Page 340 of Tis the Season to be Bullied

“It’s his birthday, Jess,” Dylan says as he appears in the shot wearing his white baseball cap and slings an arm over my shoulder.

“Yeah, Jess,” Marcus parrots. “It’s his fucking birthday.”

Jess scowls at Dylan, and then her gaze returns to Marcus as she drains what’s left of my cup. She staggers a little and then takes a few gulps from her own.

She’s just as drunk as I am—perhaps even more—but how couldn’t she have tasted the vodka in her cup? It must have beenstrong as fuck. Jess never liked hard liquor. Beer was always her first choice, then wine. But she’s throwing back her drink like it’s watered-down beer.

“I hope you’re gonna put out for my buddy tonight,” Marcus says, handing a lit cigarette to me. Smoke briefly obscures the video. “Seeing it’s his birthday and all.”

Jessica’s mouth drops open as she turns to me. “You told him?”

My grin widens.

Christ. I’m so far gone, I don’t even realize how much shit I’m getting into.

Marcus lets out a low chuckle and reaches for Jessica’s shoulder. She shrugs him off immediately, throwing him another heated glare.

“Ssstop it,” Jessica slurs.

“Think your girl’s a bit fucked,” Marcus says. The shot focuses on Jessica’s face, and she swats him away as she twists her mouth in disgust.

The camera jolts and noise stutters through the laptop’s speakers. I hurriedly lower the volume, glancing over my shoulder at the closed door behind me. It’s ridiculous to feel paranoid in an empty house, but I can’t help it.

Thisis the video Addy sent me. It’s much higher quality, but there’s no mistaking where this was taken.

Really still think Addy sent you this?

My hands curl into fists on either side of the laptop and I close my eyes in utter disbelief. I never suspected Marcus, because evidence against me would be evidence against him covering up for me. But if it was Addy blackmailing me…?

His plan fell through. Or maybe he hadn’t thought it out well enough.

“Tell you what, bro. I’ll help you get the princess to bed, yeah?”

“Bed sounds good,” I say. “Don’t it, Jess?”

She giggles at me.

The video ends.

I stare at the square of black on the laptop screen, my heart thundering in my chest.

But then, a new video begins playing.

Jess (6)

The last video.

A black screen. The sound of breathing, shoes sloughing over carpet, fabric rustling.

“She’s so fucking trashed, bro,” Marcus says.

“Tha’ was the point, wa’nt it?” I slur back.

“Almost there,” Marcus says.

“Jess? Still with us?” I ask.

There’s the faint outline of a doorway. A silhouette approaches it. Opens the door. A low light from inside splashes over the guy’s face.

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