Home Sweet Home

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Sarah's heart never stopped racing from the moment she saw with horror the surreptitious videos taken of her and Jess making love--to the time she arranged for the next flight from London to California. She rushed packing her things in the room and quickly called for a cab, trying desperately to get out of the hotel before Jessie returned. This was all accompanied by intermittent tears of anger and humiliation. Each time she closed her eyes she could see the few seconds of her own naked body writhing and responding to Jess' tender and powerful movements. She knew now why he had insisted that the lights be on so brightly that night. The clear imaging of her and the sound of her gasps and moans left nothing to the imagination. All she could think about was how their intense lovemaking had lasted most of the night.

As Sarah rode in the taxi though the gridlock of London, she thought seriously about the horrific and immensely regrettable situation she was in. Having to wait five hours for her flight at Heathrow Airport would only give her more self-deprecating time to think about how stupid she was to put so much trust in this man--a total stranger who, inside of only two months, had seduced her with his charm, his complimentary words and the false notion that he truly cared for her.

As Sarah was dropped off at the departure terminals at Heathrow International, her depression was only exceeded by the dire fear she had that Jess might go to there and try to intercept her. What could she possibly say to him that would even come close to the disgust and outrage she felt? Would he try to get her to stay? Get physical if she resisted?  

Going to the police was out of the question. It would only embroil her deeper into the sordid details she would have to explain and then be coerced into filing a complaint about--all things which she now hoped would never come light with the public. But this was all defeatist thinking, as she knew the sex video was probably already online, already before the eyes of thousands if not millions of total depraved strangers. Just how many would see and hear her in those most intimate moments of lust?

Once Sarah had located her departure gate and flight number to New York--all hastily booked back in the hotel, she found a place along the periphery of the terminal lounge to wait. She chose the spot specifically as it afforded her a view of anyone entering the wide expanse and allowed her an exit into other gates if she were to see Jess looking for her. She worried particularly about him attempting to intercept her there simply because of what she had done prior to leaving the posh hotel room. Instead of silently slipping out---without letting him know what she had discovered on his tablet, she instead boldly wrote in lipstick over the surface of the device's screen, WHY?  She then left the tablet on the bed for him to find. Whether this was the right thing to do or not, mattered little at the time. All she wanted was for him to comprehend that he had been exposed. Revealed to her as the wicked and sick person she now understood him to be.

It was one of the longest and most uncomfortable periods Sarah had ever had to endure---lounging there to board her flight that evening. She had no desire to peruse the airport shops to try and keep her mind off the tragedy. No desire to even move. And sleeping in her chair while waiting was out of the question as she needed to keep her vigilance up in the event Jess was spotted in the terminal. She could only hope, that as before, he had no qualms about letting her languish back in the hotel room while he took care of his 'business.' 

That business was now highly in question with her. For how could someone ever be a part of something so insidious as to make an illegal sex tape of someone they supposedly cared about?  Even more repulsive to Sarah was the fact that Jess had obviously been grooming her for the event over time.

Once on the airplane, she collapsed into her seat and slept through the entire flight of seven hours to New York's JFK. Once there, her layover was only two hours for a flight to San Diego International, where she managed to contact her mother at Fairbanks Ranch. Without sharing the fiasco, she instructed her to arrange a taxi to be waiting at the transportation park of the San Diego airport. From there she would be driven to her home in Del Mar. This was how the endless afternoon indeed progressed. Then, following a brief call to let her mother know she made it home, Sarah simply entered her apartment blindly and collapsed on her bed. Drifting off to sleep, she remembered little of either flight to California, only just being emotionally drained from what she considered nothing less than a desperate escape from England. 

* * *

It had only been several hours of deep sleep when Sarah was awakened by her cell phone placed next to her pillow. Certain it would be her mother, and totally unanswerable if it was Jess, she quickly could see the caller was neither. Instead, it was Carrie Jameson from San Francisco--the  childhood friend with whom she had recently reunited.

"Hello. Carrie?"

"Hey there little Sis. You OK?"

"I'm . . . I'm really not sure . . ."

"Well, your mom called me earlier. Seemed to sense something was up with you. Said you came back from your England trip . . . in a rush. That all true?"

"Yeah . . . It's true.  I'm back . . . early."

"And why?  She said you planning most the week to be over there. With Mr. Wonderful."

"Please, Carrie . . . don't start. I just can't talk about him right now. Maybe never."

"Hmm. Sounds seriously like it comes with the territory. . . I mean the usual. Men. Right?"

"No Carrie. This isn't the usual. It's all pretty sick. I just don't want to talk about it. OK?"

"That's cool, sweetie. I understand. But look . . . you really are alright, then?  I mean . . ."

"No!  I'm really not alright. I've never been so . . ."  Her voice drifted off emotionally.

"So . . .what, Sarah?

"So stupid. And now so . . .down. Just really down!"

"Look little buddy, I'm taking a couple of days off. I've got the comp time coming to me anyway. I'll fly down tonight. Now don't say no! I won't accept that. You get yourself together. Some food and rest and I'll be in San Diego by this evening. Dinner's on me, OK?  But I can tell we seriously need to talk, babe."

"NO! Carrie! I just need to . . . die."

"Yeah, and I need a new car. So hear me out. You just tread water down there for a few hours. Stay cool until I arrive late this afternoon or early evening. Text me the address of your place in Del Mar. And be ready for my annoying company. "

"But . . ."

"You don't have to tell me anything tonight if you don't want to, Hon. But I know when a girl needs a good long hug and a pair of ears. My god, don't you remember how much shit we've been through together, Sarah?"

"Yeah. . . I do. I'll never forget it. But that was . . ."

"Doesn't matter when it was   It's all shit. Now just text me back that address.  And hang on. I'll have you laughing in  . . . two Margaritas. Besides, I've got some good stories to tell you of my adventures up here in the big city. They're also starting to call me Lara Croft over at the Bureau."

"You're incredible, Carrie."

"Only?"

"OK. But I've got to go. I'm feeling sick to my stomach again."

"Just send the text. And go eat some banana-vanilla yogurt."

She tried to smile, but could not. 

"Alright, Carrie. See you this evening."

"That's my girl."

As the phone went dead, Sarah wondered if and how she could ever tell anyone what had happened. Maybe it would be good to share the horror of it with someone, she thought. Especially Carrie, who she remembered as a girl never shied away from anything. The fact that her friend now worked for the FBI opened all kinds of possibilities on how she could proceed with what Jess had done to her. But she would have to think long and hard about that--to ever let anyone know those exasperating details which left such a deep and lasting wound on her heart and mind.

* * *



Text and e-book copyright © 2015 Califia Montalvo

All Rights Reserved


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