profiled in Vanity Fair, Rolling Stone, as well as some trashy magazines. But all the publications focused on the salacious parts of her story and painted her as a “porn star” when in fact, she’s never performed professionally. It was all because of that leaked audition tape.

Celebrity is fucking cruel, but my sister is strong. The press has taken to calling Melanie “Trinity” and her answers have been getting sassier and more confident. Now, she’s saying things like, “Women own their bodies and if they want to make a little money, why not?” Holy cow. What’s become of our innocent little girl?

When Melanie showed up at our doorstep, Zander and I were on her in a second, helping her in and settling her on the couch. She looked tired and I was again reminded of her youth. In the magazine profiles she’d been doused in make-up, her hair blown-out straight so that she looked at least twenty-five. Here, out of the public glare, she was eighteen again and our little sister to be protected and cherished.

“Baby,” said Zander, “how have you been holding up?”

“Oh god,” she sighed, leaning her head against his bicep. “Not good,” she murmured. “I’m so sorry, I ended up taking leave from school and they said they couldn’t refund tuition for this semester. Not even part of it,” she continued sadly. “I’m sorry.”

I kissed her head.

“Don’t even worry about the refund,” I rumbled. “We don’t care about the lost tuition. The more important question is, how are you?”

She closed her eyes as if letting herself rest for the first time in two weeks. Her breath was shallow and tears gathered beneath her eyelids.

“Zander, Zeke,” she said sadly. “Am I done for? Will I always be Trinity now, and not Melanie? Because you know that’s how I’m publicly known.”

We didn’t know what to say. The truth was yeah, she was probably barred from gainful employment forever more. The best she could do was likely as a waitress or working retail at some minimum wage job. Because what respectable corporation would hire a former porno star? Background checks these days are crazy rigorous.

But we didn’t want to get into it just now. We wanted her to feel better and to become whole again after this messed-up turn in her life.

“Honey,” I said, smoothing her hair back. “Why don’t you get some rest? You must be tired after the long flight. We’ll talk about it after dinner.”

I saw that she was nodding off already, weary and slumped, the stress and tension melting from her slender frame for the first time in weeks. Slowly, Zander picked her up and we deposited her on the big bed in our room. Her small form was dwarfed by our huge circular mattress.

Once the door was closed, Zan turned to me.

“Fuck,” he growled. “She’s so tiny. She’s lost weight for sure. Any update on who did this?”

I sighed. The truth was painfully simple and heartbreaking.

“Her roommate,” I said. “A girl named Lauren. Melly thinks they’re best friends, but Lauren videotaped the audition on her cell and sold it,” I said.

“Well, let’s fuck her up then,” growled my twin, and I nodded. The bitch was in for it. After all, no one hurts our girl and gets away with it.