The Pleasure Series: Complete Box Set (77 page)

Chapter 11

By late afternoon the next day, I knew I couldn't concentrate on my work. I kept seeing Rylan with Emmaline. The smug smile on her face and the way she'd been practically preening. The shock on Rylan's face when he'd seen me. And then had come my overactive imagination – or maybe not so overactive since I had nothing to tell me that my thoughts were out of line. I'd seen him kissing her, cupping the back of her head, hand tightening on her waist. They'd go back to his place, of course. Sometimes I saw them in the playroom, Rylan tying Emmaline up, a pleased look on his face when he realized he didn't have to be worried about her freaking out. Worse were the images of him taking her into his bedroom, his bed, making love to her slow and sweet.

He'd moved on, that much was obvious. I closed my laptop with a little more force than necessary and leaned back on the couch with a sigh. Why was I sitting here, alone, throwing myself into work, while he was most likely with Emmaline again? Maybe with someone else. He hadn't exactly been monogamous before we'd started our relationship. It didn't matter. He wasn't with me.

So why the hell was I sitting around my apartment on a Saturday, wondering how I was going to make it through the weekend without wanting to pull my hair out? Work most likely would've been the answer, but I didn't want to work. I wanted to show Rylan that I could move on too, even if he never knew it.

I stood and went into my bedroom. Black miniskirt, tight silver halter top that made my light gray eyes look almost silver themselves. Knee high, heeled leather boots. Black silk panties and matching strapless bra. Once I'd dressed, I went to the mirror and began on the make-up. I'd worn very little when I'd been with Rylan, but I applied it now like I had before. Heavy eye shadow and eyeliner. Lipstick and a touch of rouge. After a moment, I reached into my jewelry box and pulled out my eyebrow ring. The hole hadn't closed up yet and it went back into place easily. The bellybutton one was a bit tight, but there wasn't any blood, so I figured I was good there too.

I looked in the mirror for the full effect. Aside from the hair, I looked like the same person I'd been before I'd met Rylan. That was fine with me. Perfect, actually. I wanted to be that person again. Safe behind my piercings and clothes, behind my attitude. I could dye the hair again, and I would as soon as I decided what color I wanted it to be. I'd never have to think of that dark-haired girl again, never have to talk about my experiences. I would be only Jenna, loner, computer tech. No relationships, no attachments.

I swallowed hard and shoved down all of the emotions that wanted to make themselves known. I'd been fine before and I'd be fine again. I didn't need to be happy. Content was more than I'd ever counted on.

Fort Collins wasn't exactly a party school, but there were a couple of clubs and I caught a bus to the one furthest from my apartment. I paid the cover charge and stepped inside, letting the pulsing music and flashing lights wash over me. It had been a while, but I was confident I could slip back into my old skin.

I made my way down to the dance floor. I didn't want a drink, not wanting to risk doing something stupid. Fucking a random stranger wasn't exactly the smartest thing to do, but doing it too drunk to be in control was definitely stupid.

I started to dance alone, hands above my head, body moving to the rhythm of the music. My hips swayed and I let the music carry me. My eyes stayed open, however. The press of bodies around me wasn't too much for me to handle, especially not moving like this, but I had no one around I trusted enough to watch my back if I closed my eyes. I didn't want to remember that there was only one person I trusted that much to begin with.

I caught a glimpse of a figure turned towards me, a flash of white teeth. A distraction, excellent. The young man who made his way over to me looked like he was probably my age or a bit younger. Probably a CSU student. He was taller than me, but not by a lot, maybe a hair under six feet. His body was lean, but he didn't have that gangly look of a kid who hadn't quite grown into himself.

“Chad,” he yelled above the music. Or it might've been Brad or Thad, but I didn't really care enough to ask again.

“Jenna,” I shouted back.

He grinned and nodded, though I was willing to bet he called me Jen or Jenny at some point tonight, if he remembered my name at all. We began to dance together, learning the rhythm of the other's body. He didn't touch me, but our bodies were close, separated by less than an inch, the heat between us easily felt.

“Want a drink?” he asked, jerking his thumb towards the bar in case I hadn't been able to hear his question.

I shook my head. I always got my own drinks, and I never left my glass unattended. Again, I knew where the stupid line was. After two more songs, I was ready for something and gave Chad / Brad / Thad a smile before heading towards the bar. As I'd hoped, he followed. I got a bottle of water and settled on a chair, waiting while he ordered.

We didn't do much small talk, though I did make sure to clarify that his name was indeed Chad, and then he asked me back to his place. He was a CSU student but had off-campus housing in an apartment building just a couple blocks from the club.

“Perfect,” I said, standing back up again. “Let's go.”

He led the way and it was cold enough that I didn't have to worry about him trying to hold hands or anything romantic while we walked. Both of us kept our hands tucked into our pockets and I wished I'd worn a longer skirt or at least some stockings. The few inches of leg between my boots and the hem of my skirt were freezing by the time we reached Chad's building.

He was on the second floor, so we took the stairs, the climb warming me slightly as we paused in front of his door. With the thaw came the butterflies in my stomach. I frowned. There was no reason for me to be nervous. I'd done things like this dozens of times before.

“Just toss your coat wherever,” he said as we stepped inside.

I hung my coat over the back of a nearby chair as I looked around the apartment. It was smaller than mine, but not by much, and clearly a bachelor pad. Clothes and empty beer cans cluttered the floor and furniture. Everything except the electronics looked second-hand. His television and massive gaming system were clearly brand new.

“You want something to drink?” he asked. “I mean, I don't have much, but I've got beer.”

“No thank you.” I walked over to the couch, but didn't sit down. My nerves were strung tight and I just wanted to get this over with.

I supposed that was a good attitude to have since that's how I'd always felt before. Sex was an itch to scratch, not a connection to be made. I'd let myself forget that over the last few months. It was time I remembered again. I might not have been aroused, but I needed to remind myself of how this should be.

His eyes darkened. They were hazel, I saw. His hair brown. Lighter than I'd originally thought. Not that I'd particularly been paying attention. He had the right build and a place we could be alone. That was good enough.

“Eager to get to it, are you?” He walked over to me and I could smell the sweat and alcohol from the club. It wasn't exactly unpleasant, but I couldn't help but compare it to the memory of Rylan's scent.

I didn't want to think about Rylan, and I didn't want to hear Chad talk anymore.

I reached up and grabbed the back of his neck, pulling him down until our mouths touched. I felt a moment of surprise and then he kissed me back. His hands went around my waist as he pushed his tongue between my lips. I opened my mouth and slid my tongue alongside his. I could taste the tequila he'd drank earlier.

I felt his hand pull up the back of my shirt, the heat of his fingers against my bare skin. I should have felt something. A tingle, at least a pleasurable sensation. All I felt was fingers on skin. It was almost clinical.

His hand slid higher and I felt him fiddling with my bra clasp. I shifted without thinking about it, and he ran his hand around my side, cupping my breast over my bra. His fingers tightened almost painfully, and not in the good kind of way. He ground his hips against me and I could feel his cock hardening. He didn't feel particularly big or small, but it didn't do anything for me.

In fact, none of this was doing anything. He wasn't a bad kisser, but there was none of the physical thrill that should have come with it. He was a bit rough, but nothing that should have turned me off. I knew what the problem was. I didn't want his hands, his mouth. I wanted someone else's touch and nothing else was going to arouse me. I'd thought I could force myself through it; that I could find physical pleasure without any heart behind it and that would break the hold Rylan had on me.

I should have known better.

With a sigh, I stepped back. Chad frowned at me as I straightened my shirt.

“You want to go back to the bedroom?” he asked. “I’ve got condoms out here too, but the couch is a bit small.”

I shook my head. “No. I'm sorry, Chad, but I think I'm just going to go.”

I took a step towards my coat and he grabbed my arm.

“Come on, babe. I'll be good to you.”

I tried to pull away and his grip tightened.

“You can't just walk away.” His expression was hard. “Not after you get me all worked up like that. Dancing the way you were. Kissing me.”

“Let me go.”

“I don't think so.” He gave my arm a yank. “We're going to have some fun. Then you can go.”

I wasn't about to argue with him about it. I knew better than to try to talk to him anymore. I didn't let myself panic either. I took a beat to collect myself and then I twisted around, pushing against his thumb to break his grip. I caught a flash of surprise on his face, quickly followed by anger. I knew what was coming next and acted before he could. My hand closed around his and I yanked his thumb back.

“Fuck!” he yelped.

I ignored him and twisted his arm so that I was able to put the right amount of pressure on his thumb.

“You bitch!”

He started to swing his other hand. Without releasing him, I blocked the attempt and jabbed him in the throat. He coughed, gagged and then gasped. I bent his thumb further and he went down on his knees, still making noises.

“I'm going to go now,” I said calmly. “And if you come after me, I'll make sure you regret it. Are we clear?”

He nodded, glaring up at me. I waited a moment longer, then released his hand and backed towards the door, not taking my eyes off of him. Like I'd said, not entirely stupid. I grabbed my coat and pulled it on as I headed out into the hallway. So much for my night back to normal...

Chapter 12

I was still working from my apartment, but now I was moving on to specific cases. I'd spent Sunday finishing tweaking my programs so I could use them, and on Monday, Agent Matthews had given me a call. His bosses had been impressed that I'd managed to get two complex programs done so quickly, even though he'd explained to them that it had only been adapting things I'd already written. Now they wanted to see things in action.

He sent me an encoded file and that was that.

There'd been pictures in the file, along with as much information as the FBI had on the kids in the pictures. I pulled up each of the pictures, cropping what I needed so that I only had bits and pieces. I could have just highlighted the specific parts of the photos, but I didn't want the full images on my desktop. I'd purposefully tried to keep from seeing more than the pieces I needed, but I knew what was there, even if I didn't see the details.

I chose the little blonde girl's face first. She wasn't smiling, but she didn't look scared. Not yet. I knew that meant she hadn't been born into this. She was probably four or five. By then, I'd known too much. She still looked innocent and unsuspecting.

I swallowed hard as I put the picture into the program. Even if I hadn't seen the pictures in the file that were of the same girl, older, I would've known this photo was at least six or seven years old. She hadn't been innocent for long.

I let the program run, finding all of the places the blonde girl had pictures posted. While it ran, I read through the file. The FBI had found the girl last year. Harmony. She'd been kidnapped and was now with her family again. Her kidnappers were in prison, but they hadn't rolled on their distributors.

A note in the file said that my job was to record all of the places where Harmony's files were found before using my other program to clean things up. I could tell that Agent Matthews didn't entirely understand what I'd done to the files I'd found of myself, but he didn't seem to care, so long as it did the job.

It was true what people said, that once something was on the internet, it was out there forever, but I'd designed a program to...help with that. It pulled specified files into the various internet pockets where only people with some computer skills could find them. And when they were found, a virus would be released, tracing back to the person who'd watched or downloaded the files. Those perverts would be in for a rude awakening when the virus sent all of their personal information to the secure email account I'd set up. I supposed leaving the files out with the virus would've given more opportunities to catch the sick freaks who watched this shit, but I wasn't about to put these kids through the pain and humiliation of having these videos out there for anyone to see. Besides, if my programs worked as well as I thought they were going to, the FBI was still going to have their hands full.

As files came in, I began to collect the information I needed, entering it into the spreadsheet Agent Matthews had given me. It was tedious work, but not bad. The URLs weren't obvious sounding, so it was easy to tell myself that I was just making a spreadsheet of random websites. Harder was the image recognition part. Most of what they pulled in were thumbnails that looked innocent enough, but there were some that were graphic enough to make my stomach twist painfully.

On Wednesday, things got worse.

As I was going through my spreadsheet list, something caught my eye. My heart began to pound. I read it again, hoping that I'd read it wrong. I hadn't. I pulled up my web browser and pasted the URL. I didn't want to go to the website, but I needed to; I had to know.