Behind the Lens (Behind the Lives) (15 page)

“I
am
not
a porn actress!” Beth yelled, then froze as Saul turned back to
her, the look on his face to die for, and not in a good way.

“Sorry,”
Ant said loudly, “you’re a
real
actress.” He laughed. “They all want to
believe that.”

Jade
laughed with him, probably falling for Ant’s lie. Beth wanted to tell him
differently, but Saul’s smouldering eyes kept her silent.

“So,”
Jade said to Ant. “Have I permission to approach Dante now?”

“Yes,
just as long as you offer him the deal we discussed. He may cause you trouble
to start with, that’s his nature, but in the end he’ll accept.”

Beth’s
panic rose at the mention of Dante. “What are they talking about?” she asked
Saul.

“Exchanging
money for a product.” Saul took Beth off the assistant and directed her to a
door several feet away.

“But
they were talking about Dante,” she said, trying to turn around.

“
He’s
the product.”

She
jerked herself free from Saul. “Dante’s not a thing!”

“He
is now.” Saul reached for her, making her back up, but instead of grabbing her
neck, he unlocked the door and shoved her inside.

Beth
fell onto the floor, crying out as she hit the concrete. She quickly scrambled
to her feet and held out her hands, the man looking like he wanted to rip her
clothes off. “Please no, please don’t.”

He
stopped advancing on her. “Don’t
what?
”

“Don’t
rape me.”

He
shook his head. “I have no interest in raping you...”

She
breathed out.

“...because
your stupidity is turning me off.”

“What?”

“I
said you’re stupid.”

She
stared at him, not knowing what to say to that, or why he was saying it, or
worse, why it hurt to hear that word coming from his mouth, because she hated
the bastard, was terrified of him.

He
sighed, like he was disappointed in her. “I can threaten your brother, but as
soon as something upsets you, you snap, forgetting that I hold his safety in my
hands. Well, I did warn you enough times, so now you have to deal with the
consequences.” He turned to the door.

Realisation
and panic rushed through her at the same time, propelling her forward. “No,
don’t tell Ant!” She grabbed his arm. “I’ll do anything, just leave Corey
alone.”

Saul
turned to her, his gaze going to her hands. She let go of his arm, wondering
whether she’d made things worse, but instead he smiled. “What will you do for
me?” he asked.

She
took a step back. “I won’t shout, complain or hurt anyone.”

“And
what else?”

She
stared at him, not wanting to offer more.

“Well?”

“That’s
all I have to offer.”

“How
about your body?”

“But
you said I turned you off.”

“Looks
like you’re getting smarter by the second, so take your clothes off.”

“But,
I can’t.”

“Then
I’m telling Ant about Corey.” He turned back to the door.

She
grabbed his arm again. “Okay, I’ll do it. Look!” She started unbuttoning her
blouse, almost ripping it in the process.

Saul
turned around, his gaze latching onto her hands, making her hesitate, then she
thought of what Ant had done to the Irish man—and how he could do it to Corey.
She undid the remaining buttons, then slipped off the blouse, letting it fall
to the floor.

Saul
stared at her chest, his eyes glazing over, then his body jerked violently,
like he’d been electrocuted. “No!” he yelled, then he spun around and went for
the door.

Beth
froze for a second, not understanding his reaction, then realisation hit her
again:
He was going to tell Ant about Corey.

She
launched herself at the door as it slammed in her face. The sound of a lock
clicked, amping up her fear. She started banging on the door, yelling, “Come
back; come back!” When Saul didn’t reply, she screamed, “I’ll do anything, just
don’t tell him!” She banged harder. “You can’t do this to Corey, he’s just a
boy, please, I’m begging you, come back. I’ll let you do what you like to me, I
won’t say a word, just don’t let Corey get hurt. You can hurt me instead, I can
take it, I promise, I’ll let you do anything you want.” She knew that Saul was
long gone, but she couldn’t give up knowing that her little brother would pay
the consequences. “Please,” she sobbed, “Please, please...”

The
lock clicked open, causing her to stumble back in surprise. Saul stepped
inside, his features like stone, then he closed the door behind him, the clang
sending a shudder through her body. But instead of feeling fear, relief washed
over her, because she knew that Corey wouldn’t get hurt because of her.

She
reached around her back and undid her bra, then dropped it, knowing the only
one who would get hurt was herself.

10

Sledge

Sledge pulled over to the
kerb in Corey’s Ford, annoyed that he couldn’t get closer to the party. He
didn’t want to make Corey walk far, but had little choice, because the street
was jam-packed with vehicles, many parked on the footpath.

He
jumped out of the car and opened the back door to help Corey out, hooking his
arms under his boyfriend. Tama muttered on the other side. He was dressed in
jeans and a hoodie, the latter hiding a distinctive Māori tattoo on his
head, something that would get Tama thrown back into prison if anyone saw it.
Sledge had told him to grow some hair, but Tama just shook his head, saying
that he didn’t get the tat so it could be hidden by his god-awful afro.

“What
didja say?” Sledge asked Tama as he pulled Corey out.

“I
said, you should stop babying Pee-Wee Herman,” Tama said, “otherwise he’ll
always expect you to wipe his arse.”

“He’s
hurt, so shut the fuck up and pass me his crutches.”

Tama
pulled them out and threw them across the hood of Corey’s car.

“You
arsehole!” Corey hollered.

Tama
grinned. “Just doin’ what Sledge said.”

Sledge
grabbed the crutches and handed them to Corey. “Don’t worry, they didn’t do any
damage.”

“You
sure?” Corey turned to look at the hood.

“Yeah,
it’s fine.”

“Will
you two poofs stop blabbing and hurry the fuck up,” Tama said, “cos I need a
chick at the end of my dick. NOW!” He started walking towards the party, making
Sledge want to throw Corey’s crutches at him, the
poof
comment getting
on his nerves, although he knew Tama didn’t mean it literally—well, not to him
anyway, because if Tama knew he was a butt-jockey he wouldn’t be seen dead with
Sledge, the guy the biggest gay hater he knew.

Corey
gave Sledge a shove in the chest, making him let go. “Why didja hafta say yes
to that prick? You promised to stay home with me.”

“I
know and I’m sorry, but I owe him.”

“You
owe him nuthin’. He should be in bloody prison.”

“I
don’t think so, and I like that he’s out, cos it can be like old times again.”

“Yeah,
him calling me a faggot and a poof all the time.”

“He
calls everyone that, it’s just a standard part of his vocab, you know that.”

“No,
he insults me the most, and I’m sick of it. He doesn’t do that to you or Naf
hardly ever.”

“He
just called me a poof.”

“Only
cos you were talking to me.”

“You’re
just being overly sensitive.”

“Fuck
off, I am not, and I hope he gets so drunk he trips and dies.”

Sledge
stared at Corey in shock. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

Corey
lifted his chin up. “There’s nuthin’ wrong with me, but there is with your mate
the rapist.”

“He’s
not
a rapist,” Sledge hissed. “That bitch lied.”

“The
judge didn’t think so.”

“Well,
I don’t agree.”

A
house down, Tama hollered at them to hurry the fuck up again. Corey glowered in
Tama’s direction, the street lights making the expression spooky, like one of
those seemingly innocent kids in a horror movie right before they pulled out an
axe and planted it into the fool standing in front of them. “Are you willing to
risk him hurting some other chick?” Corey asked.

“Quit
it, Corey, he didn’t hurt her.”

“He
did so, and he’ll hurt someone else too if we don’t call the cops.”

Sledge
squeezed Corey’s arm, making his boyfriend yelp. “We’ve already been over this,
you are
not
to rat on him.”

“Lemme
go,” Corey said, trying to pull free.

Sledge
held on tight. “No, and if you phone the pigs then we’re over,” he said, not
meaning it, but wanting to scare Corey into shutting up.

Corey
went still. “But you said you loved me,” he said, sounding hurt.

Sledge
glanced over at Tama, who was now pissing on the side of a fence, singing a
Michael Jackson song. “I do love you, but I can’t be with someone who would
stab their mates in the back.”

“He’s
not
my
mate.”

“He
used to be, and he’s
my
mate, one of my closest ones.”

“You
said that you cared more ’bout me than him.”

Sledge
breathed out. “I do, but I can’t have you gettin’ him put away. You saw that
bandage on the back of his head, and if he gets thrown back in prison, I’m
terrified he’ll get himself killed this time round.”

“But
if he stays out here, what will happen then?”

“What
are you cunts waiting for?” Tama hollered at them again, his voice carrying
over the booming music coming from the party. “Stop talking like girly-fucks
and get over here now!”

Sledge
pointed a finger at Corey. “Keep your mouth shut for me, not Tama. Okay?”

Corey
pulled a face, but nodded.

They
headed for Tama, who was shaking his head, calling them a bunch of girls.
Sledge ignored Corey’s grumbles, following Tama to where bogan music blasted
out of a two-storey house. Heavy metal was definitely not his scene—nor Tama’s,
but he guessed all his mate cared about was getting laid. Sledge couldn’t blame
him over that, because he would’ve gone nuts if he hadn’t gotten a root in
three months, but maybe he would’ve done the gay thing in prison like he was
doing with Corey. He glanced at Corey, thinking his mate was the only guy he
wanted to fuck—or be with.

They
walked up the path to the front door, the house reminding Sledge of a Dali one,
the type with the Hollowstone blocks on the first level, and the tan-coloured
bricks and balustrades on the second. He wondered whether Dalies lived here, a
nickname given by New Zealanders to his people. But they weren’t
his
people anymore, because
his
family didn’t come from the Dalmatian coast
of Croatia. Pain lanced through his chest, wishing they had.

They
entered the house, the place absolutely packed. Tama sniggered and pointed at a
couch full of stoned-looking guys. Sledge couldn’t hear what Tama said above
the music, but he pretty much guessed that his mate was making fun of them,
their mullets looking like rats had spewed down their necks.

Sledge
helped Corey around the couch, indicating for one of the bogans to get up. The
guy looked up at him, his face completely blank. Sledge yanked him off the
couch, then removed another one, shoving the git in the same direction as the
other mullet-wearing dickhead. The remaining guys on the couch laughed, like it
was the best joke ever. Sledge ignored them and settled Corey on the couch next
to him.

Tama
shook his head, like he thought Sledge was mollycoddling Corey, then started
scanning the crowded room, probably sussing out who he could fuck. Sledge did
the same, wondering which chick Tama would hit on first, and whether his mate
would get slapped for it, something the gang used to bet on in the past.

Due
to the bogan territory, a lot of the chicks were dressed in black or
animal-prints—or both, everything tighter than Corey’s hole. Sledge’s gaze
stopped on a girl who looked about his age. She was standing by the telly and
openly staring at him, her skinny frame, long blond hair and doe-eyes
definitely to his taste. His eyes wandered up and down her, admiring what he
saw.

She
smiled in response, then headed for him. She stopped a foot away, her “Hi”
sounding so young.

“He’s
taken,” Corey piped up.

“Yes,
by me,” she said, not taking her eyes off Sledge. “You wanna find somewhere
quiet to talk?”

“Not
unless he wants an STD,” Corey answered before Sledge could open his mouth.
“So, go infect someone else’s dick.”

“Ignore
him!” Tama yelled over a new song, the heavy guitar riff causing a group of
guys by the fireplace to start head-banging. “Sit on Sledge’s lap, you’re just
his type.”

The
chick went to sit down, but Corey leaned over, holding out his hands to stop
her. “Back off!”

“What’s
your problem?”

“You!
So piss off before I stick my crutch up your sloppy twat.”

The
stoned bogans on the couch started laughing, one of them telling Corey he
should do it, Tama even laughing, although he offered something else to stick
up there.

“Arseholes!”
the girl yelled, then stormed off.

Grinning,
Tama focused on Corey. “That wuz freakin’ hilarious, but you still shouldn’t
have cock-blocked Sledge. She would’ve bounced on his dick in a second.”

“That
slapper would’ve infected him,” Corey snapped. “My guess is she’s riddled with
even more STDs than you have.”

“You
li’l faggot!” Tama moved forward, looking like he was going to punch Corey.

Sledge
shot up out of his seat and shoved Tama back. “You touch him; I’ll break your
face.”

“Then
tell him to stop insulting me!”

“Stop
insulting Tama,” Sledge said to Corey, then settled back down, irritated with
being caught in the middle.

Tama
kicked Sledge’s leg, like he’d forgotten he’d just been threatened—or just didn’t
care, the guy unbelievable. “You ain’t gonna sit on your arse all night, are
ya?”

Sledge
stood again, sick of shouting over the music. “I’ve gotta look after Corey.”

Tama’s
gaze moved to Corey. “You wanna beer?”

Corey
nodded, his expression surprised.

Tama
turned back to Sledge. “Get us some beers.”

“You
get ’em,” Sledge grunted. “I’ll stay with Corey.”

Tama
shook his head. “Nope, I’ll look after him.”

“If
you hurt him I’ll—”

“I
won’t, so don’t look at me like that, he’s my mate too, and I’ve never hit him
before when the li’l fucker has mouthed off. And anyway, I wanna catch up with
him too. Aye, Corey?” he said, shoving Sledge aside to steal his seat. “We can
have a li’l talk ’bout what you’ve been up to lately, cos you never came to
visit me in prissie. Bit rude, aye, considering how much the others came.”

Sledge’s
gaze moved to Corey. “Yeah, it wuz rude.”

Corey
shifted about, looking uncomfortable next to Tama. “I wuz sick,” he said.

Tama
placed an arm behind Corey’s back, resting it on the couch, like the two of
them were best mates. He gave Corey’s shoulder a friendly-looking pat. Sledge
didn’t believe the show, but he still wanted them to sort out their shit,
because he was sick of the arguing.

“Don’t
be a smart-arse to him, Corey,” Sledge said, “And you,” he pointed at Tama,
“remember if you hurt Corey you won’t just get your balls ripped off, you’ll
also be lookin’ for a new place to stay.”

“Yeah,
yeah, I already told ja I wouldn’t hurt the girl, so get us some beers
already.”

Sledge
gave them one last glance, then rushed to the kitchen, hoping they would at
least try to get on without any more ‘faggot’ or ‘rapist’ insults being flung
about. He returned a minute later to a very grumpy looking Corey and a smirking
Tama, who still had an arm around Corey’s shoulders.

“You
alright, Corey?” Sledge asked.

“What
are ya, his mother? Of course he is.” Tama stood up and swiped one of the beers
off Sledge.

Sledge
handed the orange juice to Corey, who gave him a scowl in return, like Sledge
was giving him poison.

Tama
grabbed Sledge’s arm as he went to sit down. “I wanna talk to you in private,”
he said, pulling Sledge in the direction of the kitchen.

Sledge
glanced behind at Corey, who was yelling at him to come back. He went to
return, but got a harder tug from Tama.

“For
fuck’s sake,” Tama snapped, “you’ve been with him loads, can’t you gimme some
time?”

“Yeah,
sorry,” Sledge said, feeling guilty. He followed Tama outside, where people
stood about, drinking and laughing in the cold night air.

Tama
found a free spot next to the house. “Why are you pandering to Corey?”

Sledge
leaned against the Hollowstone blocks and took a large gulp of his beer,
allowing himself to think of a reply.
Because he’s my boyfriend, I love him,
I don’t want him here, this place is too grungy for him, I’d rather be at home
in bed with him...
“He’s hurt and needs someone to look out for him. That’s
what mates do.”

“But
he’s cock-blocking you. That’s low. That chick wuz frothing at the pussy.” Tama
lifted the bottle to his lips, chugging the beer down.

“I’m
not in the mood for fucking.”

Beer
sprayed out of Tama’s mouth. Coughing, he wiped his face then shook his head,
his expression disgusted, like Sledge had said he wanted to pork Corey—which he
did.

“Only
old ladies and eunuchs aren’t in the mood
for fucking,” Tama finally
said, “and the Sledge I know would never turn down willing pussy.”