Becca Ritchie - Kiss the Sky

“Stay safe. All of you,” my father says.

With this, he hangs up. No mention of the actual sex tape, no chiding. He only seemed disappointed by my refusal to grab a lawyer.

Connor gives me a reprimanding look as he hands the phone back to Lily. “I thought you took my lawyer to the meeting, and I thought he read the contracts.”

“I thought I told you I left him behind.”

Connor shakes his head. “You must have mentioned that to someone else, darling.” He takes my wine glass again and finishes it off with one long gulp.

“What the hell was that?” Loren asks Connor. “Greg gives me a two hour speech about sobriety after our scandal, and he doesn’t even acknowledge yours.”

“To be fair,” Connor says, “you lied to Greg and Samantha about being addicts. That news is a bit more jarring than a sex tape…” His voice drifts off on the last words.

We all turn to see what stole his attention.

There he is.

Standing by the staircase like nothing’s wrong.

Scott Van fucking Wright.

The room silences in an uncomfortable wave. My body is vibrating in rage, and I realize I’m squeezing Sadie too tight when she lets out a small, dissatisfactory hiss.

Scott looks between all of us, and then his lips lift into that shit-eating grin. “Did I miss something?”

Before I can respond, Connor walks casually towards Scott, my boyfriend’s face utterly blank and unreadable. I can’t predict anything, and that unknown has all of us on edge, no one but him making a sound or a move. I just hear Connor’s expensive shoes tap the hardwood until he stops right in front of Scott.

And then Connor holds out his hand, like he wants to shake the producer’s. “Congratulations,” Connor says. “You outsmarted me. Not many people ever do. And I admit…I never saw this coming.”

His wooden voice frightens me.

Scott stares at his hand and then back at his face. He shrugs like what the hell? and then he clasps Connor’s palm.

What is this? A truce—

And then Connor decks Scott in the jaw with his free fist. Scott slams into the wall forcefully. “That’s from me,” Connor says, anger lacing his voice.

Scott gathers himself quickly and swings back.

Connor dodges the attack and then kicks Scott, hard, in the penis. Scott groans in horrific pain. Fuck yes! I am cheering on the inside. There are cannons shooting out confetti in my brain. Halle-fucking-luiah.

“That’s from Rose.”

Scott is in a crouched position on the ground, his eyes watering. He grimaces and slowly stands, clutching onto the wall for support.

Connor doesn’t back away, not even a little scared of being hit back.

Scott chokes on a cough, looking like he doesn’t want even the slightest chance of that happening again. “…I’d love to see your face when you realize what you’ve signed.”

“You’re seeing it now,” Connor tells him calmly, not giving Scott anymore satisfaction. I love him for that. “I’m positive you have full rights to anything we ever film, which gave you permission to sell the sex tape to a porn site without our signed consent. I don’t have the contract in front of me, but I’m sure there’s something misleading about the part where you weren’t allowed to film us in the bedrooms.”

“I read that line correctly. I know it,” I say. There was a stipulation about the bedrooms…wasn’t there?

Scott hunches a little, still recovering from the blow to the balls. “It said that we couldn’t air anything from the bedrooms on television. We never did. The contract said nothing about filming. And any of the footage from the bedrooms and the bathroom can be used for movies and web content. Just not network TV.”

OhmyGod. I blew Connor in the bathroom.

Scott laughs devilishly as he watches my face fill in horror. He has…so much footage of us. I recollect every time we had sex. He has it all. Hours of us, fucking.

Lily and Loren…

Scott must read my stricken gaze that travels to my little sister. “Lily was almost always in her room,” Scott says, “we weren’t able to install any cameras to catch anything.” Right. They had to reinstall cameras because I made Connor and Loren sweep the bathroom and the bedrooms when we first moved in.

I glance at Ryke.

“I didn’t fuck in the house,” he says.

I turn to Daisy. Her face pales.

Connor eases her worries. “It’s illegal to film minors in pornographic situations.” He glares at Scott.

We’ve caught him.

He’s going to jail.

“We didn’t,” Scott says. “All that footage was destroyed.”

Fuck you! I unleash Sadie, about to ram my heel up Scott’s ass. But Ryke stands behind me and holds me back, two hands on my shoulders. It takes me a moment to realize that Connor is staring at Ryke, giving him a command through his eyes to restrain me.

“You’re disgusting!” I shout at Scott with an extra high-pitch scream.

Scott stays calm. I am the only one freaking out. How is that possible? He dropped a grenade on my life. I want everyone to be as fucking pissed as me.

But I realize that when I’m angry, there’s almost no room for anyone else to be the same. I am a hurricane. A typhoon, and I will destroy everyone in my wake.

Yes, dramatic.

But that’s just how I fucking feel.

Get out of my way. Or I’ll drown you.

“The text message from Julian?” Connor asks Scott.

“Planted. Brett took Julian’s phone in the middle of the night and texted it to Ryke.” That pudgy asshole. I knew he wasn’t on our side.

“Lily and Lo in the bathroom with the slurping audio?”

“Edited. We did it in advance and uploaded it on the camera for you to find.” That motherfucker...

“The alcohol in Lo’s closet?”

“Planted. Savannah and Ben put it there when Lily was taking a nap. They were supposed to install a camera too, but they ran out of time.”

…Savannah and Ben. I hate them all. Where’s the loyalty?

Ryke takes his hands off me and starts to near Scott.

Loren doesn’t do a thing. He’s just whispering in Lily’s ear and she nods back.

“You’re going to fucking hell for this!” Ryke says with darkness swirling in his brown eyes.

Connor shoves him back the moment he’s close. And then Connor turns to Scott. “I’m going to let Ryke go if you don’t get out of this house. And his fists are going to hurt a hell of a lot more than mine. So take what’s on your back and leave.”

Scott straightens up, not exactly exiting with his dignity. But he has millions of dollars in his pockets from multiple sex tapes. He can sell them for much more than the first one.

He’s set for life.

He won.

We lost. How did we lose?

Oh yes, hubris.

I am a Greek tragedy. Or a Shakespearian comedy—it’s going to end with a wedding after all.

When the door closes behind him, the room blankets in tension, only disrupted by Sadie’s collar that jingles as she rubs her body against Connor’s calves.

“So…” Loren looks from Connor to me and back. “…is there going to be a boxed set of you two for sale?”

“Most likely,” Connor says. And every dime will go to Scott and the porn site. Fuck my life.

He comes to my side and kisses my temple. There’s nothing we can do. We just have to deal. With Connor here, I think I can.

I clap my hands together to alleviate the leftover strain in the room. “Everyone, go pack. We’re leaving, you heard Dad.”

I picture my gated house with the black shutters, large kitchen, and most importantly—private bathrooms. Dear God, I’m already salivating over a nice hot shower alone with no threat of cameras.

I glance at Connor, who collects my hair off my neck. Maybe he can join me too.

Daisy shifts on her feet. “I guess I’m going back to Mom’s.”

My stomach falls again. She’s seventeen. There’s nothing I can do about that, as much as I want to. And then my eyes drift to Ryke, the other one who will be left in Philly. It’s weird. We’ve been together in the same house for so long that breaking our routine feels odd. Like a puzzle piece out of place.

We’ve become something of a family.

A dysfunctional, fucked up family. It’s hard to let that go.

But things are changing again. The reality show helped Calloway Couture, and in one moment, this sex tape could topple all I’ve sacrificed.

I’ll have to confront the public at some point, and it’ll have to be more than just waving a glass of whiskey at the television.

I could be hated and condemned like my sister.

I hear the criticism already. And I don’t wilt by it. I’m just angry.

So bring it on, motherfuckers. Try to hurt me. Because I won’t let you.

You’ve won the right to see my body, but you’re not taking my pride.

It’s too excessive to destroy anyway.

The townhouse is empty except for my heavy cedar table in the living room. I set my small duffel bag on the kitchen counter as Connor descends the stairs.

“All the rooms are checked,” he tells me. “Nothing’s left behind.”

“Except my dignity.”

His eyes deepen in concern, the same look he’s given me the entire time we’ve been packing. I’ve shut down any conversation revolving around Scott and the sex tape. But now I’m no longer fueled by my liquid courage, and I’ve had two hours to shake off the shock and process what’s happened.