The Secret Sister M. DeLuca (read 50 shades of grey .txt) 📖

it into the login column and click – a long string of talk bubbles. ToXicBoy and his friends PaiN, ScAndal, DriLLer and CatAStrophe shared fantasies with each other as well as photo and video files. A real community of sickos. ToXic described how he took a little girl’s clothes off and made her scream and her slut of a mom knew about it too. Then PaiN sends a file swap. Fresh pictures. So hot you’ll explode.

The file was nowhere to be seen. Even they weren’t that stupid.

I spent the better part of two hours combing through folders on the desktop. Nothing. Gord was too smart to leave them somewhere they couldn’t be permanently erased. I sat back in his chair trying to figure out how his mind worked. I knew they’d be in the office somewhere. It would be a turn on to know he could have them under his nose. At the center of his empire. Immediate gratification at his fingertips. One minute he’d be in a well-lit lecture theater lecturing earnest academics on the best way to cultivate young minds, the next minute he’d slither away to the dark confines of his office to feed his sick fantasies. It must’ve given him a real buzz jacking off after hours in the pristine comfort of his well-appointed office.

Somewhere, a USB was hidden. It had to be.

My phone buzzed. It was Guy. I couldn’t talk to him at that moment. Couldn’t associate him with this crap. Guy was a victim too. Just like those kids. Gord and I had both screwed him over and he didn’t know it.

I went through the drawers. Nothing there among the pristine, obsessively ordered paper clip containers, tape dispensers, pencils, erasers, and file tabs. I stood in front of the bookshelves and scanned the spines. On the bottom row were all his books. A lifetime’s work based on a framework of lies. On the top shelf a row of novels. Thrillers, murder mysteries. The usual junk.

In the middle were two copies of Lolita. It seemed too obvious a hiding place, but then I remembered the scope of his vanity. This guy thought he was invincible. That the rules weren’t meant for him. He destroyed people’s lives without a second thought.

I pulled the books down. One was real, the other revealed ripped out pages and nestling inside, a silver USB. On the page, two lines were highlighted:

Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins. My sin, my soul. Lo-lee-ta: the tip of the tongue taking a trip of three steps down the palate to tap, at three, on the teeth.

I plugged in the USB. Blinked once and images flooded the screen. A gallery of young skinny bodies. Splayed out, twisted, their faces turned away. Thin wrists secured to bedposts. Gord was in some of the pictures with girls like Birdie. It was enough to incriminate him a hundred times over. And then I couldn’t look any more.

He was loathsome. Vile. An addict. I’d read about people like him.

My heart raced and my hands shook as I downloaded the contents of the USB onto the desktop. I glanced up at the clock. Plenty of time left to finish the job off. I waited as the bar inched along to completion. Car headlights swished by on the street outside. I prayed that Gord hadn’t forgotten something and had to come back for it. That the door wouldn’t slam open to reveal Gord, Nancy, or worse, Guy standing there wondering what the hell I was doing.

My mind was working overtime so I concentrated instead on the screen. So many videos and images took a long time to download. Fourteen minutes remaining it said. I told myself that was normal. It would probably only take five. Once it was safely on the desktop, I’d hide it in a secret place. I’d learned the trick from a student last year. A veteran hacker of corporate computers. Only I’d know where it was hidden but Gord would have no idea it was even there. It would stay concealed until I told the right person exactly where to find it after they’d seized Gord’s computer. After I’d handed Birdie’s photos over to the cops, and told them her story. Then everyone would know the truth about Gord and his sick buddies.

Finally the authorities would have all the ammunition they needed to put an end to Earl Rafferty, Karrass and Gord. To lock them away for a good, long time. Throw the keys away if I’d had my way. No doubt many other respectable pillars of the community would be caught up in the sting as well. Maybe it was too late to save Carla, maybe not.

The electronic ping told me it was done downloading. I did my secret hiding trick, closed the laptop lid and put the books and everything back exactly in place. On the way out I spat in his water glass and shut the door.

Out on the street I felt calm.

Peaceful for the first time.

My phone rang. Guy again. I clicked the receive button and spoke before he could say a thing. I had to protect him. Get him away from here when it all came crashing down.

“Hey, sweetheart. I was just thinking. We don’t need to wait a year. Let’s celebrate our six-month anniversary in Vegas. It’s coming up next month.”

45

Las Vegas, November 2019

“If he’s any kind of a man, he’ll understand why you had to do it,” says a voice from behind me. The hand squeezes my shoulder. Comforting. Warm.

If breaking Guy’s heart was part of Gord’s punishment then why do I feel so empty? Why do I want to run after him, throw my arms around him? Tell him I never want to hurt him.

“He made a home for me. I love him for that.”

The person hands me a cold beer. “Drink this. You’ll feel better.”

I take the bottle and press it against my forehead. The cold feels so good I turn around to take