Page 176 of Rush of Jealousy

“That must have been horrible.”

“She is my baby sister and so young and impressionable. How could something like this happen? We all wanted answers. Would stop at nothing to get them. Nic and I were able to get Penny to admit that she was an escort and was lured into it by a photographer claiming to help her further her modeling career and put her on the map. She was young and inexperienced. And we all sheltered her in a way. Her going to college was her way of breaking free.”

“Which college?”

“Same one you go to—River Valley U. You two are very close in age, actually. She had a jump start on classes from taking a bunch of credit eligible ones during high school. But she started later than most kids, so she was a bit older. Your paths may have even crossed and not realized it. But she is extremely naive, with the same attraction to danger as you seem to have.”

My eyes twitch at his description of me.

“She was so upset at the hospital that she made me and Nic promise not to tell my parents about the escort service.”

“Was she having sexual relationships with the men?”

“I think so. She won’t talk about it. But the night of the drugging—no one knows. There was no—”

“Physical evidence?”

“Exactly. She can’t even remember. That is what is causing her relapses for her therapies—not knowing. She won’t even open up much to anyone about what she does remember.”

“Not even to the police?”

“Huh,” he scoffs, “the police are useless. Penny wouldn’t even have a leg to stand on because being in the escort service immediately discredits any truth you want to share. No one will believe a word if you were ever to go to trial. Even with a heartfelt testimony over the drugging, it would still seem less impactful due to the lack of credibility. Society still believes that women ‘ask for it’ based on how they dress or act or what they do in their spare time.”

He’s right. There are double standards on sexuality when it comes to men and women. Even recent high-publicity cases where girls were raped, the predators were still able to get community service or be put on light probation. As a result, the victims were worse off because of having to relive their stories during the trials and then see their abusers basically protected. The law definitely does not favor the victim of assault—especially in a society that puts men at the top of the gender list.

“Yeah, I can see that,” I agree. “It sucks though.” And irks every feminist cell in my body. Until men hold themselves accountable for their actions and not try to justify them based on how a female acts, nothing will change. It starts at birth. This whole “boys will be boys” mentality is destructive and inexcusable. How about boys will be good humans? Why can that not be the message parents imbed into their babies’ heads?

“Nic and I spent several months gaining insight on the company she worked for called Illusion Escorts Services. It was a company that catered to the rich. Those who could afford to blow money on easy-access girls loved having the freedom of choice to peruse a database full of flirty pictures and profiles. Nic and I put all of our energy into trying to figure out the logistics of how the company worked.”

“What did you find out?” I ask.

“Illusion Escorts Services was underground and full of corruption—with roots spread up and down the West Coast. I had a suspicion that Penny’s drugging incident was not isolated, but I needed to have more control of the company to gain more information.”

“Okay…”

“Right as I was about to buy up the company, Nic and I were tricked into attending a meeting in regard to a traffic incident. I should have known something was up when we both received different letters in the mail. We were contacted by a division of the FBI doing internal investigations on some underground happenings that we were also personally interested in because of Penny. They had watched us for half a year, gathering up enough information so they could hold it over our heads and get us to do what they wanted. They wanted puppets to control. How someone tipped them off to our data collection means, we’re not sure. But the threat of doing jail time for illegally tampering with security systems, putting tracking devices on humans, and acquiring information without consent through video footage had us both nervous over our wrongdoings. Stalking is a serious crime, and they had a whole file of evidence on what I was doing with my inventions. So, Nic and I didn’t have a choice. We had to sell our souls over to the bureau.”

“What does that mean?”

“We became confidential informants in exchange for our freedom and the guarantee we would not be tried.”

“You work for the FBI?”

“I used to. Not anymore.”

“Does Nic still work for them?”

“Yes. And if you tell anyone, we could all be killed.”

“Why?” This is what I don’t understand. He alluded to this before dinner when we were cut off and had to go inside.

“Snitches are always looked down upon. Bringing down a crime ring has horrible consequences. And I don’t want to live in fear. Not for myself…but for those I love.”

“So you have fake IDs?”

“Yes. And that is why you need to refer to Nic as Dominic Crawford—or you are putting him at risk.”

I nod. Holy shit. My head hurts from all of this.

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