I must have stood there staring at that picture for a while, because I started to hear Jess's voice yelling for me over the phone. I slowly put the phone back to my ear.

"Jess?"

"Bella?" She was openly crying now. "Did you... did you see it?"

"I..."

I really didn't know what to say. I was still trying to figure out what I saw, and how that could have possibly happened. I realized that I was just around the corner from my house, and I was glad she sent me in that direction. She was right. I would want to be home for this. I needed to figure out what happened, do some damage control.

"Jess, I'm at my house," I said. "Let me call you back later, okay?" I hung up, not waiting for her to answer, because I knew she was going to cry and want me to listen, and considering what just happened, I really didn't have time for that.

I unlocked the door and bolted for the den, where my laptop was still sitting from the night before. I quickly opened up a browser and entered the URL from Jess's text message. I had excellent broadband service, and the page loaded much quicker than on my phone.

The pictures were also considerably larger on my laptop and much better quality. I could see so much more detail. I clicked on every picture under that heading, quickly moving to the next so that I could know the damage, the extent.

Everything was there. Every room. Every act. Every fucking position.

I realized, very quickly, that I was going to be sick, so I covered my mouth and ran to the bathroom, making it to the toilet just in time. I hadn't eaten lunch, so there wasn't much to come up, but I kneeled there for a while, staring at the water, random thoughts running through my head.

How did the pictures get taken?

Where were the cameras?

Who put them there?

How did the pictures end up on that website?

Was Edward -

Shit, Edward. It had to be Edward. He had to have taken the pictures, arranged for the cameras. I didn't want to believe it, but the proof was right in front of my face, glaring at me in beautiful 1080p. I certainly didn't know anything about it, so it had to be him.

And did I really know him? I mean, he was in plays with my daughter, with the local community theatre, but that was it. Other than that, I had no idea who he was. And then I started to think about his sexual aggression, how he attacked me in the elevator, in the foyer of the hotel room. How he pinned me to the bed.

I mean, I liked it. I thought I liked it. Maybe, in hindsight, I didn't. Now that I knew that he was some sort of perverted porn freak and that he exploited me for some sick fucking rush.

Goddamn it!

How could he fucking do that to me?

I went back to the site and scoured it for information.

It was a pay-per-view site. Basically, the pictures on the website that I saw were just the teasers, and if you gave them your credit card, you got unlimited access.

I started to get sick again, thinking of what the "unlimited" pictures could be. How much worse could this get?

I knew it was a bad idea, but I pulled out a credit card from my wallet. I grabbed the one I never used, the one just for emergencies, thinking that I could cancel it if the site stole my information and resold it.

I entered the information and waited.

It didn't take long, and when the pictures appeared, I clicked on them, one by one. There were literally hundreds of them. In chronological order, from the minute we stepped into the suite until we walked out. Every single room. Every single minute.

I just didn't understand it. I didn't understand how he could have done it. Once I started to think about it, I just became more and more confused. He would have had to have a camera in every room - actually, more than one camera in each room because there were pictures from several angles.

I grabbed my phone and started scrolling through my contacts, and I was calling him before I even realized what I was doing, what I would say.

It rang four times, and voicemail picked up.

Fuck!

I didn't want to leave a message. I mean, what would I say? "Hey Edward, it's Bella from the other night. Just saw the pictures online, and I was wondering what the fuck your problem is?"

Yeah, that wouldn't work.

So I hung up.

There was an 800 number plastered all over the website, so that was my next call.

Unfortunately, I spoke to four different guys, all wanting to sell me more porn. They basically just gave me the runaround. Finally, they sent me to the legal department, or at least what they told me was the legal department. I told them I wanted the pictures taken down immediately. I was told that all actors signed a legal release and that the pictures were perfectly legit.

I lost my shit and screamed at him that it was me in those pictures and that I could assure him that I did not sign a release, that I did not know I was being photographed, and if I did, that I would have never agreed to it.

He just repeated the same line to me over and over about how all of their actors sign legal releases. I finally hung up on him.

There was only one phone call left to make, and I dreaded it more than anything.

I had to call Charlie.

Yeah. Charlie.

Again - plot. More fluff coming. I swear. And plot too. Plot and fluff. Ploff.

Hopefully, you are all forgiving me for this 180, and hanging with me until we get sticky again.

P.S. - Y'all are ALL awesome. :)

LibbyLou862, I heart you bigtime.

All things "Twilight" belong to Stephanie Meyer. The remainder of the perversion is all mine. :)