Chapter 18

Sunlight streamed through the blinds, painting golden stripes across my face. I blinked, disoriented, the remnants of a dream clinging to the edges of my consciousness. The dream, if that's what it was, had been vivid. Then... I tasted it in my mouth. I gagged and turned over, realized that I was in a bed. The images flashed through my mind. The darkness, the relentless thrust of that man's cock in my mouth. My mind conjured more things that I only half remembered, but my heart hammered against my ribs, the phantom sensation of rough ropes still biting into my wrists and ankles.
Sitting up in bed, I surveyed my surroundings. It was my apartment, familiar and comforting. The kidnapping, the cold, damp room – I wished it was just a nightmare, a twisted manifestation of my anxieties about Quinton, but I could taste it. I could still feel it.
Just to be sure, I reached for my phone. I looked down, realizing I was in some robe that wasn't mine. With trembling fingers, I dialed the company number, the one Sebastian's assistant had used for the "reshoots."
"Hello," came a cheerful voice on the other end.
"Hi," I replied, my voice a little shaky. "This is Yvonne. I was wondering about the reshoot that was supposed to happen..."
There was a beat of silence on the other end, then a hesitant cough.
"Ah, Yvonne," the voice finally responded, a touch too smoothly. "Yes, the reshoot. Yes, it did happen."
"I... I never made it to the studio."
"Oh, but you did. It was all planned."
"What?" I shuddered, my blood running cold.
"Yes. It was planned and taped, just as it was scripted."
"You... You can't do that," I said.
"What?"
"You kidnapped me!" I yelled. "You... You let them... They... You didn't-- No one even told me--"
"Yvonne," the assistant said. "This is the porn industry. Are you really surprised?"
I blinked.
"It's a trending subgenre. Kidnapping. Given your enthusiasm to get higher up in the rankings, and your inexperience, you were the best choice, and if you read your contract more carefully, you were forewarned."
I felt sick, and before they could say anything else, I hung up. The phone rang, but I didn't answer it. I choked, a primal scream threatened to erupt out of me. They were denying it, of course. But the terror, the helplessness – it was all too real. I went to find my contract to be sure, and it didn't take any time to find the part where it said that at their discretion they would put me in situations with or without my knowledge.
I found the clause about what it would cost me to break the contract, too. Sleeping with Sebastian for the role felt even more wrong, now. I threw my phone across the room, and sank back against the pillows, my breath coming in ragged gasps.
There was nothing I could do, but I wasn't going to just sit here and... And wallow in it. They weren't pretending that it hadn't happened. They were going to profit off that horrible experience, and that wasn't the worst part of it.
Fear mixed with a cold anger that burned in the pit of my stomach. My body throbbed with a dull ache, a constant reminder of the nightmare that clung to me like a second skin. There were no visible marks, no bruises or cuts, but the pain was real, a dull throb echoing in my muscles and a pulsing ache in my head. Maybe it had been longer than I thought if there wasn't a mark. He'd hit me hard.
And the chilling memory of it all, the sense of being utterly helpless, and a terrifying awareness that the attackers had inflicted the pain with a malicious glee made me ill. I rushed to the bathroom as my stomach heaved.
The more I replayed the events in my mind, the more convinced I became that not only had they been hired by the company, but that they had enjoyed it too much.
They'd targeted me for some reason, or they would target me again. They'd brought me back her... They knew where I lived. What would stop them from doing it again?
A cold sweat prickled my skin. How else could they have gotten my address? Who exactlh ad my address? It was in my file. I felt stupid for letting them know where I lived. I felt stupid for signing this contract that didn't even protect me.
I felt stupid for thinking that Sebastian had actually been trying to help me back when he hired me.
I was an employee.
Replaceable. Dispensable. Trapped.
I didn't have to stay trapped. I didn't have to stay this helpless. I looked around. Panic clawed at my throat. My apartment, once a haven, now felt like unfamiliar. Between Quinton and this, the walls seemed to close in, the familiar surroundings morphing into a place of unseen danger. I couldn't stay here, not anymore.
I started packing. Clothes, essentials, anything I could carry. The frantic movements were a way to channel the terror, to push back the fear that threatened to paralyze me. I knew it wouldn't be easy finding a new place on such short notice, but staying here was simply not an option. I'd have to change my address on record. Get a PO box or something.
As I stuffed my belongings into a suitcase, a chilling realization dawned on me. There was no way I could really get out of this. I still had years on my contract, and no prospects for a job. Even if I started looking now... What hope would I have? Tears streamed down my face thinking that the bastard who had raped me and enjoyed it on camera had been in my house.
At least Quinton had just enjoyed it in private.
Why like this? Why me?
The uncertainty gnawed at me, but one thing was clear I had to disappear, to find a way to only interact with the company on my terms.