Behind the Lens (Behind the Lives) (12 page)

Beth
slammed the cover of the laptop shut, absolutely horrified, the whole situation
surreal, like she was locked in a weird dream.

Saul
put the computer back into its case and returned it to under Nike’s seat, then
leaned in close to Beth, whispering, “You’re quite the porn star, aren’t you?”

She
yanked her head away from him, her heart pounding faster than the car, as it
zipped down the motorway. “Why are you doin’ this to me?” she said, barely
getting the words out.

“I
already told you: My boss is interested in you.”

“But
you can’t use me for blackmail, cos both Ash and Dante are done with me.”

“I
think you underestimate your importance to those boys, especially Dante, that
last video incredible viewing, and anyway, right now we don’t intend on telling
them about you, we just want you out of the way so that Kara can play her
little sex games with Dante.”

A
sob escaped from Beth before she could stop herself.

“Yes,”
Saul said, “Dante’s quite the heartbreaker, isn’t he? But it doesn’t matter,
you’ll get him back soon enough, it’s just a matter of how long for.”

“I
don’t understand,” Beth said, feeling like she wanted to throw up.

He
placed a hand on her lap. “You will soon enough.”

“Don’t
touch me!” She scooted as far away as she could.

Saul
smirked. “Usually ladies like me touching them, but one can never account for
taste.”

“You
can’t do this!” Beth shouted. “If I disappear Josie will tell the police who I
wuz with last. She saw you.”

“I
don’t think she’ll cause me any problems, because I’ll be going back for her
later tonight, and unlike you, I think she’ll get into my car without a
problem, the li’l thing was gagging for my cock.”

“I’ll
kill you if you touch her!”

Saul
moved before Beth could scream, his huge hand clamping over her mouth. “You
shouldn’t threaten people who can snap your neck before you can blink. Or shoot
you.” He pulled something out of his... Beth’s eyes latched onto his gun, her
whole body shaking as he placed it against her head. “Have you heard of a game
called Russian roulette?”

She
shook her head, although she had, Rihanna’s song
Russian Roulette
coming
to mind. She’d watched the video over and over again on You Tube. Goosebumps
ran up her arms and legs, the rolling of the gun’s barrel sounding in her head.

Saul
continued, “We have a party coming up for our clients, and one of them asked if
we could find some girls to play a game of Russian roulette. We declined,
because we don’t like our employees dying for whimsical perversions. BUT. You
aren’t an employee, so you better start doing as you’re told. Do you catch my
drift?”

Beth
nodded like there was no tomorrow, which right now was a distinct possibility.

“Good,”
he said. “Now, when we get out of the car, be perfectly polite to young Nike up
front, because I know your yelling is upsetting him, which is very rude,
considering you’re going to be a guest of my boss soon, and bad guests tend to
get hurt. So, smile at everyone you see and walk where I tell you without
complaint.”

Beth
nodded again, although she wanted to scream ‘
No!’
and to beg Nike to take
her home.

Saul
frowned, his expression slowly softening as he stared at her, his eyes almost
black in the dim light of the car. “Don’t move, don’t breathe, stay still so I
can study you,” he said, his sexy voice making her shiver. He brushed a hand down
her cheek, his calloused fingers sending both fear and a thrill across her
skin, which she didn’t understand, nor wanted. “So pretty,” he said, his gaze
roaming her face. “I can see why Dante wanted you, any man would.”

“Please
stop touching me,” she said, barely holding back a sob. She didn’t like the
intensity of his stare. It felt too intimate, like he was inside of her head, and
the way he was touching her suggested he wanted to be inside of her body too.

Saul
dropped his hand, his expression now irritated. “It doesn’t matter what you
want, because you don’t have a say in anything, no one but Craven does.”

“Please,”
she said. “I’m of no use to him. Just take me home and I’ll tell no one.”

He
frowned, then like a light had switched on he grabbed her shoulders and forced
her hard into the door. “You don’t give orders, I do, and if you keep fucking
with my head with your sweet voice I might just fuck you over—”

“Please,
no!” she shouted.

“Oh,
lovely, I didn’t mean literally, I don’t force women, they come to me
willingly. No, I tend to fuck people over in different ways, and usually
through their family.”

“What?”

He
grimaced. “No one is an island. Everyone has loved ones they are willing to do
anything for. Like say, your mother, your father, or what about your
brothers...”

Beth
gasped, a different type of fear now rushing through her.

“By
the way,” he said, “that girl with you earlier looks just like your youngest
brother, so I’m guessing she’s related. Now, what is his name? Samuel? No, that’s
the oldest one. Is it Carl?”

Beth
stared at him, praying he was bluffing, but knowing he wasn’t, the reference to
Corey’s resemblance to Josie proving that Saul had seen him, plus if he knew
about her other brother...

Saul
smiled. “I remember now, it’s Corey. I don’t know how I could’ve forgotten
that, considering he’s such a pretty young thing. When I saw him the other day,
I almost considered telling my boss about him, because he would be perfect for
porn, not to mention my boss’s dick. Corey’s exactly his taste in twinks.”

“No!”
Beth yelled. “He’s got cancer, please, I’ll do anything, just don’t touch
Corey.”

“Anything?”

She
nodded.

“Good,”
he said, leaning towards her. “I might just take you up on that.”

“You
can’t.”

He
cocked his head. “But you offered it freely.”

“It
wuzn’t freely, it wuz for my brother’s safety.”

He
frowned. “Do you think I would touch him?”

She
nodded.

“I
feel kind of insulted by that, because I have no interest in touching boys...
However, my boss—”

“Craven’s
married.”

“I’m
not talking about him.” A slow smile crept across Saul’s face. “I’m talking
about his son.”

8

Dante

Dante was standing in his
backyard, staring at the playhouse that he’d just finished destroying. Police
tape was still stuck to some of the broken pieces of wood, the remnants of his
stepfather’s handiwork. The sick bastard had stuffed a dead man inside Angelo’s
playhouse, a reminder of how lucky they were to get Ash back.

Dante
wiped the sweat off his face and dumped the sledgehammer on the grass, his
hands now shaking without the heavy tool. He pulled out his lighter from his
pocket and sat down on the grass, wishing he could fire up some weed, because
the hit of coke he’d taken earlier had worn off far too fast. But he couldn’t
exactly pull out his clean green joints with his nephew at home. Angelo was now
inside, probably telling on him to Ash for destroying the playhouse, although
the kid had been warned it was going to happen regardless of the tantrums he
threw, and that he would get a new one, but he guessed Angelo was like any
other kid—unable to see past the hour.

Dante
glanced at the garage, wondering whether he could get off his exhausted arse
and grab a few puffs in there. Nah, it would be better if he crashed at his
mate’s place, where he could booze or light up without having to stress about
the kiddiewinks catching a whiff, but then again, maybe he should wait a few
hours until Curtis’s new flatmate was at work, because that crank whore tranny
was plain nasty, and her teeth even nastier. He shuddered.
Nas-ty
. Yeah,
he’d wait a few hours then head over there.
Or
maybe he should just go
to the pub, because if he passed out at Curtis’s, he might risk waking up to
that bitch of a tranny sucking on his dick again.
Jesus
, that had made
him chunder his guts out. You usually woke up from a nightmare, not have one
giving you a blowjob. Looked like he was going to the pub then, but right now
he needed to burn some time. He flicked his lighter on, hovering the flame
under his palm, preferring to feel physical pain over the head-fuck those two
bloody women had given him earlier.

“Dante,
don’t do that!” Kara said, coming up from behind him.

He
jolted in surprise, causing the flame to go higher, licking his palm with the Devil’s
tongue. He swore and shook out his hand, both liking and not liking it, though,
he wished Kara would stop sneaking up on him like some ninja bitch in heat.

Kara
sat down and snatched the lighter off him, then grabbed his injured hand. She
examined the burn, her touch turning him on more than he wanted it to, which
quickly morphed into guilt, the thought of Beth causing him to retract his
hand. He couldn’t believe he’d allowed Kara to take things so far earlier. No,
that wasn’t fair, because he hadn’t allowed it, though, if he was being
truthful, which he really didn’t want to be, he had more than considered
letting her continue, especially since she’d felt so fucking exquisite, with
her huge tits mashed against his chest as she tried to impale herself on his
cock—

He
shook his head to pull his mind out of the gutter. Lately, he’d been wondering
whether he was a sex addict, because at times it was all he could think about,
and when he wasn’t fucking or imagining fucking, he was usually high, boozing,
gambling or singing, the only things that could totally take his mind off
pussy... Okay, maybe not boozing—or the high part, because most of the time he
ended up having sex while off his face, he just didn’t remember it. He shook
his head again, thinking it was unfair to lump
singing
in with that lot,
since it was, along with his family, one of the few good things he had to live
for. Shit, he was being a depressive cunt.

“Earth
to Dante, Earth to Dante,” Kara said, waving a hand in front of his face.

He
blinked, wondering whether the coke
was
still working, because for a
blessed moment he’d forgotten that she was sitting next to him. “What?” he
said, gaining a quizzical look.

“Your
face went blank, like no one was home.”

“I
wish.”

“What
were you thinking about?”

“How
much my life sucks.”

“That’s
not true.”

“Unfortunately,
it is.”

“Where’s
the good-time Dante I used to know, the party-animal who didn’t stress over
anything?”

“He
died when you left.”

She
exhaled loudly, then took a hold of his hand again, exposing his reddened palm.
“Why did you do this, Dante? Because I can’t be the reason for every wrong in
your life.”

“You’re
not, I wuz tryna forget ’bout Beth.” He pulled his hand free and reached for
the lighter.

She
whipped it back. “No you don’t. I’m not letting you scar yourself over that
woman.”

“What
do you care?”

“Because
I love you.”

“Well,
I don’t love you.”
A lie.
  “I love Beth.”
Not a lie.
He pushed to
his feet and headed inside the house. He was sick of Kara’s mind games, because
no one just walked back into someone’s life and declared their love after being
away for three years.

He
snatched his keys off the breakfast bar and went for the front door, his plans
for the pub now on hold.

“Where
are you going?” Kara asked, shadowing him.

“To
Beth’s.”

“Don’t
be silly, you’re better off without her.”

“No,
I’m better off without you.” He jumped down the front steps and strode across
the lawn to his Holden, wishing Kara would stop following him. She grabbed his
arm, making him think of how Beth had done the same thing earlier. But Kara’s
grip was different, her nails longer, which were digging in like she’d done to
his cock.

He
jerked his arm free, getting his flesh scraped in the process. “I wish you
never came back. You fucked with my head three years ago and now you’re doin’
it again.”

“I
understand you’re upset with me, but if you go to Beth like this, you’ll only
make matters worse.”

“So,
you’re suddenly concerned ’bout my relationship with her?” he asked, laying on
the sarcasm.

“More
like, I’m concerned about
you
, and you broke up with that witch, so
there’s no relationship to speak of.”

“Cos
of you!” He jumped into his car and locked it before Kara could stop him. She
hit his window as he started the engine, then flung her hands up in the air as
he reversed out, the drama queen finally making an appearance. Despite his
anger, he stopped at the end of the driveway to take one last look at her. She
smiled, probably thinking he had changed his mind, which he hadn’t, he just
wanted to see what he was giving up—someone who he would always love, no matter
how much she pissed him off.

She
started walking towards him. Afraid she would change his mind, he went to back
onto the road, but instead planted a foot on the brake as a tow truck pulled up
behind him. He wound down the window and hollered: “Move it!”

Two
men got out of the truck and headed towards him. Recognising the fat one, Dante
quickly jumped out of his car and extended his hands, panic now flooding every
Holden-worshipping-bone in his body. “No, dude, you can’t take my car.”

The
big man stopped a few feet away. His gut was protruding like he was
eight-months’ pregnant while his double chin resembled a pelican’s gullet,
which wobbled as he spoke. “Sorry, mate, but you’ve been given enough warnings
about your repayments.”

“But,
I posted a cheque yesterday.”

The
man rolled his eyes. “Drop the clichés, because we all know you never sent a
cheque, and regardless, if by some miracle you did, it wasn’t received on time,
and neither were the prior payments, that you claimed were
all
mailed,
which means we’re taking the car back.”

“But
it’s mine, and look—” Dante pointed at the bullet holes, “—it’s been damaged,
so you can’t sell it.”

“Those
panels can be replaced.”

“But,
I’ve already paid a shitload.”

“That’s
not my problem.”

The
other man, who looked similar to the big guy, just fifty kilos lighter, started
walking towards the car.

Dante
stepped in front of him. “Back off!”

The
man retreated behind his mate, who shook his head at Dante, making his double
chin wobble even more. “If you attack us we’ll go to the police and then
they
will take your car, because I’ll
be reporting you for both assault and
theft.”

“You
got it wrong, I wuzn’t gonna attack him, I’m just desperate. I love my car;
please just gimme a li’l more time.”

“You’ve
had enough time.”

“But
I can get ya the money next week; my boss owes me a shitload.”

“Sorry,
it’s too late.”

“It
can’t be,” Dante said, holding out his hands again. “Look, I can make things
worth your time.” He lowered his voice. “If you hold off, I’ll give ya some
free drugs.”

The
fat guy smiled. “Depends on what and how much.”

“Can’t
discuss it out here, let’s go inside,” he said, glancing to his right. A couple
of doors down his nosey neighbour, old man Murphy, was watching them intently.

The
repo men and Dante headed inside, with Kara following close behind. The two men
plonked themselves down on the old leather couch in the lounge, the bigger of
the two stating he wanted meth.

“Sorry,
dude,” Dante said, “that’s the only shit I don’t sell, but I can give ya coke
instead.”

“Okay,
then get me four grams.”

“That
costs over a grand,” Dante said, thinking the idiot probably thought coke cost
the same as meth.

The
guy smiled. “I know.”

“Then
why the fuck ya asking for? We don’t fuckin’ live in Panama. I sell a gram for
three hundred bucks.”

The
man pushed to his feet. “If you’re gonna get agro, I’m not interested.”

Dante
shot in front of the door. “No, dude, I’m sorry, ’kay, no harm done, we can
work sumpthin’ out, just sit back down, gimme a chance.”

“Only
if you give me the coke.”

“I
can’t do that, how ’bout weed instead?”

“I’m
not interested in smelling like a teenage stoner.”

“What
’bout Acid?”

“Yeah,
sure...”

Dante
breathed out in relief, because that shit didn’t cost the world.

“...I’ll
take fifteen tabs.”

Dante’s
heart sank again, because the fat bastard obviously knew his drugs. “That’s way
too much.”

The
man grunted. “What are ya, a Scotsman? Stop being a tight-fisted cunt and hand
them over.”

“If
I wuz tight-fisted you wouldn’t be here, so quit busting my balls and take
six.”

“No,
ten.”

“C’mon,
that’s worth seven hundred dollars.”

“Don’t
bullshit me, they’re forty bucks a hit, so stop fuckin’ me around and get me
what I asked for.”

“I
can’t.”

“Then
gimme your car keys.”

“’Kay!”
Dante yelled, now seething. “I’ll fuckin’ get you ten.”

“Plus,
throw in a baggie of weed.”

“You
said you didn’t want it!”

The
man smiled. “I don’t, but you fucked me off.” He patted his stomach. “Plus, I
do like brownies.”

Dante
clenched his hands, wanting to fill the fat bastard with something else,
preferably lead based. “We made a deal for ten tabs.”

“And
you made a deal to pay off your car, so get a move on before I decide I want two
baggies.”

Dante
pointed a finger at him. “Only if ya gimme a month to pay off the loan.”

“Cut
that to five days.”

“You
fuckin’ kidding me?!”

“Not
unless you want to part with the four grams of coke.”

“Make
it two weeks then.”

“Two
weeks equals two grams.”

“Like
hell it does!”

“Then
take the five days or I’m walking outta here with your car keys.”

“’Kay!”
Dante snapped. “Five fuckin’ days!”

“Actually.”
The man glanced at Kara. “I might consider upping it to a week if Miss Pretty
Bruised sits on my lap.”

Dante
went to lunge at the bastard. Kara shot in front of him. “Don’t, Dante.”

He
narrowed his eyes at the fat cunt, the guy grinning like he’d told the best
joke ever. “Apologise.”

“Only
if you do the same.”

“What
the fuck for?”

“For
hitting Miss Pretty.”

“I
didn’t hit her! Her husband did!”

The
fat guy exhaled. “Whatever; just give me what I asked for.”

“Once
I get my bro to watch you.”

“Fine.”

“Ash!”
Dante hollered. “I need ya. NOW!”

A
door banged, then Ash rushed into the lounge, his worried gaze taking in his
surroundings. “What’s happening?” he asked, looking like he wanted to plant his
fists into the repo guys’ faces—which Dante was aching to do also.