Page 128 of Triggered By Love
“Then why don’t you watch it now?” Avery asked. “I’m not in the mood anymore. Jason is disgusting. He’s high as a fucking kite.”
“Me? Disgusting? What about you?” Jason plopped on the bed and snarled at her. “Did you fuck the professor? Is that how you got started?”
Avery cocked her fist back and punched him square in the jaw. “How dare you. How fucking dare you?”
The whirring of the wheelchair announced Orson’s presence. He’d zipped himself up and bumped himself to the foot of the bed.
“Well? Avery,” Jason demanded. “Was the old geezer your first?”
“Tell him, Avery.” The professor wagged his finger at Avery as if she were a very naughty girl. “I never touched you. I only watched. I always watched.”
“Watched who?” Jason turned his attention to the professor. Even Larry lowered the gun and stared at his father.
“No one,” Avery shrieked. “Nothing happened.”
“Someone had sex with you the first time. Who?” Jason’s eyes were wild, but focused accusingly on her.
“It wasn’t Professor Leach,” Avery said. “It’s nobody.”
“Then why are they holding it over you?” Jason asked. “It has to be one of them. I vote for the professor. He raped you, didn’t he?”
“I most certainly did not. I have been protecting you, my dear.” Orson placed his sticky hand on Avery’s arm. It was all she could do not to shriek with revulsion. “If I didn’t hold it over him on your behalf, he would have trafficked you to his colleagues.”
“Who?” both Jason and Larry asked.
Orson grinned, the closemouthed way a priest would while giving the benediction. “That’s the million-dollar question, isn’t it? I protect you and your reputation, and you do private shows for me. I’m disappointed this year. You didn’t decorate your model, and he can’t get it up for you.”
“That’s a lie,” Jason growled. He pointed at the professor, causing Larry to wave the gun. “I’m arresting you. Both of you for the murders of Garm Guillory and Hugh Longshanks.”
“For what? They came to a party and got high. Is it my fault they kept going and going until they overdosed?”
“It’s still suspicious as hell,” Jason said. “I’m sure I can get the charges to stick.”
“That’s where you’re wrong,” Larry argued. “We have video of the two of you. You admitted to being high on meth.”
“You injected me.” Jason’s voice was shaking.
“I can edit the video.” Larry laughed. “Stop wasting time. The meth high isn’t going to last forever, and my dad wants to see you make love to her.”
He made air quotes around the words “make love” and said it in a squeaky, mocking voice, then added, “Except we’ll claim you raped Avery, and that is the reason you won’t be telling a soul about this little adventure.”
“Get on with it.” The professor clapped his hands. “You two voluntarily came to my house. You signed a waiver. Photos and videos were taken of you taking drugs. You signed away your right to litigation. I never laid a hand on you, only myself.”
“I never signed away my rights when I was fourteen,” Avery said, surprising herself with her boldness. “You claim to have photos and videos from then too, but you know what? I think you’re bluffing.”
Beside her, she could feel anger boiling in every one of Jason’s blood cells. His muscles hardened, and he lunged toward the professor.
“Don’t.” Avery restrained him. “He’s got a gun on you.”
“I don’t care. He can’t hold it over you. You were only fourteen.”
“You’re like my baby girl,” Orson taunted while Larry stood behind him, holding a pistol. “Every year, I take pictures and videos. Starting when you were buck naked as a newborn.”
“My mom wouldn’t have let you,” Avery protested, although she honestly couldn’t be sure. Her mother was the naïve type who believed there was a spark of divinity in each person.
“I’m your Uncle Orson,” the professor said in a sing-song voice. “You kids used to come to my swimming pool. You didn’t think I had peepholes in the cabana?”
“I could get you for child pornography,” Jason fumed. “Where are the pictures?”
