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.

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.

Other than to pretend the last few hours hadn’t happened.

Mace

I hadn’t heard from Leeta since Tuesday. There had been a missed call from the day before, but whenever I tried calling back, I got no response. That concerned me, but just then I had bigger things to worry about.

The time had passed so slowly all day, but now it seemed to be racing toward seven at full speed. I hadn’t bothered going home; I’d stayed back at work and caught up on some paperwork. With each minute that passed, the anxiety in the pit of my stomach grew. So many things could go wrong, but I needed to do this. There was no backing out now.

At twenty minutes to, I grabbed my keys and left.

Our meeting place was an abandoned house that Cash had arranged for me—a derelict old shack. Looking at it from the outside, you wouldn’t expect inside to house a perfectly set-out room. I walked through the hallway, taking in the peeling wallpaper and rotting wood frames, and entered the room.

One room, right up the back of the house.

It was freshly painted a sterile white. Mirrors lined the walls. The white sheets on the four-poster bed, and the steel table and chairs gave the place a very clinical feel.

Three cameras were positioned around the room to ensure every moment was captured.

It was through these cameras that he would be watching.

The highest bidder, paying some exuberant sum to interact in a live rape that would be streamed through a private webpage to his computer.

And I was the rapist. Only, I couldn’t do that. The thought of putting anyone through that kind of pain made me sick. And angry. So fucking angry.

“Hi, Mace.”

I turned around and smiled at Cassandra. Her long, blond hair hung in waves down her back. Her brown eyes looked unusually large as she peered around the room. She had been here before, but I guess, just like for me, this didn’t get any easier for her.

“Cassandra. How are you?” Probably an awkward thing to say to the woman you were about to pretend to rape on camera, but what could I say? I get awkward when I’m shitting myself.

“Good. Nervous.” She looked down, her hands clutching at her handbag. She wore a pretty green sundress that hung just above her knees.

“You don’t have to do this, you know.” I walked toward her, placing my arm on her shoulder. She relaxed and nodded.

“I know. I’m okay. I want to do this. I want to help.”

From the start, I was very open with the women I employed. They knew my family, and most of them had known Anna personally. Her death had rocked the worlds of many people. These girls supported what I was doing. That, and many of them had done much worse than this for a few dollars.

At least I was compensating them well.

“I’m going to have to tie you to that chair.” I pointed to the white steel chair that sat next to the bed. She nodded and began to undress. I turned around to give her some privacy. Privacy? I was about to fuck her under someone else’s direction, and I was concerned about her privacy? This whole thing was twisted.

The truth was, if there were any other way, I wouldn’t be doing this.