On the flight home, I try to shut Cage out of my mind, but with every mile that passes, my agony grows and grows.

In a way, Cage hurt me worse than Liam ever could have. Liam never got under my skin and into my heart, so his betrayal never felt as personal.

I even think we might’ve had a future, because what would have happened if Liam hadn’t texted me with that picture during Igor’s dinner? In the end, would Cage have held on to me for longer than the term of our agreement?

The questions haunt me as I press my face into the papery airline pillow and listen to the whine of the engines in the otherwise silent plane. Somehow I fell in love with Cage during our brief time together, and now that we’re over, it’s as if I’m being sliced in two slowly yet thoroughly.

After the plane lands, I turn on my phone to see an avalanche of texts and voicemails. At first, I think they’re from Liam, but that’s not the case.

Cage has been trying to contact me.

As I sit in my seat numbly waiting for my turn to deplane, I stare at one of his texts on my screen.

Just tell me you’re okay, Karini.

And that’s only the most recent message. I want to talk to you. Call me. I only want to make sure everything is all right…

I put my phone away. He isn’t ever going to get a call or text from me, because now that I spent hours in shock and sadness because the man I fell for didn’t believe me or the terrible story I told him, I’m done. I just got through being treated like garbage by Liam, and it’s not ever going to happen to me again.

Especially not with Cage Bryant.

Eventually I slump into the terminal with my one overnight bag, but I’m determined to get myself together. I have to before I arrive at the pick-up area where my parents will be waiting. They were overjoyed when I let them know about my change of flight plans; they were excited to see me even a few hours earlier than scheduled.

That’s love, and I’m going to appreciate what I do have of it.

When they swing by the curb in their Mazda, I force myself to perk up, wave to them, then go to where they’ve pulled over. Both of them burst out of the car, arms open wide to me, and at the sight of their normal, hometown-America, beaming smiles, I drop my bag and run into their embraces.

As they lob questions to me about my “end-of-summer adventure,” my heart breaks even more. I’ll make myself tell them about how I went to hip restaurants and cool places with my “friends,” but I’ll be lying about these “happy times”—mostly to myself.

I miss Cage, even with all the anguish he’s causing me. Dammit, I only want to be with him again.

Soon I’m sitting in the backseat of the car, speeding along to my parents’ house. My phone dings, and both of them glance back at me: my dad’s gray eyes in the rearview mirror, my mom’s blue ones as she turns around.

I try to laugh as I say, “I’m sure it’s my friends seeing if I made it here okay.”

“Well don’t let us stop you.” Mom looks so young with her light brown hair in a ponytail, so happy to see me. “Go ahead. Answer them.”

I shouldn’t look, because I know I’m just going to see Cage’s name on the screen and it’ll break me for good. I’ll start crying, and they’ll ask me what’s wrong, and I won’t be able to answer them. But as my mom turns back around, I give in to temptation and get my phone out.

It’s not Cage who’s sent a text.

When my phone sounds off with Liam’s ringtone, my adrenaline freezes me. As I let the call go through, praying my parents won’t comment about how someone is certainly bent on reaching me, I see Dad’s brows furrow in the rearview mirror.

“Really, I’ll just get it later,” I say, but my voice shakes as I shut off my phone.

I’m acting weird, and they know it.

Later, after I go to the bedroom my parents have so lovingly kept clean and tidy for me, I finally listen to Liam’s message.

“Wasn’t last night enough to let you know how goddamn serious I am?” he yells. “Congratulations, you little twat—you just got yourself in deeper.”

After he demands even more money, I start to choke on my panic.

I text him right away.

I’ll give you the money when it comes in! I swear! Please don’t do anything, Liam.

But I don’t know if Cage is even going to finalize my payment from our arrangement. After all, he’s angry, and he’s rich enough to simply refuse if he chooses to. I mean, I broke my contract by leaving before our time was even up…hours before. I hadn’t even been thinking about the technicalities because my emotions were getting the best of me.

God, I’m really in the shit now.

When Liam doesn’t respond to my text, my stomach ties up in rough knots and, for the rest of the day, I wait in terror to see if he’ll carry through with his threats, outing my pictures to the online world.

I can’t eat.

I can’t sleep.

Not until I check my bank account first thing in the morning to find that all of the money Cage promised me is there.

* * *

Two weeks later, Cage still hasn’t said anything about the money or my leaving him in such a rush. He’s stopped asking if I’m okay. He hasn’t followed up with a call or even a text, and his silence has only verified that whatever we had between us is really over. Of course, my heart still has an impossible time accepting that, even as my brain constantly reminds me that it’s true and it’s for the best.

How could I live with someone who doubted me like he did?

I can’t, but I still think of him every day, sometimes every hour, and…god. It never gets better. I ache in the morning, ache during the day, and especially at night. The nights are definitely the worst, because that’s when I remember how excited he made me and how, sometimes, I would see true emotion in his eyes.

But there are a couple of consolations I can take from everything, as I sit on a stone wall at school while watching some upperclassmen toss a Frisbee. First, I’m finally picking up the pieces of my life and moving on. And, best of all, Liam hasn’t contacted me either. After I saw Cage’s money in my bank account, I immediately transferred it to my blackmailer, then texted him saying that I never, ever wanted to see or hear from him again. As far as I was concerned, we had no more business to deal with ever again.

It seems that the money has been enough to keep Liam happy, because there are no pictures or videos of me naked online. No humiliation. No worries about how all of this could’ve affected Cage’s business with Igor Vasiliev, who, by the way did agree to work with Bryant Industries shortly after I left.

I saw the business articles online…not that I’m wallowing in every piece of news about Cage or anything.

All I want to do now is graduate at the end of the semester. I’m going to move forward.

When my phone rings in my backpack, I take it out right away. It’s my mom’s ringtone, but whenever I get a call or text, I keep hoping it’s Cage.

Before I answer, I inhale the fresh air and exhale. My lungs are tight, as if I’m going to cry again, but I shove my emotions aside.

“Hey, Mom,” I say.

Dammit, my voice sounds as if I have been crying. I can’t do anything right, not even shut off my emotions.

Of course, Mom knows best. “Karini, are you okay?”

“Sure. I’ve got my favorite class in fifteen minutes.” It’s a course in recreational mathematics. I saved the fun stuff for my final semester.

I just wish I were actually having more fun.

“All right,” Mom says. “Because lately, you’ve been…”

“I know, Mom.”

Mom, Dad, and my older sister Lacey who doesn’t even live at home, noticed the funk I’ve been in. Right up until I returned to college several days ago they kept wanting to know what’s going on with me, but I kept making excuses, continuing to lick my wounds and keeping matters to myself.

They’d never understand everything I’ve been through anyway.

Mom doesn’t bludgeon me with questions. She knows that won’t help, so she chats about the Thanksgiving plans she’s already making. It doesn’t matter that the holidays are months away—she’s an orchestrator, and both sets of my grandparents will be visiting. She’s calling to confirm that I won’t be taking off during the break to go skiing or snowboarding. It’s her way of saying I’d better be there.

As I assure her I will be, I grab my backpack and start walking to my class on a quieter side of campus. I’m relieved to have my mind taken off Cage with Mom’s light chatter about trying to bake mincemeat pie this year, and after we hang up and I put my phone away, I’m in a slightly better mood. But as I get to the building where my class is held, I feel the skin on the back of my neck prickle. I feel someone following me.

I whip around, jumping back when I see a haggard, strung-out guy with greasy blond hair and reddened eyes. He’s wearing a rumpled button down and trousers.

“Hey, Karini,” Liam says.

I stumble backward into a dim hallway, and he follows me. Too late, I realize there’s no one else around.

My back hits a wall, and I start fumbling in my pack for my phone.

“Oh, come on,” he says. “If you call anyone you’ll be in even bigger fucking trouble than you already are. Just listen to me, you dumb twat.”

His tone of voice makes me freeze, ice-cold, terrified.

“But I gave you money,” I said.

“Yeah, and it wasn’t enough. And I knew that texting and calling you wasn’t gonna do any good. Last time you took for-fucking-ever.”

“It was a lot of money, Liam!”

“I know you can get more. I’ll bet your parents still live in that nice house.”

He smells as if he hasn’t showered in days, and I try not to gag on the stench. I can’t believe I ever saw anything in him, although this wasn’t the guy I first met. Not remotely.

I ask, “Did you already spend what I gave you”

From the look on his face, I get my answer.

“How could you spend it so fast?” I whisper.

He lets out an exasperated sigh, as if I’m wasting his precious time. One of his hands fidgets with his trousers, plucking at them. “Shut up. It’s not your business what I use the money for.”

But I can take an educated guess—all of the cash is gone, and his addiction is growing exponentially.

As I stare into his reddened eyes, a realization hits me hard: This harassment is never going to end. He’s always going to hold those pictures and videos over me. He’s never going to cut me loose…

Cornered, I feel anger rage through me. I’ve been way too easy on him, and I’m so damned sick of being afraid.

I hear voices outside the hallway. That, plus my rage, gives me the courage to push off of the wall.

No more cowering. No more trying to stop him from doing what he intends to do, because it’s useless.

“Listen closely, Liam,” I say as the voices outside come closer to the hallway. “I’m not paying you another dime, and I expect you to honor the agreement we already had. No doxing. No exploiting me.”

“Or what?”

There’s laughter outside the hallway now, and I should just run to whoever it is, report Liam to someone. But who? And is it possible that he would be able to release the pictures before he could be punished, even if it’s just to spite me?

But the look on his face pauses my panic: He’s stunned that I, the timid girl who couldn’t believe a guy like him would pay attention to her, is actually talking back to him.

He clenches his teeth, speaking through them. “You’re not only a stupid fuck, but you’re a little prude. I never should have wasted my time on you.”

Then he leaves before I can tell him that Cage Bryant sure didn’t think so, but I leave it at that. He can’t bait me anymore.

But have I pushed him into releasing those pictures, just because he can?

I quickly run to where I hear the voices outside the hallway. A few students go into a classroom, leaving everything around me empty.

Liam is even gone, but as the seconds pass, I realize that he could be around any of these corners. He isn’t really gone at all.

What have I done?

Somehow I sit through recreational math class, but I don’t hear a thing my instructor says. I go back to the apartment that I’m sharing with my two roomies, Victoria and Corrine, only to remember that they said something about going to a barbecue for a service club they want to join. This leaves me all alone with my horrific thoughts as I sit in front of my computer, scared to death to turn it on to see if Liam has carried through with his threats.

But I’m going to face this. I don’t have any other choice.

I surf the web, knowing it’s probably too early to find anything, but I don’t stop. I skip dinner in my anxiety, watch a movie online while checking the rest of the net in a small screen window, and I pray that the doxing won’t actually happen.

The sun sets through my room’s window, turning the mountain-studded horizon darker hour by hour, and finally, a text appears on my computer with a sharp ding.

Payback is a bitch…bitch.

Right below that are some links, and with my stomach churning, I access them.

Horror clouds my mind when I see where they lead, and when I find my pictures and videos spread all over the place, my stomach lurches.

I’m now the star on a porn site visited by millions and millions of people.