Fixated On You (Torn Series #5)

by Pamela Ann

  “I’m here, Em…” I whispered, crushed and very much in shambles. “I’ll keep waiting for you.” Cutting the call, I remained like a statue, unmoving and frozen on the spot.

  It was embarrassing to have become this way, yet they did say that love knew no boundaries. Insanity became its excuse.

  Chapter 21

  Emma

  With a heavy, drawn out, melancholy sigh, I leaned back against the couch, somehow hoping that my mind would stop thinking. Just for once, I wanted a moment of peace.

  Listening to Bass’s voicemail daily was terrifying. Without fail, he called every single day—night time his time—ever since I landed in Europe. His calls were like little mementos. I listened to them when I was feeling like I could no longer go on from missing him, from living without him, or maybe if I needed inspiration to move forward. Whatever the case, those short voice messages became my ill purpose.

  I felt like a seesaw. Each time I heard his voice, my heart would constrict and each and every time, memories of how much we used to love each other would annihilate me instantly, but the second the voicemail cuts off I would remember his photo with Nikki and that rotten video. That was when I wanted to hurl all over again.

  It was exhausting. I was always on the verge of tears due to heartbreak and anger. Yes, anger, from feeling like I was being played like a fool; like I would be insipid enough to tolerate such disrespect.

  Google was not good for my health, either. I was my own worst enemy because I knew the video was going to obliterate me, but even if that knowledge terrified the daylights out of me, I still searched out that damning video. Not only that, but I watched it twenty times; replaying it over and over again, killing me a thousand times over. Yet, I couldn’t seem to stop. I would scrutinize the damn thing, studying it like I was searching for the Holy Grail in that grainy file.

  However, no matter what angle, there was no room for doubt that the man in that video was my fiancé—ex-fiancé—being sucked off by that Russian cunt.

  Cece had nothing on Nikki. Most people would agree that those women were a rotten, disgusting bunch, and yes, both were despicable beings, however Nikki had gone for the kill. Cece, on the other hand, only played the petty, typical, high school tactics.

  After a little over two weeks of seclusion, I was back home again. It wasn’t a choice I had made voluntarily; Jacques had pushed me to go home and face my tumultuous life. He’d said, and I quote, “If you keep running away from your problems, happiness will run in the opposite direction. Never fear pain because it will only make you a stronger person.”

  So, after that monumental lowdown, I had to put my crybaby panties on and hop back across the pond to live my shitty life. I didn’t admit to it, but I knew that I had run away from a lot of my problems. It was one of my things; duck and flight. I knew this was one problem that would never go away, though. That was, unless I stood there amidst the storm, took whatever people hurled at me—let them try to hurt me—until that catastrophic part of my life was through. Yep, I was definitely growing up, much to my horror.

  Be that as it may, times were changing and I had to get with the tide and try to float my way around to survive this world I had helped create for myself.

  So as part of my “floating gear”, I let Amber and Trista persuade me to come to Carter’s Halloween party. I mean, this was our annual thing, so they hadn’t had to convince me that much to go.

  Now, dressed in my unoriginal, saucy-schoolgirl outfit, I double-checked myself; giving another onceover at the skimpy skirt that sat just below my ass. It didn’t matter if I looked hot in this outfit, I think Britney stole everyone’s thunder on that score. Nevertheless, the costume was comfortable. I didn’t have to suck my stomach in for the rest of the night, nor did I have to try to look provocative because the outfit did all the tempting for me.

  Since Lindsey was still with Dimitris, thanks to online classes, I went with T & T and Amber. It was odd to celebrate Halloween without Linds, but the woman was totes in love with her Greek. I think she was going overboard possessive with him, but then again, this was Lindsey Mason, after all. She didn’t do normal.

  “So, my girl, Cami, is planning to get it on tonight,” Amber announced the second we got outside Carter’s house, making me tense a bit.

  Trista snorted. “Hell, no, my Ashley will bag and hump those thighs,” she butted in, excited.

  I looked at both of them, speechless.

  It all made sense now. Just as I was remembering their faces, Trista turned to me, blue eyes full of curiosity. “What do you think, Em? Who do you think deserves Carter more? I’ve heard you met them, so I’m interested to hear your thoughts on this.”

  Could I just say awkward? WTF? I hated being put on the spot. How the heck was I supposed to know? I mean, I didn’t think any of them deserved Carter seriously. “No clue,” I murmured, pondering on Trista’s question some more.

  Cami.

  Ashley.

  Hell to the NO!!!

  When the girls started wagering who was going to slip and slide with Carter tonight, Taylor’s knowing eyes captured mine, catching me off guard. It was as if he knew what my thoughts were, disconcerting me some more.

  The smart guy knew too much. Not only was he Bass’s best friend, the guy was also way too intuitive for his own good.

  “Don’t say it,” I whispered, breaking our eye contact. He wasn’t technically a smartass, per se, but he would gladly dish it out to me if need be.

  I wasn’t being a stuck up bitch or anything, but when Carter saw us from across the room, he merely nodded our way before resuming his “talk with Ashley”, hands roaming about him and all.

  Um, what the fuck happened to Carter? I rattled on, frustrated as I looked away, pretending that everything was a-oh-kay and I wasn’t dwelling on the very fact that he didn’t even bother to come around and greet us. The man used to shower me with attention, and now that he wasn’t, I wasn’t all that sure I was happy with the sudden—very sudden—change.

  So for another thirty minutes, I pretended that I wasn’t watching him like a stalker as I sipped on my sugar-rimmed apple martini glass. Amber and Trista were busy socializing, so I was mostly left with Taylor. Thank goodness he didn’t utter a damn word about Bass or that question that left me with no answer of my own.

  When the newly transformed man finally came over to us, I had to gear up my best nonchalant acting skills, so I could give him a little taste of what he’d just done to me. However my plan took a nosedive when Taylor purposely excused himself to go get Trista. It was so obvious that he wanted to see how I handled this because, come on, I saw the look he gave me before parting himself from us. I wasn’t sure if that was good or not, but since he was Bass Cole’s best friend, I could only string so many theories. That aside, I now had Mister Mason, who didn’t seem too pleased to be left alone with me.

  “Carter,” I bit out, not looking at him directly as I sipped my drink, focusing my eyes on the people who were dancing raunchily on the sides.

  “Hi,” he said awkwardly. He too was glancing about as if he didn’t want to waste his time with me any longer.

  Well, hell, if he wanted to chill with others, he could go right ahead. He didn’t have to pretend to be a social host if he didn’t want to be. It was just me after all.

  “Something wrong?” I pressed, hoping he’d shed some light on his one hundred and eighty degree attitude shift.

  He paused, really looking at me this time. “Should something be wrong?”

  Right, why was he acting so standoffish? It was throwing me for a loop. “No, of course not… it’s just that…” I trailed off while I saw him raise his brow. “You’re acting weird. That’s all.”

  His dark eyes became intense. Moving his face a tad closer to me, he asked, “Weird?” His brows furrowed. “Weird, how?”

  You’re usually all over me, I wanted to say, but held off. The words were on the tip of my tongue, yet I was too embarrassed to say them.
“Never mind.” Chicken…

  “If you say so.” He shrugged, not caring. “Gotta go say hi to some friends. See you later, Ems.” He nodded his chin at me and then had the audacity to tap my shoulder as he walked away, heading straight back to the woman he had been talking with when we came in.

  WTF was up with him? Why, after all these months, did he choose tonight to be a dickwad again?

  I wasn’t going to lie, Carter pretending that I was of no importance bothered me more than I would like to admit, but I wasn’t going to make that known.

  We were, after all, free agents. Ex’s was all we were, nothing more. Besides, wasn’t I mending a battered and shattered heart? So why, oh why, did it tick me off watching him talk and laugh with Cami? Yep, it was getting more confusing by the second. But, I wasn’t going to let it get to me. You see, I had a companion tonight, Mister Jack Daniels. He too was just as hot, just as bold and just as full-bodied as my exes.

  Carter was messing with my head. As for Bass… Well, he could go fuck himself, too. Men were pointless.

  Look at me. I was already contemplating dropping out of my classes—yet again—for the second time because my brain was just so unfocused. Lindsey tried to convince me to do online classes like she was doing this semester, but honestly, I felt completely lost. So lost that I was even considering dropping out of the movie that was set to go into production soon.

  I was becoming unstable. Unreliable. Worthless. All because of all this bullshit around me. Had I told them to just shove it in their behinds, I wouldn’t be so messed up at the moment.

  Okay, so I was feeling unloved, unwanted and even though I was wearing something cute and sexy, the fact that Carter didn’t even bat an eyelash at my costume, made me feel really fugly. Yeah, fucking ugly.

  So to hell with all these bullshitters. Tonight, I was going to own it like a rockstar. The rest of the world could just back the fuck off.

  After slamming my drink down in one gulp, all I needed to do was find my target. He needed to be a good-looking, sexy distraction.

  Was I losing my mind? Probably, but you know what? I was going to let go and just live tonight. Damn straight, I had to start living, I thought as I made my way towards the dance floor. After all the pain and rejection—not to mention the endless supply of tears—I think I needed a night of fun. Heck, months of fun, if need be. Seriously.

  “Dance with me.” I pulled at the closest looking athlete I could find. It didn’t even bother me that he was talking to another woman because, tonight, I didn’t give a rat’s ass about anyone. Tonight was about me.

  The muscular man tensed, about to be pissed with me. “You can’t just yank me… and—” The jock scanned me up and down before grinning wickedly. “Damn girl, you’re really hot.”

  Fuck.

  Yes.

  I so was.

  I grinned back, touching the V of his shirt with my fingertips. “Feel like combining our hotness and see how we sizzle together?” I gave him a come-hither smile. Okay, my lines needed work, but fuck it. I’d been out of the game for so long, it was understandable that I was quite rusty with these situations. Yet my trick worked because the guy was now pulling me against his body, hands plastered all over me.

  This was me facing my fears my own way.

  As we danced, the nameless man’s hands roamed. I mean, seriously roamed big time around my body. Spinning around, I raised my arm and was about to dip it low when a sudden force yanked me away from the man’s body. The immediate withdrawal and the turn of events after made my alcohol-induced body boggled. I was about to tug away from the intruder, but when I looked up, I found dark eyes burning holes through me, promising Hell was about to come raining down on me if I didn’t get a grip of myself.

  “Emma!” Carter hissed, pulling me away before dragging me across the room.

  With my four-inch heels on, I was having a hard time keeping up with him without faltering. “Hey. Stop.” I said, hoping to slow down before I tripped twice in these suckers that were pinching my feet, however his grip got tighter around my wrist. “Stop!” I screeched. “Carter!”

  He brought us down towards his wine cellar/game room. He dragged me across the room, spun a red-leathered chair around and dumped me in it, nose flaring, before he stomped across the bar, got a tray laden with shot glasses on them before pouring Belvedere in all of them and marched back towards me.

  Sliding the tray towards me against the wooden table, he pierced me with hard eyes. “Drink.”

  He wasn’t the boss of me. Certainly not tonight, not fucking ever. “Fuck. You,” I spat at him, matching his gaze.

  “If you want to be a dirty, drunken little slut, well, here’s your chance.” He nodded towards the tray of shots. Those dark eyes were giving me serious hate before he placed both of his hands on the table, leveling his eyes at me. “Get drunk. Dance. Heck, take your clothes off if it makes you feel better. You can do whatever you want, but you can only do it here where no one can see you, take a picture of you and blast it all over the internet. No man would dare touch you, especially not in my fucking house. Not here, Emma. Not under my fucking roof, and most especially, not where I can easily see what the fuck you’re up to. You don’t disrespect me like that.” His jaw was locked, his teeth grinding down together.

  Pressing my lips together, I snatched a glass and raised it at him. “Here’s to you and your slutty dick. Five vaginas a la carte. For breaking my heart. For fucking with my mind so that I had to keep shit from my then boyfriend to keep you a secret because, fuck, I thought that I might still have feelings for you. But you know what? You can keep your cheating, deceitful, orgy-obsessed dick all to yourself. Cheers to that!” I took the shot, downing the entire contents like a pro. Carter was going to hear it from me. With all my hate between him and Bass, I could rant all night long.

  On to the next shot. I raised it again, my voice packed with rage. “Here’s to men who can’t keep their dicks inside their pants, and for love gone to waste because I chose you and Bass, and both of you trampled my trust. For fucking with my head so much, thank you for showing me that love is pure and utter bullshit.” His eyes sparked fire before I downed my second shot.

  Yep, I could do this all night long. Hopefully by then, each shot would be like drinking water. I’m sure I could get used to this.

  “Keep going. Let it all out. I want to hear how you really feel about my slutty dick,” he urged on, angry.

  Ha! He wasn’t happy about that reference to his dick. Ha. Funny. Ha.

  Raging on, I took hold of my third shot while my eyes spat fire at him. “I hate your cheating dick! If you had kept it to yourself—” I started getting even more furious by the second as I recalled that boathouse scene I had witnessed. “Maybe we’d still be together and I wouldn’t have been with Bass and experienced the most excruciating pain known to mankind.” Placing the shot glass back on the stained wooden table, I twirled it around, spilling some alcohol on the side. “Had you not cheated on me, I’d still be with you…” I choked up, remembering the feeling of neglect and the profound pain it had brought me. “You broke me then, Carter,” I whispered, feeling empty within. “But now Bass—” I murmured, having a hard time describing what I was going through at the moment; the betrayal, most of all. “Bass stole something from me… and I’m afraid that I might never get it back.” He so did. Now look at me, a dwindling shell of an old Emma while the bastard probably is busy playing precious family with that Russian tart, I thought acidly as I took the vodka shot, burning my throat. I didn’t even blink from the acrid pain.

  I was never going to be the same. I knew that, but accepting it was the hardest part. Baby steps, one day I’d get there.

  Carter moved behind me before wrapping his arms around my neck and whispering into my ear, “Do you feel better now?”

  Okay, I wasn’t going to lie; his technique worked a bit. “A little.”

  “Good, at least I helped somehow.”

  His breath tic
kled me, making me squirm and gasp at the same time. I was completely turned on. Given the amount of alcohol that was in my system, I could do whatever I wanted tonight and I wouldn’t remember it the next morning. “Carter, you’re turning me on. Stop…” Yeah, I didn’t sound convincing at all.

  He groaned, grabbing hold of the back of my chair and twisting it around, facing him. “Emma… come with me upstairs.” His thumb lingered on the lining of my skirt, caressing my heated skin while his eyes devoured me, not masking what his intent was for the rest of the evening. “We can party in my room all night long if you like. We’ll do whatever you want. Whatever pleases you, but spend the night with me. You won’t remember him by tomorrow, trust me.”

  Cocky much? “Trying to fuck me still, huh?” I wanted to sound irritated, but it somehow ended up like I was breathless for him, for his touch and the very feel of him. It bothered me… a lot.

  Carter didn’t even respond. His eyes did the talking. And boy, what those dark eyes could do to a woman. It was petrifying to be the intimate object they were scrutinizing. I felt hot. Stifled. Anxious. Bothered; there goes that word again. It just wouldn’t leave me for some reason.

  Dark. Hungry. Eyes. Fucked me on the spot.

  “I’m going home,” I announced before turning around and almost running out the door. For some odd reason, I couldn’t take the heat—what those looks entailed—I just fucking couldn’t. Carter and Bass had both thrown my heart in the gutter. Why should I give Carter a boost in his confidence by letting him know that, yes, he was still affecting me, greatly.

  Walking along the side pavement, I felt his presence behind me. Though he was stealthy, his scent gave him away. Carter’s scent was one of a kind, just like Bass’s. Put me in a dark room full of sweaty men and I could still tell which was which.