Page 143 of Cam Girl

“Yes,” Mask answers. “As I’m sure you realize, this is nothing personal. It’s my payday. The fans are expecting a certain level of quality and content. Although they do like it more when my actors aren’t entirely willing.”

The dark fucking web. Holy shit.

Gilli hadn’t known what she stepped into when she first made her online content, and to be fair, who would have guessed she’d be the target of a madman?

“Whatever you want,I’lldo it,” she rushes to say. “Leave them alone and I’ll do anything. Everything.”

Mask apparently finds this terribly amusing. His shoulders and chest vibrate with silent laughter.

“Youhave no choice, beautiful. And you aren’t going to be working alone. Your stepbrother wants to play as well, doesn’t he? The fans certainly do enjoy theforbidden loveangle.” Mask chuckles darkly. “They’d like it better if you were blood-related, and they’d go positively head over heels if it was nonconsensual.”

Oh, god. I’m gonna vomit. I’m going to fucking lose it all over the floor.

“Whatever it takes,” Gilli repeats desperately. “I’ll play the part.”

She’s willing to participate to get the heat off of us, but I’m not willing to let her.

“No! Use me, alone,” I urge, my voice gravelly and my throat in agony. “Use me instead of her.”

“Sorry, son, it’s going to be the both of you. And no time like the present.”

The nearest thug rolls me over, purposefully rough. But from this angle I’m staring straight at Gilli and she shares a look with me that reeks of trouble.

There’s something in her expression?—

She’s got a plan.

I shake my head once, vehemently. We’re both in harm’s way but I’m not willing to let her try anything stupid. She’s already got a swollen spot on her brow where they hit her.

“Boys,” Mask says, “undo her ties. She’s not going anywhere.”

The one with the bat, satisfied that Aiden isn’t a threat, swings the wood over his shoulder and heads back to continue setting up the camera and lights. The second one sets the rifle down on top of the counter where I can’t reach it.

The snick of a switchblade being opened, and one of the goons slices through the ties around Gilli. He grabs her by the arm and throws her against the back of the couch while Mask watches the proceedings like some feudal overlord who isn’t ready to get his own hands bloody. Yet.

“Draw the curtains,” he orders, like he can’t believe he has to say it a second time. “And you, my beauty, will start with a solo performance. Then we’ll add in our guest of honor. The fans are quite excited to see you after all the trouble we’ve gone through to get you. I’ve been hyping them up in your absence.”

Gilli swallows hard, and swipes her hand through her hair. “I’d do better with my glasses,” she tells him. “Can you find them for me?”

Mask studies her from behind the comfort of anonymity. If by some miracle we make it out of here, I’m going to choke the life out of him, slowly. I’m going to rip the mask off and force him to eat it while I strangle him. How aboutthatfor his fans?

“No. Stand by the curtains. Take off your clothing slowly. Piece by piece.”

He knows we’re not going anywhere. We’re not leaving Aiden here, and his men are faster, stronger, than we are.

“We’re going to have you put on a show to remember.” Mask drops his tone to a whisper, laden with intent. “And you’re going to enjoy every minute of it or we’ll all know.”

One goon flips on the ring light while the other adjusts the lights overhead to a dull glow.

Gilli rubs her hands over her face a final time and fluffsher hair before she moves to the place Mask indicated. Tears still flow and smear her makeup unmistakably. His fans will probably like that.

I struggle harder against my own ties like it will somehow change the situation. Newsflash: It changes nothing.

Her attention locks on me a final time, then drops her gaze to Aiden, before Mask shifts. He draws his cell phone out of his pocket, adjusting it on the tripod before scrolling across the screen.

“There now. It’s showtime. You’re on live feed, beauty.”

Gilli says nothing. She starts to move to a music none of us can hear. Whatever beat is in her head, she closes her eyes, biting down on her lip like she’s trying to pretend to be anywhere other than here.

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