Page 61 of Where You Are

“What thefuck, Anthony?!” My voice starts to climb to a shriek before I remember we’re in public, and I quickly tamp it down to a snarl. Unfazed, he sits back as if he’d just handed me todays paper and asked me to have a look at the sports section.

I chance another look down at the screen and realize that the camera is angled in such a way that his face isn’t showing, but it’s definitely him and I. Sadly, I still remember every line and contour of his body, and it’s definitely him. I take in a few deep breaths, desperately searching my soul for any remaining scraps or crumbs of courage that might be left.

“So what, are you blackmailing me? With a sex tape? Thatyou’rein?” I ask, my voice shaky and my eyes threatening to sting with tears.

He gives a casual shrug that makes me want to put my fist through his face.

“I have control over what parts of that video are visible, Muffin.”

“I’ll talk to my brother-in-law,” I threaten with my chin up, refusing to show defeat yet. “You can’t film someone without their consent.”

“Good thing you consented then,” he retorts, looking bored.

“What are you talking about?” I demand, leaning across the table further. “I would never consent to this!”

He calmly takes the phone from me and taps on the screen again.

“You were pretty fucking wasted that night, but you consented. Clearly enough to fool the viewer into thinking you were stone-cold sober at the time, I might add.”

He turns the phone back to me and I see myself smiling into the lens as I undo my bra, pulling the straps down.

“You sure you want to do this? For the camera?”his voice can be heard saying, presumably operating the camera.

“Yeah,”I answer, giving the camera a seductive smile. I look excited; it’s disgusting. The camera wobbles as it gets set down on a surface facing what was definitely my bed in my room at the time. Close up, a mirror can be seen lying flat with a white powdery substance on it as Anthony approaches me in the background. As we start to get fully naked, his face stays hidden by his hair or my neck.

I don’t understand. I was far from a prude in those days, but I was not into drugs and sex tapes.

“Yeah,” Anthony reminisces. “You were pretty far gone that night. It’s amazing the things you agreed to.”

I sit in silence, my heart aching and my lungs seemingly unable to get enough air in them.

“Anyway,” he continues, like this is an everyday kind of conversation for him, “I’d hate to see what kind of damage a tape like that could do to your brother and his band. They’ve been taking off the last year and a half, but it’s still a crucial time for them. This is not the kind of attention they need, don’t you agree?”

“Good thing I have a loving and understanding family that will stand by me,” I counter, trying miserably to sound confident.

“You do, I don’t doubt that. Jack wouldn’t even see this as something to forgive, but the fact still remains it could damage his image as well as that of his band, and that’s not something I think you want to see happen is it?”

“Sex tapes are nothing in that industry.” I’m desperate, looking for any flaw I can find in his scheme. “They blow over in fifteen minutes, and in twenty they’re a distant memory,” I snipe at him.

He raises an eyebrow and gives a one-shoulder shrug. “You’re right, which is why I have more.” The asshole has the nerve to chuckle. “That one’s just my favorite. You and me… great memories.” The last two words come out in a whisper that I’m sure he thinks is seductive, but makes my stomach turn over.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“I wasn’t the only guy you slept with in your college days,” he grabs the phone and taps on it again before turning the screen so that I can see myself in more compromising footage with the guy I dated a few months after him; Phil.

“How did you get that one?”

“Does that really matter at this point?” He squints his eyes at me. “You were with quite the parade of guys after me,” he says, obviously trying to make me sound like a shameful whore, but he’s wrong. I had a few casual relationships that sometimes led to sex, and I’m not ashamed of it. And I sure as hell never lost control of myself like I did that one night with him, which I’m feeling pretty certain now is the same night he recorded us, which means he got footage with me and other guys by some kind of underhanded means. “And boy were you ever experimental,” he tacks onto the end, just for fun.

“I definitely didn’t consent to any other videos of me because I never got drunk enough to, and Mike will be all over that when I do go to him.” I’m not looking forward to asking my brother-in-law to help me out of a sex scandal, but I will.

“Oh my little Muffin, no one’s going to give a shit after they see the first one where you obviously do,” he starts to sneer at me. He’s finally losing his patience. “Besides, I’ve carefully put together a diverse team of lawyers that Sarah’s husband will be nothing against.”

You’ve got to be kidding me. Suits and lawyers? Successful career? Blackmail? What the hell as this asshole been up to the last few years?

“And if you’re not worried about your brother’s reputation suffering, fine.” He tosses a hand up. “How about your boyfriend? Matt Conlin’s part of that band too. Is he going to be so understanding? Will his family be?”

I freeze and my mind switches gears, wondering how the hell he knows about Matt and I.

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