Sinner Takes All_ A Memoir of Love and Porn Part 6

This was the first time I turned to him to help me handle my s.h.i.t. And when he did, I realized what a strong man I had in Evan. He made me feel safe, and I needed that.

EVAN: I just thought, OK, well, I've known him for a decade. My band Biohazard and his band House of Pain toured together in 1994 and we were all friends. Erik and I weren't boys, though. He was just a little less friendly than his band mates, but I didn't have any animosity toward him. Even though this would be awkward, I knew what I had to do. I had to give him a call and straighten this out. I just thought, OK, well, I've known him for a decade. My band Biohazard and his band House of Pain toured together in 1994 and we were all friends. Erik and I weren't boys, though. He was just a little less friendly than his band mates, but I didn't have any animosity toward him. Even though this would be awkward, I knew what I had to do. I had to give him a call and straighten this out.

It was a Sunday afternoon and I called him up. Erik put on his hip-hop voice and said, "Who dis?"

"It's Evan."

He got quiet.

"Why you calling my house on a Sunday?"

"You know why. It just came to my attention you're blowing up my girl's phone. Thirty messages from you? She ain't seeing you no more, she's with me."

This was awkward for me, too. I'm not the kind of guy who wants to step on another guy's territory, but this wasn't that situation. I knew Tera was telling me the truth when she said they hadn't been seeing each other.

"This is my girl and I love her. Don't call her anymore," I told him.

I remember him saying something like, "I ain't sweating her. I don't give a f.u.c.k about her. She's just some p.o.r.no b.i.t.c.h," he said, sounding like a hurt guy. He was so negative. Then he said, "Y'all two are mad corny."

"'Corny'? What do you mean 'corny'? What the h.e.l.l?"

"Ya'll just corny, both of you. If I see y'all at the club, you all should bounce."

"Dude, I haven't seen you in a club in ten years. Just stop calling."

(That was the last she heard from Erik, until five years later in 2008 when Tera cohosted a party at Mandalay Bay in Las Vegas for a tattoo parlor opening and she had to introduce both Everlast and my new band the Spyderz. We never saw him, talked to him, or heard from his camp that night, though.)

TERA: As I said Everlast's name on the mike that night in 2008, all I could think about was, "You said no one would want to marry a p.o.r.n star? Evan was man enough to." I felt good. I won out in the end. As I said Everlast's name on the mike that night in 2008, all I could think about was, "You said no one would want to marry a p.o.r.n star? Evan was man enough to." I felt good. I won out in the end.

While Evan and I didn't fight over Erik or my past, we did fight about his past. I had the green-eyed monster in me when I first met Evan. I think I was so insanely jealous because I was so afraid of losing this amazing man. I couldn't believe this fairy-tale romance was real. I was very skeptical of it and had a hard time accepting the love he was trying to give me.

Our very first fight happened shortly after we met, when I was visiting him in Brooklyn. He was on the phone with his ex-girlfriend and I overheard him say to her, "Listen, I'm in love. I'm with Tera now. You're gorgeous. You'll find someone else." Apparently, his ex-girlfriend wanted Evan back and Evan was turning her down gently. In my warped mind, instead of being happy at hearing him say he's happy now and not to call him, I latched on to the "you're gorgeous" part of that call and flipped out on him. I turned around and spat venom at Evan: "Who is gorgeous? Who are you talking to?"

"Uh, it's my ex. I'm telling her I'm with you," he said.

"Why are you talking to your ex in front of me?" I screamed. I completely overreacted and freaked out on him. "How dare you tell her she's gorgeous? You are never to talk to your ex again." I was irrational and I just went off.

He was like, "OK, you're right. I'll never speak to her again."

Looking back on it now, I can't believe how crazy jealous and insecure I would get on him and how he always handled it the same way: with compa.s.sion, understanding, and respect. Evan had the patience of a saint with me. Any other man would've left my insecure bulls.h.i.t and me. But Evan called me on that bulls.h.i.t and gave me what I needed in a relationship: love, support, and, at the time, constant rea.s.surance. He handled me like a pro. He always made me feel better and made me trust him and he never did cheat on me or do anything wrong. But it took a while before I could believe it was true. It took me a while to really trust that I found the one thing I was searching for my whole life: a man to treat me well and whom I could love until death do us part.

*CHAPTER 16*

The Happiest Girl in the World Ireally did know that Evan would be my husband on that first night together. I never believed in that until it happened to me. With Evan, I just knew it. My previous two engagements to Clayton and Roland didn't even count. I was young and naive then, and even though I accepted their proposals, deep down I never felt that either of them was the one. Besides, there was always a side of me that wanted to wait until I was older to get married because I had seen what getting married too young did to my parents.

Evan and I were inseparable during the first few months of our relationship. It was a pa.s.sionate, crazy, emotional, s.e.x-crazed time. I wanted to spend more time with Evan and less time working, but Digital Playground was making it hard for me. I'd be preparing to fly to New York to see Evan, and my manager, Sam, would all of a sudden have a job for me that weekend. It felt like she was trying to keep us apart. But there were certain jobs I just had to do, such as appearing at the Venus adult film expo in Berlin, Germany, in October 2002. I was booked in Germany for two full weeks, and I didn't want to be apart from Evan for that long, but Sam made me go.

I was busy every day at Venus signing autographs, meeting distributors, and schmoozing. And I was calling Evan constantly. I missed him so much and I was going through my jealousy phase, which was making me insecure about being apart. Instead of going to any of the Venus parties or events, I would stay in my hotel room, talking to Evan for hours. We were still in the honeymoon period of our relationship, as it had only been a month since our first date and we were head-over-heels in love.

Evan called me constantly too. We both just missed each other a lot and loved to hear the sound of the other's voice. One day on this trip, I called Evan and he wasn't there. No worries. He usually calls back immediately. I figured maybe he was just in the bathroom or the shower or something. But then an hour went by and still no Evan. Two hours went by and I began to think the worst: He's with another girl! I was getting furious, and each message to him got more frantic. I started out all sweet and loving, "Hi, Evan, it's me. I miss you. Call me." And by the time I left my fifth message it was, "Where the f.u.c.k are you? What the f.u.c.k are you doing? You better not be with another girl! You f.u.c.king a.s.shole!"

Twenty-four hours later, I called his cell again and his friend Robey picked up. I said, "Where the f.u.c.k is Evan? What the f.u.c.k is going on?" He told me Evan was in the hospital. Evan and his friend Tyson Beckford, the model, were taking the air conditioner out of his Brooklyn loft because I had complained it was too drafty in there and Tyson dropped it on Evan's foot and broke his toe.

I felt like a fool. Here's this man doing something sweet for me to make my visits to Brooklyn more comfortable, and I'm thinking he's out gallivanting with some chick. I felt horrible and told myself that I had to stop being so crazy and just trust this man. That made me miss Evan even more.

I missed him so much that I slept with my phone so I wouldn't miss his call. But one morning I woke up and my phone wasn't in my bed. I panicked. Sam told me that I must have dropped my phone somewhere and not to worry; we'd report it stolen and get a new one.

Later that day, Sam left her purse in the back of the cab and a phone fell out (but we didn't know it at the time). Next thing I know, I'm borrowing Sam's phone to call Evan and before I can dial, the phone rings. I wouldn't normally answer someone else's phone but it was in my hand, so I picked up. I didn't notice that when the call came in, it said TERA CELL on the screen, but it must have because it was the cab company calling to say they found a phone and dialed the last number called to try to find the owner. I asked what number it was, and they read me my my number. I was shocked. Sam had apparently taken my phone and hid it in her purse. I told them I'd be right there to pick it up and then I called Evan and said, "I want to come home right now." number. I was shocked. Sam had apparently taken my phone and hid it in her purse. I told them I'd be right there to pick it up and then I called Evan and said, "I want to come home right now."

I had my suspicions about Digital and Sam, but that incident made it clear to me that it was time to leave. I called her out on the phone situation and she admitted that she had taken it. She said, "Well, I saw how much you were talking to Evan and I thought it was really unhealthy, so I was just trying to protect you." She had a great way of manipulating me. I told Sam, "You need to let me live my life. I really love this guy. He's not a bad guy. He's really good to me. Why can't you be happy for me?"

I was furious and couldn't wait to get home. But when I called Evan, he had something else in mind. "Don't go home to California. Come to Miami with me," he said. "I want to take you on a nice vacation. You need to get away."

He met me at the airport on crutches from his broken toe. My heart melted at the sight of him. I didn't care where we were going or what we were going to do. All I wanted was to be together. But he had more in store. He went all out and booked a king suite with an ocean view at one of Miami Beach's most upscale and elite resorts: the Art Deco Delano Hotel. It was one of the most beautiful hotels I had ever seen. It looked like a scene from an Old Hollywood movie starring some blond starlet like Veronica Lake in a white silk robe, walking around in marabou and satin slippers with a kitten heel, and smoking out of one of those fancy long cigarette holders. The suite was elegant in all white with sheer curtains that hung from ceiling to floor and a huge king bed with big fluffy white down covers and inviting pillows. Even the floor tiles were white. It was so pristine that I didn't want to touch anything. It was simply stunning. And Evan had the room set up with all of my favorites--fresh strawberries, champagne, and rose petals. I was floored.

Of course, we couldn't wait to tear each other's clothes off, so we had s.e.x immediately. In the middle of our romp, there was a knock on the door. I ignored it, but Evan stopped f.u.c.king me and jumped up. Evan usually doesn't stop for anything. The house could be burning down and he'd keep on going.

"Don't you get that," I said.

"I have to!" He seemed anxious and started to head for the door. I didn't want him to leave so I grabbed his arm and pulled him toward me. I'm a lot stronger than you'd think. He broke free so I lunged for his leg. As he made his way toward the door, there I was clinging comically to his leg and stopping him from getting very far. There's another knock on the door. Evan finally broke free and with nothing on but a towel covering his still-erect p.e.n.i.s, he opens the door to find a bellboy with a FedEx package. He ripped open the envelope, and I could see there was a ring box inside. Before he could say anything, I knew what was about to happen. I knew this was the moment in my life that I would never forget. I was about to become the happiest girl in the world.

He took the ring out, got down on one knee, slipped the ring on my finger, and said, "Linda, will you marry me?"

"Yes! Of course!" I said. I had been waiting for this moment my whole life. It was the perfect proposal: simple and surprising. I couldn't believe it was happening to me. I had spent so many years crying myself to sleep, praying for a man like Evan to spend my life with, and here was the moment. I couldn't have been any happier. We went out to dinner that night to celebrate with friends.

The next day, we drove to Evan's parents' house in Boynton Beach, Florida. It was so nice to be with a man who was proud to introduce me to his family. They were completely blown away that we got engaged so fast. It had only been two months since we met in person for the first time and five months since we started our phone courtship. They were supportive, but understandably surprised. We started talking about wedding plans immediately. Knowing neither of us had a lot of money at the time, Evan's mother, Lois, said, "Oh, I have a great idea. To save money, you can wear Elena's wedding dress."

She did not just say that! Elena? Really? Elena?!

Elena was Evan's ex-wife and mother of his son, Sammy. My eyes welled up when Lois said that, and poor Evan was beyond mortified. ("She was just being a cheap Jew," Evan said to me about it later.) Later in the evening, Lois whispered to Evan, "I'm not going to get attached." I didn't take it personally. Evan didn't exactly have a good track record with women. His dad, Ira, used to call the constant turnover of girls in his life "The Girlfriend of the Month Club." But I was different. I was here to stay, and I knew he wasn't going anywhere. His mother would eventually learn this too. It was just a matter of time.

(Evan had already met my dad, under inauspicious circ.u.mstances. Shortly after we met, Evan was visiting me at my condo in Sherman Oaks. We had just finished having s.e.x . . . that's all we did back then, have s.e.x and order food from Pink Dot, a famous delivery service in the L.A. area that delivers you anything, anytime, in this weird little blue-and-pink polka-dot car.

Evan heard a key enter the lock at my front door. He bolted out of bed, stark naked, and asked me, "Where's your bat?"

"Bat? What bat?"

In Brooklyn, Evan kept a bat by his bed. I didn't have one, so he grabbed the most lethal-looking item he could find in my apartment: a large, heavy stone ashtray.

"Who's there?" he asked.

"It's David. I'm coming in," a man said.

"I don't know no David," Evan snapped.

"I have the keys. I'm coming in," he replied.

As the door started to open, Evan held the ashtray c.o.c.ked overhead in one hand and swung open the door with the other, which made the man literally fall into the condo. He grabbed the long-haired, hippie-looking man by the neck and hung him over the balcony railing and said, "You better start talking."

By this time I'd emerged from the bedroom to find Evan holding my father over the railing.

Evan turned beet red. He immediately let go of him, apologized profusely, and we all had a good laugh about it. My dad had come to the condo that night to get his car keys because he'd left his car in my garage when he went on a trip to Hawaii. He didn't want to wake us by calling, so he used the set of keys I had given him. Not exactly the best way for Evan to meet the father of his future bride.) I was the happiest I'd been in a long time, but at the same time I felt really sad that I didn't have anyone to share my news with and those I did tell were skeptical because we were moving so fast. I'd call up "friends" with the big news, and the reaction would typically go like this: "Come again? You're engaged? Tera, you just met this guy. That is crazy."

It might have seemed crazy, but sometimes crazy pans out. Why is it so hard to believe that you can meet someone and fall in love instantly? When you know, you know.

n.o.body believed in us in the beginning, but that only made our bond even stronger. It felt like Evan and me against the world, and I liked that. What people don't realize about Evan is that he may come off tough and in charge, but if it weren't for him, I wouldn't have found my true independence and strength. He helped empower me to take control of my life and of my career and helped me become a better woman in the process. He got me through the toughest times in my life. He wasn't the one marrying me because I was a p.o.r.n star. I was the one marrying him because he was a rock star, and I always wanted to marry a rock star. I just got lucky that my rock star was also my rock in life. The one solid thing I could always count on for all of my needs.

*CHAPTER 17*

The Storm Before the Calm In November of 2002, I called my manager, Sam, and told her that I was no longer going to be with Digital Playground. I liked the break I had taken, and now I was in love and getting married and I thought this was my chance at having a normal life. I didn't want to work for Digital anymore. I didn't want to be in the p.o.r.n industry. I just wanted to be in love and play house with my new man. Of course, I was under contract so it wasn't going to be that easy to get away. She told me I was making a big mistake and not to trust Evan, that he was a rock star who would just cheat on me.

Despite what had happened in Germany, I was actually surprised at Sam's reaction when I told her I wanted out. Digital Playground wasn't just my manager and production company, it had been like my family, especially Sam. I honestly thought she'd be happy for me that I met a great guy and fell in love and that she would want for me what I wanted for myself. That is what a friend does. That is what your closest confidante does. That is what your "mother figure" does. That is what I expected Sam to do. I expected her to support me. But instead she supported Digital.

Leaving Digital also meant leaving my cohosting gig on Playboy TV's Night Calls, Night Calls, which I loved. My last episode taped the last week of December. My contract had expired, and which I loved. My last episode taped the last week of December. My contract had expired, and Playboy Playboy didn't renew it because I wasn't with Digital anymore. But it was OK. I was ready to move on and make a clean break. didn't renew it because I wasn't with Digital anymore. But it was OK. I was ready to move on and make a clean break.

Evan said to me, "Look, I don't want to get into your business, but you need help. Where I come from, your manager and your production company shouldn't be the same thing. You have a conflict of interest here. And I don't think they are going to let you go that easily." He was right, and things got nasty pretty quickly.

I just cried. "My life is over, isn't it?"

"It's not over, but it's going to cost you a lot of money to defend this and we don't have the money," he said.

I can't go into the legalities of it, but I was able to keep some money that I had in the bank. I got rid of my condo in Sherman Oaks, got rid of the Infiniti that Digital leased for me, and moved in with Evan in Brooklyn for the next year or so.

Digital filed a breach of contract lawsuit against me that same month, and we countersued for damages. I was ready to just give up. I didn't think I had a chance and was just too tired to fight.

But then Evan sat me down and said, "Listen, I love you very much and I just want you to realize that no matter where you go in the world, no matter what you do, you're always going to be Tera Patrick. Don't give up on that. We will fight this together. You should really think about capitalizing on who you are. Everybody else has made money from you, and I know you want to give up and never want to work again and I know you're really enjoying your life right now, but you should really go out and fight for what is rightfully yours."

Even though I had been on a self-imposed hiatus leading up to this mess, I still knew that I would want to reenter the business at some point. The big deal for me, and what made me fight so hard, was that they wanted to take my name. I created the name and worked very hard to get to this point in my career. I couldn't stand the thought of them owning my name and being allowed to make money off of me for the rest of my life. The thought of that drove me crazy.

I'll admit it, once the fog lifted and I looked at my situation, I got p.i.s.sed as h.e.l.l for being so naive as to have signed such a bad deal. I was so angry with myself. And I was so resentful at my situation. That's why I tried to hurt myself. I felt so stupid. Why wasn't I smarter? I went from not having the fight in me to fighting mad to suicidal in a matter of months. I knew I was on a slippery slope, so I decided to stop drinking and smoking pot. I quit cold turkey. I had to fight this with a clear head and sound mind. But I couldn't do it alone.

Alcoholics Anonymous helped me with that. It didn't get off to a great start when I went to my first AA meeting in Brooklyn in January 2003 completely high as a kite. I was very nervous about attending this meeting so I smoked a joint before I went. It sounded like a good idea at the time, and I'm sure I wasn't the first person to get high before a meeting. Evan didn't notice at first. I kept it cool for the drive over. But as we settled into the metal folding chairs at the meeting and my high kicked in further, Evan caught me staring at the plate of doughnuts on the table for an inappropriate amount of time.

"Oh my G.o.d. Are you high?" he whispered in my ear.

"I'm totally wasted!" I laughed. I thought it was funny. It wasn't.

He just had this look on his face like, "OK. I'm sorry, but the answer we're looking for is not not wasted." wasted."

I couldn't understand a single thing the speaker said. As the gentleman told his story about being addicted to meth, my thoughts shifted from "I wonder if there's any coffee left?" to "Those doughnuts are probably stale but stale doughnuts are better than no doughnuts" to "My b.u.t.t hurts from sitting on this chair" to "My mouth is so dry, where is the water?" to "Meth? s.h.i.t, that's f.u.c.ked up. At least I'm not on meth!"

At the end of the meeting, a guy came up to me and said, "Tera, I'm your biggest fan. Will you sign my AA book?" So much for the "anonymous" part of AA. I was creeped out and vowed to never go to a coed AA meeting ever again. My paranoid mind thought my fans were everywhere, and maybe they were. But Evan encouraged me to try a different meeting and give AA a second chance. "Maybe you'll find fellowship at a different meeting," he said. "Fellowship" is "friendship" in AA terms.

So the next meeting I tried was a women-only meeting on Park Avenue. I figured those "ladies who lunch" in their Chanel suits, conservative pumps, and fur coats don't watch p.o.r.n, and my ident.i.ty would be safe there. I was right.

I'd never been to Park Avenue before, but when I walked into the meeting and saw such a diverse mix of women all chatting amicably in low, soothing voices, it felt nice. It felt serene. It felt safe. There were no creepy guys there to recognize me. I doubted these ladies had watched a minute of p.o.r.n in their lives. I sat down next to a distinguished-looking woman with white hair, salmon-colored slacks, and a very proper blouse. It felt so Park Avenue to me, and that was a good thing. The woman immediately embraced me and said, "h.e.l.lo, dear. Welcome to the Park Avenue meeting. You're a new face. Tell us about yourself."

Oh, great. It was nice to be welcomed, but the worst part about being new to a meeting is that you're encouraged to "share," and I wasn't exactly comfortable sharing my story. I had to say something something, so I started with the expected: "Hi. I'm Linda. I'm an alcoholic and addicted to marijuana."

"Hi, Linda," the group said in unison.

I was just going to give the basics: "I live in Brooklyn with my fiance and my stepson. I just moved here from L.A. and I don't really know anyone. I'm just trying to get through the days." There, I "shared." But then something came over me. I somehow found myself pouring my heart out and sharing my whole story. These women seemed so warm and understanding to me. And I especially felt a lot of support and comfort from the white-haired woman next to me. It's hard to describe, but I could feel her giving me strength. She was very attentive, and I could tell she was sincere. We connected. I continued on to tell the group about everything--my lawsuit, my craziness, my relationship, everything. I started out telling them a little white lie that I was a model, but by the time I was done sharing they knew all about my p.o.r.n career. I feared their judgment, but they couldn't care less. No one judged me. This was a group of women where one was a s.e.x addict, another had a twenty-year battle with booze and drugs, another woman was sleeping with her husband's friends, and so on and so on. Everyone had their own issues and demons, and mine didn't seem so big after all.

After I told my story, everyone clapped. I felt oddly at home. The woman in salmon next to me officially introduced herself to me. "Hi, Linda. I'm 'Sandy.' So, you do p.o.r.n? Well, that woman over there is married to a famous musician. And the girl over there used to be a singer. . . ." And "Sandy" (as I'll call her) proceeded to tell me who's who and then she said, "You didn't think you were the only one into s.e.x, drugs, and rock-and-roll, now did you?" I felt relieved, and we exchanged numbers.

Sandy became a real anchor for me while I was in Brooklyn. I went to the Park Avenue meeting regularly and talked to her all the time. I liked AA, and I found peace there. And I found a new friend, one who was older and wiser. She was more experienced, had a broader outlook on the world, and put things in perspective. She was like a mother to me.

That year for my birthday I chose to celebrate it with an intimate dinner with just Evan and Sandy and her husband, who both showed up in matching salmon outfits. I still talk to Sandy occasionally to this day.

Evan was right. I found fellowship in AA. It guided me through a difficult time and helped me stop abusing alcohol and pot. I didn't drink or get high for two years. But that didn't mean I didn't have other other demons to deal with. demons to deal with.

One cold February day at Evan's loft in Brooklyn in 2003, we got a call from my attorney, and the details of the case just overwhelmed me. I lost it. I remember thinking that they had won and my life was over. I decided to end my life and end the misery I had been in. It felt easier to quit than to fight. I was so angry that I just wanted to hurt myself. All of these intense emotions came over me and I went into a rage. I don't remember what happened next. But Evan will never forget, so I'll let him tell the rest of this story. . . .

EVAN SEINFELD.

Before I can explain what happened next, let me back up a bit. Leading up to her mental breakdown and suicide attempt, she was all over the map emotionally. On her good days, she was really excited to be in love and she was happy nesting in my Brooklyn loft. She kept herself busy by decorating, cleaning, shopping, and cooking for Sammy and me. When she was feeling "up," we'd go out to parties and dinners or stay in and have s.e.x all night.

On her bad days, the legal drama with Digital Playground would get her down and she'd spend the entire day in bed or she'd cry uncontrollably and break down, asking, "Why is this happening to me? How could I have been so stupid?" And on her really really bad days, her feelings would turn into crazy, irrational thoughts and violent outbursts. It was like a switch would turn on in her head and she'd have a detached, vacant look on her face like she was looking right through me. When she got that look, when that switch turned on, there was no reaching her. She would begin to say irrational things and start accusing me of being part of the problem. I was always defending myself. Tera's way when things got her down or when bad things happened was to lash out at those closest to her. bad days, her feelings would turn into crazy, irrational thoughts and violent outbursts. It was like a switch would turn on in her head and she'd have a detached, vacant look on her face like she was looking right through me. When she got that look, when that switch turned on, there was no reaching her. She would begin to say irrational things and start accusing me of being part of the problem. I was always defending myself. Tera's way when things got her down or when bad things happened was to lash out at those closest to her.

"You know what? You're just like everybody else!" she'd scream at me.

"I'm your fiance. I love you. I'm trying to help you," I would try to explain.

"Yeah, well you probably just want to see what you can get out if it." She was relentless.

These episodes started getting more and more severe, and each one would last longer than the previous one. She'd turn that anger toward me and start screaming about how she hated me. She'd threaten to leave me, but then she'd snap out of it and have these moments of clarity and apologize. She was under extreme emotional stress, and I felt helpless.

When she got really really worked up, she'd start throwing things at me. One day, she picked up a twelve-pound gla.s.s candle holder and clocked me in the head with it. It knocked me loopy. worked up, she'd start throwing things at me. One day, she picked up a twelve-pound gla.s.s candle holder and clocked me in the head with it. It knocked me loopy.