Switching to the download file folder, I look for videos. There’s only one, and the file name is Insurance_AK. Maybe some video he took to file an insurance claim related to the fire?
No, because the date is from before Friday.
I click on the video and freeze. It’s me…and Shane.
Someone took a video of us in his living room?
There’s no sound, but the picture is clear.
My mind races, and my heart hammers as I try to piece together when this was. The shirt I’m wearing in the video is the one I had on the day after I found the rose in my bed.
I watch as I walk over and grab a pillow from the couch. I drop it at Shane’s feet and then lower myself to my knees.
Oh, my God.
The roaring in my ears is deafening.
The clip continues to play until I jab my finger to stop it. I’m too slow. The last frame is one of me with his cock in my mouth.
My breath catches in my throat. I can’t breathe.
I stumble into the guest bathroom, thinking I’m going to be sick. I drop to my knees at the toilet, my mouth filling with saliva as I break out in a sweat. I spit into the bowl over and over, but I don’t vomit.
For several moments, I’m too sick to move, but my mind continues to race. It dawns on me that there was no one lurking in a corner filming us. We were completelyalone.
There’s a hidden camera somewhere in Shane’s living room.He’sthe one who recorded me, and then downloaded the video onto his phone.
Goddamn him.
Was this video just for himself? Or did he forward it to other people?
I delete the video as tears fill my eyes.
Fucking asshole.
I check the gallery and delete the other video and picture of me. Scrolling back, I make sure there’s nothing else. Of course, the video in the living room was downloaded. That footage could be in cloud storage somewhere, and probably is.
Another wave of nausea hits me. My very first time giving anyone a blow job, and the guy records it. He can use it against me anytime. If he posts it online with my name, it will be searchable by potential employers.
Saliva fills my mouth again, and my stomach heaves.
For several minutes, I wretch, feeling as ill as I’ve ever felt in my life. Suppressing a sob, I lie on the cold tile until stillness helps quell the nausea. Finally, I’m steady enough to wipe my face with a cold cloth.
Then another thought hits me. Shane could send the video to my mom.
See, Sheri? As I said, Avery’s the one who chases me, not the other way around. She’s eighteen, so I finally gave her what she’s been dying for. A taste of my cock.
The phone drops onto the bathroom tiles as I stumble to my feet.
I have to get out of his house.
Right fucking now.
29
SHANE
When I wake before dawn, I’m alone in my bed. There’s no light coming from my bathroom, so she’s somewhere else in the house.
