—John Fletcher

"Are you sure you've got everything you need, darling?" Julian asked while slipping into his leather jacket.

"Yes. The turkey's in the oven, so the hardest part is done." I had made a total mess of Julian's kitchen in preparation for, what he called, our Thanks-taking feast.

The ticking clock above the stove read almost noon. I still had all of the side dishes to prepare, but with Julian heading off to dialysis for four hours, and Mason not showing up until six, I figured that I had plenty of time to finish cooking and then clean up.

"Okay. I'll be back soon. It already smells really good in here." He kissed my lips hurriedly and bolted towards the door, to make his appointment on time. "Ring me if you need anything. I love you."

"I love you, too," I called back, but he was already out the door.

A row of green, ripe, Granny Smith apples awaited me on the counter. I washed, peeled, and sliced them into a waiting baking dish, which was lined with raw pie crust and sprinkled with cinnamon and sugar.

Once I finished assembling the classic American pie that I was sure Julian would get a kick out of, I moved onto washing and halving the sweet potatoes. Those, I would bake once it got closer to dinner time. For the time being, I just lined a baking sheet with oil, topped the sweet potatoes with spices, and popped the whole sheet into the cool fridge to rest.

While it was on my mind, I leisurely set the kitchen table with silverware, napkins, and empty glasses. Being the classic male that he was, Julian had no candles or decorative centerpieces for me to utilize, but the table still looked very nice and presentable regardless, especially with the black tablecloth beneath the settings.

After handling the raw turkey, I felt a bit unclean. With time still on my side, I decided to take a relaxing shower, allowing the steam to open up and clean my profusely sweating pores. I stayed in the bathroom a little longer than I should have, getting a makeshift massage from the soothing stream.

It was only after I dried off with a big, fluffy, blue towel that I realized I didn't have a clean change of clothes.

For much too long, I had been rotating the clothes that Nina gave to me, along with the one outfit I had arrived in. Time hadn't been my friend before, but things were better now. I really needed to find a mall and buy some jeans and tops, especially since I had no plans to leave London any time soon.

I'd left my purse in Julian's car the night before, so maybe I could go get an outfit after dinner, I thought.

As a quick fix for my small dilemma, I grabbed one of Julian's baggy, black t-shirts from his closet, slipped it over my head, and brought my dirty laundry to his washing machine.

Intermittently, between cleaning the kitchen and sweeping the floor, I checked on the turkey to make sure it was cooking properly. I continued to baste it with a spicy broth. The skin was browning perfectly, and the whole apartment was full of delicious aromas. If he thought it smelled good in the flat when he left, I wondered what Julian would have to say when he walked back in.

Somehow, 4:12 p.m. rolled around and Julian was due to be home any minute. I remembered I still had to make regular mashed potatoes as a side, so I filled a big pot with water from the sink, generously sprinkled salt into the water, and placed it over medium-high heat to begin boiling.

While I was at the stove again, I grabbed an oven mitt to check the turkey one more time. Just as I did, there was a knock at the door. Maybe Julian forgot his key, I thought, as I set the oven mitt down on the counter and ran to the door.

When I opened it, I stumbled back a bit. Mason had arrived early, and I wasn't at all ready for him. Still, I opened the door for him to enter.

"Hey, Brooke. Haven't seen ya in ages." Mason took in my appearance. Julian's shirt was long enough on me to reach the middle of my thighs, but I yanked at the bottom hem of the fabric, trying to stretch it down towards my knees. "I know I'm early. Mind if I come in?"

As I was looking down to concentrate on my inappropriate clothing, I heard another familiar voice behind Mason.

"Hello, Blair," Devon said as he stepped inside the apartment, taking notice of my appearance and embarrassed expression. "Don't worry. We're all friends here, aren't we?"

"Smells nice in here," Mason said. "Where's Julian?"

"He's at dialysis." My cheeks flushed in humiliation as I thought of an escape route to get changed. "Sorry, we weren't expecting you for another two hours almost."

"It's cool, we can wait," Devon butted in.

"Why are you here?" I asked Devon as he nosily looked around Julian's place.

"To eat. Maybe more." He chuckled and I immediately felt uneasy. Devon looked satisfied with his own bravado.

"You weren't invited." I could feel my heart pumping faster.

Where was Julian, and why was he taking so long to get home?

"I'm inviting myself then," Devon said, laughing to himself.

"No. I'm sorry, Devon, but you really need to leave." I pulled at the long t-shirt, forcing it to reach my knees.

"And why's that?" He slanted an eye at me, while turning up his chin.

"You're a trigger for Julian." It occurred to me that I was protecting Julian, in the same way he used to protect me by eliminating temptations of alcohol. Except, in this case, it was a person. A terrible, rotten person. "He can't be around you. Not right now, at least."

"If he can't be around me because I'm a trigger," Devon chuckled, "then he can't be around Mase either, now can he?"

"What?" I didn't at all follow.

"Nothing." Devon laughed heartily, making me feel like I was missing something. I looked over at Mason, who was sitting at the kitchen table, fiddling with his phone and seemingly ignoring our conversation.

"Please leave, Devon." I stared at the clock, 4:25 p.m. Where are you, Jules?

"I'm not going anywhere, Yoko Ono," he said, looking around the kitchen. "This isn't your flat, so what right do you have, telling me to leave?"

"Fine. I'll get the person whose flat it is, to tell you to leave." I trotted over to the living room to find my cell phone, but before my fingers could grab it from the couch, I was lying flat out, on the floor.

"I don't think so, bitch," Devon said, standing over me. I tried to stand back up again, but my knees were achingfrom the hard and sudden fall. "Ha, look at this... not wearing any knickers either. What kind of fucking game are you playing, huh?"

My eyes went wide with fear and consternation as I grasped what was happening. Although I was able to get back to my feet, Devon was cornering me, and my phone was flung across the ground, much too far out of my reach.

"Mason," I called to the kitchen as calmly as I could, without taking my eyes off of Devon.

"Mason," Devon mimicked me in a whiny voice.

"What are you doing, Devon?" I tried to keep my voice steady at first. All the sweat I had rinsed away in the shower had returned. Even my palms, and the webbings of my fingers, were sweating.

"Don't you remember what I told you a long time ago, Blair?" Devon inched toward me, backing me further against the wall. "I told you that you were one of my favorites yet."

"You're high. You must be." I tried to gulp down the lump in my throat, but it wouldn't budge, and since Devon was blocking my view, I couldn't see into the kitchen. "Mason, please."

"I'm not high." Devon cackled. "And why are you calling for Mason?"

"You're going to hurt me." Even more than he already had. I could feel the sweat collecting on my eyelids as my stomach churned. My rapidly firing mind was sending warning flares that I couldn't act upon. Julian, where are you?

"I'm not going to do anything you haven't invited." Devon eyed me like a rabid beast. His impish grin made the bile rise in the back of my throat.

"Mason, please..." Tears were starting to spill down my cheeks as my absolute desperation grew. "Mason!"

"Would you shut the fuck up already?!" Mason yelled from the kitchen.

The abhorrent sound of Devon's vile laughter, combined with what Mason had just said to me, made my head spin. My stomach turned to ice.

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Devon called over his shoulder.

"Yeah, I think so." Mason stood, still somewhat focused on his phone.

"What are you going to do to me?" Every nerve in my body was shocked awake, urging me to run. But I couldn't. "Please don't. Whatever you're thinking about doing. Julian will be back soon and—"

"Oh, nooo!" Devon drew out the word, thoroughly mocking me, while sending a frigid shiver up my spine. "You didn'tactually think you were special, did you? I'm gutted."

My heart pounded in my ears, collecting fluid there, so I could hardly hear words.

"You're just another groupie whore we're going to share," Devon said, and looked to his Rolex. "All we need's a few minutes, anyway. We're not trying to romance you."

For a moment, I stopped breathing completely.

"What do you say, Mase?" Devon said. "Ready to get a taste of what has Julian so whipped?"

With adrenaline pumping heavily through my veins, I used all of my strength to slap Devon across the face. His hand immediately flew up to rub his red, imprinted cheek. Without saying a word, he smiled.

It was a terrifying, toothy grin.

I stared at him, violently trembling. He wasn't speaking, nor was he looking directly at me.

From out of nowhere, Devon grabbed me by the throat and pushed me back onto the couch while choking the air out of me. Somewhere in the middle of our struggle, he broke my arrow necklace, as I heard it fall to the floor with a distinctive ping.

As soon as Devon let go of my neck, I screamed a blood-curdling sound with the last bit of oxygen I had stored in my lungs. Midway through it, I felt the sting of a hard hand across one side of my face, and then the other.

"If you know what's good for you, you'll shut the fuck up!" Devon warned. His cold, blue eyes were burning into me, and I could do nothing but take him seriously.

Just then, Mason walked over to the couch, coming fully into my line of vision.

"What are you doing to me?" Devon held my arms above my head, but I still tried to kick at him.

"Hold this slut's arms," Devon said, ignoring me.

"Don't do this to me," I pleaded hoarsely.

"Oh, it won't be so bad, Blair." Devon pinched my face and intentionally twisted the skin of my cheek before letting go. "See, you fucked Julian on the first night you met him, didn't you? But we've known you for ages now, so it'll be much better—romantic, even. At least you know us."

Mason gripped my wrists in one hand while yanking my hair back with the other.

"STOP IT!" I cried.

"Stop what? Stop pretending like you don't love this," Devon said. "Just enjoy the attention."

Devon stepped on my feet and shimmied Julian's t-shirt up to my neck, completely exposing me.

"GET THE FUCK OFF OF ME!" My scream was guttural.

"I guess I can see the appeal." Mason stroked my bare collarbone, taking in the sight of my body. It wasn't his to see.

"Mason, why?" The hairs on my arms stood on end. "Why?"

"She's got some nice tits." Devon trailed his filthy hand from my belly button, up between my breasts. "She wants it as well. Look at her squirming!"

"Like hell I do, get the fuck away from me!" I shrieked. "Julian is going to kill you."

"Eh, I don't think he will," Mason spoke calmly by my ear. "Besides, it's time for Jules to learn how to share."

Devon laughed, smiling ear-to-ear, and if I hadn't been tied down, I would have tried to kick in his teeth.

"He won't ever give up." I mixed promise with threat, hoping to strike just enough fear into their hearts to postpone whatever fate awaited me. "Julian will eventually find you."

"You bloody fucking idiot. Think he's going to believe you over his best mates? Ha! We'll just say little Brooke's been fucking about behind his back. He's going to want to kill you, not us." Devon glanced at Mason with a smug grin. "Though, he almost took care of himself, didn't he, Mase? Julian was a good little hamster."

"What?" My head wouldn't stop spinning. This had to have been a dream. I didn't think my heart could sink any lower out of my body, but it did.

"Heroin, you dimwitted yank." Devon kicked at my feet.

"Never again, you asshole. You can ruin my life, but you won't ruin his anymore." No matter the crisis I was in, I felt fiercely protective of Julian. I would take anything, so long as he didn't have to suffer another day in his life. "He's not taking your fucking shit anymore."

"My shit? I was just the middle man." Devon laughed and stared at Mason.

Slowly, realization trickled over me. It was all clicking into place.

The constant phone calls.

Him hardly ever being around.

"Mason?" Nothing felt out of the realm of possibilities anymore.

"This slag's a genius. You've got it all sussed out now, do ya?" Devon's lip curled to form a contentious smirk. "You finally figured out where I get my supply."

"Mason," I sobbed his name, letting the hot tears run down my cheeks, neck, and heaving chest. "Why?"

"Why not?" Mason replied coldly. Though he stared at me, his green eyes were distant and void of emotion.

"It makes no sense." I racked my brain. "You don't need the money."

"Not now, no. But it's not all about the cash, you know," Mason said, twirling a finger around the skin of my lower stomach. "Have you ever heard of the Dark Web? I'm sure you haven't. Pretty little naive American girl like yourself."

Devon's laughter sliced my ears.

"See, Brooke, I'm not just known for my music," Mason said. "I'm famous for my connections as well."

It felt as though every bit of moisture had left my tongue, as I tried to swallow again, and couldn't.

"Well, infamous really, at least anonymously," Mason explained. "I've been doing this long before the band was even an idea."

I couldn't breathe. My mind was scrambling to keep up, and absorb the shocks as they came.

"I can see you're a bit confused, Brooke. The Dark Web is an online black market. Hidden, thoroughly encrypted, and completely safe for anyone to make anonymous transactions. No feds. Free from surveillance. Free from investigation. Free from prosecution."

I stared into Mason's eyes, and the longer I did, the more serpent-like they became.

"I'm completely untouchable. I've got clients and distributors in every major city around the world, and I'll never, ever get caught. I'm quids in. Why would I turn that down? Easiest job in the world and a nice little security net. The band can falter and I'll still be fine."

"But it still doesn't make any sense! You were selling drugs. You could've sold them to anybody. Why did you need to pass it off to Julian?" I didn't even try to stop the tears. "Why to Julian?"

Mason shrugged apathetically. "He wanted to waltz in and take over my band, so I took it back. I did him an enormous favor by letting him join, so the muppet should've known his place."

The serpent's eyes never left mine.

"Everyone thinks Miles is so goddamn talented? Everyone thinks he's so fucking intelligent?" There was a lethal combination of rage and passion in Mason's words. "He wasn't bright enough to see this for what it was."

The way Mason softly chuckled made the acid burn in my stomach, straight up to my mouth.

"Nobody will respect him now. He certainly was a good little lab rat, nevertheless," Mason said. "My own personal quality control, you could say. I'm surely not stupid enough to get caught up in that shit, but he got the first bags of every fresh batch. Your precious little Jules tested everything before it sold, made sure it was good. The last one was a bad batch... oops."

"We trusted you." I cried silently at the reality piecing itself together around me. "You were his best friend."

"I'm nobody's friend," Mason said emphatically into my ear, then bit the skin of my neck.

Even the slightest hint of his saliva on my skin, felt like knives carving out more pieces of me.

"Please don't... You don't need me," I tried to convince them both, in absolute desperation. "You have so many fans everywhere. You can have any girl you want, willingly."

"Where's the fun in that, love?" Mason bit my earlobe, making the rancid taste of vomit fluctuate in the back of my throat again. "I like a challenge."

From my ear, and toward my mouth, Mason moved.

"Yes, a challenge is always fun. But I'm also a gentleman," he whispered, while brushing a loose, tear-soaked strand of hair away from my heated cheek. "And what kind of gentleman would I be, without a bit of foreplay for the lady?"

As Mason continued stroking the skin of my face, he left no space between us. I could feel the heat of his rancid breath against the front of my teeth. I slammed my mouth shut, unable to produce a sound, but my silence would not keep him from touching me.

Mason's hands. Devon's chuckling.

A nightmare without end.

For just a second, I wished to light my head on fire, so his fingers might have stopped moving through my hair, caressing the strands. He, however, wanted more from me. Much, much more.

I stared, petrified and heaving, as Mason leaned in to kiss my lips.

The very second I realized what was happening, I opened my mouth. Repugnant, putrid breaths of air began wafting toward my tonsils, and Mason moaned—mistaking this for a sign of my enthusiasm, or submission. Just before his tongue could cover mine, however, I gnashed my teeth down, onto Mason's bottom lip.

His moan of pleasure hastily turned into a primal groan, as Mason went from stroking through my hair, to painfully gripping a fistful of it, between his dirty palms. Still, he continued kissing me, and seemed to enjoy it even more now that the skin near his gums was bleeding.

Seconds after I released the grip of my teeth on him—and slammed my mouth shut once again—Mason kept kissing my stationary lips.

"I can't speak for Devon," he said, after finally pulling apart from my face. "But I was going to be gentle with you."

Into an upright position, Mason stood, and wiped at the blotchy, reddened skin where I had chewed away at the flesh. He stared at his hand for the residual proof of my defiance.

"Now, I won't hold back," Mason promised. "The next time you use those teeth, you'll be swallowing them yourself."

Toward his grinning friend, Mason nodded—signaling. They both advanced, centimeter by agonizing centimeter. Devon's hands groped my inner thighs, and Mason's index finger fished inside my mouth, testing me.

I called out for help one last time.

"JULIAN!" I screamed. "SOMEBODY! ANYBODY! PLEASE!"

"Nobody can help you now." Mason breathed the icy words into my ear, making every part of me shudder uncontrollably. "Not me. Not Julian. Not even God himself."

...