Untouchable (boyxboy)

Chapter 17

"Dylan...What are you doing here?" I back away from him slowly. There's only one way out of the room, and he's blocking it.

"Dad's bag is still in the car," he says. "I haven't unpacked his things yet, and as soon as he told me where you'd gone I knew you would poke your head where it doesn't belong. I hoped I'd get here before you did, but..." He shrugs, looking at the open cases scattered over the bed.

"What the fuck is all this?" I ask.

"What does it look like?" he returns, watching me with a weird, almost patient smile.

"It looks like bad shit," I say. He's got me in a corner between the wall and the bed, and I hold my ground.

"It's just porn," he says, shrugging. "Don't be such a prude."

"It's not 'just porn,'" I argue. "This shit is dark—twisted."

"Nobody got hurt making it, if that's what you're worried about. In fact, most of them had a pretty good time, from what I saw."

"You're sick. How can you be a part of something like this?"

He shrugs. "It's a tough job, but somebody's gotta do it."

I shake my head. "Why would you want to?"

His smile fades and he eyes me more critically. "You wanna know why? Fine. I'll tell you why. I got into some trouble in college. Racked up some debts I couldn't pay. Then Neil saw one of my films—an amateur thing I'd done—not porn, but he recognized my talent. He offered me a deal and I took it. He paid off my debts, and instead of loan sharks and banks, I owe him. I make the movies, he sells them. There's a market for...unusual tastes...and people are willing to pay for quality. We're just meeting a demand. Like I said, no one gets hurt."

"Even if that's true, it's still gross, and wrong," I say, fighting hard to keep the tremble from my voice and hands.

"Nah—I only film the straight stuff," he smirks.

I stare at him. I don't understand how we're related. How can he think that this stuff is fine, but two men innocently loving one another is a problem?

"So? What were you planning to do? Run to your boyfriend? Tell on me to Isabelle?" he asks, taking a deep breath through his nose. "You know I can't let you do that, right?"

"Dylan...I can't just let this go."

He shrugs, looking strangely sober. "I wouldn't be so sure. You see, I want out of this business, Felix. You're right—it's messed up, more than you can imagine. I've had enough—seen enough. But I still owe Neil a lot of money. I just need to get through this wedding, and then I can leave this whole sordid mess behind."

I feel a shock of new horror at his words. I'd suspected that her money was part of what Dylan liked about Isabelle, but I hadn't imagined it was the only thing.

"Do you even love her?" I ask, anger making my voice shake more than fear.

"Eh," he shrugs again. "Enough."

"You're unbelievable," I say, and move to push past him, fury making me reckless, but he stops me, setting his hand to my chest at the base of my throat.

"Hey, now. Not so fast. We're not done here."

"You can't hurt me," I snap. "People will notice, and it won't keep me quiet."

He raises his brows. "You think I don't know how to hurt you without leaving a mark?" he asks, and pushes me with a sudden hard shove so I fall back on the bed, crushing some of the cases under me as I do. "Filming all this shit has been quite the education, you know."