Page 126 of Injustice and Absolution

He was born Henry Andrew James, Jr. in Orange County, California to rich parents: Henry Andrew James, Sr. and Beverly Sullivan-James. The kid has a rap sheet a mile long, ending with a brief stay at a juvenile detention center outside of Newport.

Nothing else could be found on him until after he showed up in Harrisburg, Pennsylvania as Drew Sullivan. The only thing linking the two lives is a wire transfer from an Orange County bank to a brand-new account established at a Dauphin County bank in the sum of $500K.

It made me wonder if his well-off parents paid him to disappear. To get their troublemaking son off their backs.

The second piece of information that Cyber was able to unearth for me knocked me on my fucking ass.

He found a video of Delilah on the dark web. It led him to an underground site titled, The Destruction of Delilah,which hosts hundreds of video and audio clips of her. Cyber got me set up with a VPN and everything else I needed to be able to access it.

There’s a credit card I use from time to time that’s connected to an alias. I used it to purchase a membership to the site without my name getting flagged. I didn’t want to make any move that could possiblyalert Drew that we were onto him.

Once I obtained full access, what I saw on that site with my own eyes sickened me to no end. It’s one of the most disgusting things I've ever seen in my entire life.

And I’ve seen some shit.

The audio clips and videos were posted almost like a day-in-the-life diary and detailed how the owner of the page is breaking her down little by little to mold her into the perfect submissive whore.

I immediately recognized the very first audio clip listed.

Popping Delilah’s Cherry

I’d heard it before, only I was the one recording it at the time.

Though this clip had been edited, taking out the part where she mentioned the last guy she’d had sex with—me—to make it appear as though she was a virgin.

Hearing it again and knowing I was no better than Drew at that time, knocked the wind out of me.

There were countless videos of her doing various things from menial chores around the house, using the bathroom, and showering, to stripping and giving lap dances at Spotlight. He must have hidden cameras catching every fucking angle inside both the club and his house.

The caption of one video in particular caught my eye. As horrific as it was, even now, I can’t erase the memory of it from my mind.

* * *

One Week Earlier

Delilah’s Punishment

The caption pulls me in as my stomach sours.

The video is dated the day after I went to see her at the club, and my heart drops immediately. Without thinking, I click on it. I can’t bring myself to stop it once it begins.

I watch her, terrified anxiety written all over her face as she pleads with that sick fuck to forgive her for lying to him—about me, the thought of which fucking kills me—as she tells him she’ll do anything to make it right.

The way he makes her pay for it is horrific. The manipulation and grooming in just this video alone are alarming, and I fucking kick myself all over again for not throwing her over my shoulder and bringing her back here the moment she stepped foot out of that club last week.

It reinforces my thirst for vengeance against him. When the video ends, there is a message letting the viewer know they can experience Delilah for themselves by making an appointment.

I see red.

Following the instructions, I open the site’s menu and click on “Appointments” as my rage morphs into molten lava.

See Delilah in Person at:

Spotlight Nightclub

709 Senator Way

Harrisburg, PA.

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