Page 82 of Save Me

I push a few buttons, and squint as the bright light from his computer screen hits my eyes. I type in his password, the one I’ve seen him use every time we sit in here together, and after a few more clicks I open the only file on the USB.

It’s a video, and from the tile I can’t make out what it is, the still image dark and blurry. I click it a couple of times, waiting less than a second before the screen is maximized in front of me. My heart thunders in my chest, and I try to convince myself to walk away, to go find Jax and ask him about this. Before I canpersuade myself to leave the room my fingers move quickly to the keyboard and I press play.

It takes me a second to figure out what I’m looking at, the dark lighting and jerky camera movements make me dizzy as I try to focus on the screen in front of me. Bright lights flash, music is blasting, and there’s a sea of people dancing and talking. Heat. This video was taken inside Heat. I watch for a few more minutes, my body instantly alert and my eyes glued to the screen, waiting to see why this video is on a USB in Jax’s office. As if reading my thoughts, the camera pans around the room, and I startle at Bryce’s face looking back at me.

He looks happy, carefree almost, as he throws back a shot to the cheers of those around him, dancing to the music as he reaches for another drink. Whoever is behind the camera passes him one, and the camera moves again, this time landing on me.

The blanket falls of my shoulders as I surge forward, my face now only inches away from the screen. I look at the girl in the video—at me—but I barely recognize myself. My face is gaunt, my eyes are dark, and there are shadows there that I didn’t realize were so obvious. I’m drunk, and probably very high from the looks of it, my movements slow and sloppy. But I’m still smiling, still dancing, and I lean back into a guy who walks up behind me. My eyes don’t leave the screen as I watch Rhett wrap his arms around me, watch myself as I melt into him, angling my head up so he can kiss me. Bile rises in my throat as I watch his lips meet mine as his hands roam over my body, over my chest, and down the middle of my dress. I cringe at how uninhibited I was, how drunk I was, with not a care in the world as Rhett felt me up on the dancefloor in front of hundreds of other people.

This is how Sam saw me so many times.

I shut the thought down, hating this taste of seeing myself through someone else’s eyes, especially during those tumultuous months with Rhett. The camera pans again, and I catch Bryce’sface, catch the uneasy look he gives us as he holds his drink in his hand awkwardly before the camera moves again. I see faces I recognize, not from this night, but from the following day, when they showed up at Poison Ivy when I was working. The video plays for a few more minutes, and I watch myself partying with Rhett and his friends, everyone holding drinks, dancing, talking, and enjoying themselves. Shame rolls through me as I watch Rhett pull a baggie out of his pocket, fishing out few pills before discreetly handing one to me, and putting one in his own mouth. One of the guys, who I don’t know by name, casually walks past him and I see Rhett hand a couple to him as well. So smooth. I wouldn’t have seen it if I hadn’t been watching this video, analyzing every second of it. I can barely hear what’s being said on the video over the sound of my heartbeat. My knuckles are white as I clutch onto the desk, my blanket long forgotten.

“She’s so wasted!” a familiar voice yells over the loud music, and I freeze as I see Tanner step into view. He’s carrying drinks and he hands one to me and two to Rhett, who lets go of my waist to grab the glasses. I down the one I’m holding and only a few seconds later I shoot back the two Rhett had. Something twists in my stomach as I realize no one else is drinking as much as I am. The video jumps forward into a new clip, and I don’t know how much time passed, if I had more to drink or if the drugs had taken effect, but I’m a mess. I’m dancing, or trying to, but leaning heavily on Rhett, his arms basically carrying most of my weight. My motions are slow, and my eyes are half closed, and I watch as the glass in my hand drops to the floor, but the person in the video, the version of myself I barely recognize, doesn’t even realize she dropped the glass. The camera moves quickly scanning the club and it’s weird looking at the remnants of a night spent partying; at the drunk people stumbling around, the subpar music and lightshow, and the laughs and smiles from Rhett and his friends that make my stomach churn.

I’m about to stop the video, no longer wanting to see any more of myself in this sorry state, but it skips ahead again, and this time I bring my hand to my mouth as one of my paintings comes into focus before the camera moves to show my apartment.

I’m biting my nails as my eyes remain on the screen, at the guys milling around my living room and sitting on my couch, their voices loud and unrestrained.

“What are you doing over there? Making a documentary?” someone shouts and the rest of the group roars with laughter.

“Is she like, an artist or something?” the guy behind the camera says, as the video goes back to the stack of canvasses leaning against the wall. “I mean, if you could even call it art.” His narration elicits another roar of laughter before panning back to the group. Someone dumps a bag of coke onto the coffee table, before fishing out a credit card and cutting lines, bending down to snort one. He sits up, wiping the residue from his nose, and pauses, as something off camera catches his attention.

A wide smile forms on his face as he shakes his head. “It sounds like she’s better at doing Rhett than making art.” He chuckles. Something pangs in my chest at the dig, and I know I should stop watching, know I shouldn’t listen to this, but I can’t look away.

“Rhett says she’s the best fuck he’s had in a long time. That’s why he keeps her around, despite Veronica.”

“Speaking of a Lockwood, where the fuck did Bryce end up?”

The guy cutting lines at the table shrugs. “No idea, he bailed before we even left Heat.”

“Lame!” someone off camera yells.

“Seriously, get the camera out of my face… as if I need you recording me doing this,” Tanner says as he comes back into view for a second before the camera turns around, scanning myapartment as the sound of him snorting can be heard in the background.

The guys keep talking, keep doing drugs, until the camera moves once again, focusing on Rhett as he walks down the stairs, a cocky grin on his face as he does up his belt buckle.

“She as good as she sounds?” someone asks, and howls of laugher rip though the room. I close my eyes for a second, reminding myself to breathe as familiar waves of nausea roll through me while a familiar chill makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

“Better,” Rhett says with a lazy smile. “Though, I don’t know what I prefer: nights like this or nights when she’s a more… active… participant.” He laughs and the others follow suit, making crude jokes and glancing upstairs.

The video goes black and I realize the phone is laying facedown on the table. I can hear the guys talking but I can’t see who is saying what. I zone out for a few minutes, until the voices go quiet before I’m pulled back into the conversation.

“If she ever wants to have a threesome, I’ve got dibs on being asked to join.”

“If you think I’m going to stare at Rhett naked while I’m fucking her, you’re delusional.” Tanner’s unmistakable voice sounds loudly. “I don’t want anything except naked chicks near me.”

There’s more laughter until someone cuts in, “You’re acting like you actually have a chance with her.”

“Don’t I?” Tanner’s voice counters. “Unless you’re dating her or something now?” he drawls casually, but I hear the challenge in his voice.

The silence is palpable, and I wait, assuming everyone is looking at Rhett for an answer.

“Fuck no,” Rhett says, and I feel a little piece of me break at his absolute dismissal of me. “Me? Date her?” He laughs with therest of them. “Give me a spin in your new Porsche and I’ll give you a spin with her if she’s down,” Rhett drawls.

“Fine,” Tanner says casually.

My breathing is shallow as I watch the scene unfold before me, as the camera is picked up and follows Tanner and another guy as they walk to the stairs.

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