Savage: Unapologetic

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Savage: Unapologetic Page 17

by Pamela Ann


  River hadn’t had the chance to drop by again, but Willa had. She would be back here in thirty minutes’ time, and we would ride to the venue together.

  Dressed in all black, my silk mini dress showcased my cleavage, my great tan, and my toned legs. The same vehicle and driver who came to pick me up greeted Willa and I in the underground garage.

  “What’s with the faded pink hair?” I couldn’t help asking her ten minutes later.

  Her face lit up, confident with her new punk rock chic look. “It’s so pretty, isn’t it?” She brushed a hand over her hair, quite delighted. “River thinks so, too. He prefers it straight instead of wavy.”

  There was something in her tone that made me look at her suspiciously. “I’m sure he does,” I bitingly remarked.

  My boyfriend wasn’t a crass person. Like that time she had come home with jacked up boob implants and they turned out to be crooked, River had smiled and told her they looked good on her. Willa had found a sugar daddy to pay for her uneven breasts the second she had turned eighteen. And to this day, the woman still hadn’t looked in the mirror yet.

  Trying to make a decent conversation without wanting to strangle Willa was a difficulty. So, I decided not to even bother. What was the point? She was delusional and her poor attempt at making me jealous made me roll my eyes from boredom.

  When we arrived at the arena, everything was chaotic. I barely got to say hi to Phoenix and Rock. It was insane. Everyone was doing something—rushing, yelling, double-checking that things were in place. River apparently made it a ritual not to have anyone in his dressing room while he readied to perform. He confined himself for two whole hours and didn’t emerge until it was time to hit the stage.

  After learning that fun fact, I remained in the shadows backstage. And when the show began, Phoenix and Rock had me next to them at the sound and visuals station, giving me a great vantage point of the show.

  River took the stage with a guitar hanging off him, and the arena went wild with glee. It was deafeningly loud. All I could do was grin silly. I was in tears, happy tears, because I was so proud of him. To be standing here, to be a part of this journey with him made me choke on my tears.

  “What’s up, Stockholm?” he boomed, making the crowd go extra gaga.

  “My muse is here tonight,” he began to say, smiling into the crowd. “She inspired most of the songs in my album. Just want to take this moment to thank you for loving me the way you do. Happy anniversary, baby.”

  Umm, what? We just got back like …

  Oh. He meant our first real anniversary. The day he had first kissed me. I had been fourteen years old.

  How had I forgotten? Now I felt like a useless girlfriend.

  Chapter Seventeen

  River

  Cara was waiting for me in my changing room backstage. And when she saw me enter the room, she rushed towards me and jumped on my body, hugging and kissing me everywhere. “That was so amazing!” she exclaimed.

  “We have to make a quick appearance at the club, then we can be on our way back to the hotel.” I laughed as I secured my arms around the bottom of her ass, lifting her in place before looking up to meet her lips. God, I’m so in love with her.

  “Sounds good, baby,” she breathed out.

  “I have something for you.” I kneaded her sweet, tight ass before setting her down. I strode over towards table and took the present that had been delivered a little over two hours ago.

  It was a Cartier diamond tennis necklace. She didn’t have a lot of jewelry, and I thought this could be a great start to spoil her. I intended to give her something sparkly each month. A token of gratitude for being such an amazing girlfriend and support system for me. I opened the large square velvet box and took out the glimmering necklace.

  “You didn’t have to!”

  Thoughtfully gazing at her surprised face, I stood right behind her as she automatedly lifted her hair, and I draped the diamonds around her neck. When I was about to secure the lock, something caught my eye.

  Faint red marks.

  A common courtesy of an impassioned lover.

  Something exploded inside me. It was hot, dark, and poisonous, and it took all of my control not to wrap my hand around that pretty neck of hers and demand some fucking answers.

  My jaw locked. My eyes burned into the fucking red marks on her skin. My hand still held the jewelry in place, and it took everything in me to secure the lock before mentioning anything.

  I remained behind her before I found myself tracing the marred spot on her skin. My Cara would never do anything so devious. She loved me, didn’t she?

  Ever so calmly, I spoke in a controlled-like, whispering tone, “What’s this on your neck, Cara?”

  She froze before a sharp gasp escaped her lips, as if she hadn’t expected it at all. “What?” she squeaked.

  My suspicions grew as I lifted my eyes to meet her troubled ones in the mirror. “It looks like a small hickey.” I sounded calm, eerily calm.

  “Oh, I didn’t realize I had one.” She ran a hand along her neck, anxious as she nervously smiled at me.

  I could easily spot a liar, but this was Cara; she deserved a benefit of a doubt, even if my body was too wired, too wounded up, and my instincts were telling me that this was just too fucking fishy.

  “Don’t tell me it’s from filming?” I slowly rubbed her shoulders while my heart rammed against my chest. Eyes still trained on her in the mirror, I noted everything that crossed on that beautiful face of hers.

  “Maybe …” she softly murmured, just barely heard. She dropped her eyes, so I wouldn’t be able to read the intricate lies they hid.

  Her deceitfulness was unexpected. Cara’s lying. Did she not realize I knew her more than she knew herself?

  Her breathing pattern altered before she took up courage and spun to face me. Slowly, she lifted those beautiful eyes I adored so much and granted me an uneasy smile. “Something’s happened.” Those beautiful doe eyes began to glass from unshed tears.

  My throat closed up. The pain she was about to inflict, I felt it just beat away from my heart. The suspense was killing me. Literally.

  “Dammit, Cara, just fucking say it!”

  She sniffed before placing a hand on my chest, feeling my heart against the palm of her hand. “The sex scenes in the movie … we did three …” she stammered while her lips wobbled. “Ever since that first scene happened, he’s been in my dreams and I hate it. I hadn’t expected this at all.”

  My body stopped functioning. Even my lungs ceased. My insides withered as her words pierced into me.

  She was dreaming of another man? The Spanish faggot she’d been dry humping for the past weeks, while I…

  I let out a dry laugh. I was the stupid idiot who fell for her innocent, sometimes demure personality. I should’ve known. The second she fucked Kyle Matthews, that was a huge red flag, but I chose to overlook that because I was fucking knee-deep in love with her. I knew she might get tempted, but for her to fucking dream it, it was all shades of fucked up.

  Cara balked, frowning at me. “Tell me this is normal? You’ve done scenes like that before. I’m sure you’ve experienced these feelings, too.” There was a hint of hope in her tone, as if she’d feel much better if I validated her excuses.

  “I sure as fuck didn’t dream them!” Christ. I was so incensed I could feel my body shake. Raking a hand through my hair, I sneered at her, suddenly feeling insane because my fucking mind wouldn’t shut the fuck up.

  My woman was out there, getting her fantasies on.

  What. The. Fuck!!!

  “Last night …” she began again, turning my blood cold.

  My eyes shut closed, weakened by this dismantling feeling of being stabbed in the heart. Whatever she was about to say next, nothing good would come out of it.

  “Last night, I was in Barcelona with him …” She trailed off before a choking, sobbing sound came out of her. “He kissed me, and he touched me in places he shouldn’t have,” sh
e stuttered, huffing and puffing as she clung to me. “I’m sorry. Please forgive me. I didn’t mean for it to happen.”

  My hand bunched up, trembling from rage, before I bit into my knuckle and tried to contain the seething rage that began to devour me whole. Because had I not, I’d have trashed the whole room.

  I took a glimpse down at the weeping Cara and immediately felt bombarded by this intense feeling of being suffocated. I took a step back, desperate to put distance between us, before I erratically paced like a maniac. This went on for a good minute before I stuck myself to the farthest spot the room allowed me to have, which wasn’t much at all. My eyes were drawn down, but the second I lifted my gaze to the distressed woman across the room, scorching anger and pure disdain emanated from them.

  “I’m in love with you. Nothing’s changed!” Big, fat tears rolled down her face, clearly miserable.

  Except that it did.

  Everything’s changed. How could she fucking lie to me? This was a different ballgame, and I sure as fuck didn’t want an audience while she played the field.

  My jaws locked. I could feel the ticking throb in my temple. She spoke of love, but all I saw was a lying, cheating slut who came here and kissed me like she didn’t just ruin the trust I granted her!

  Her words held no meaning. Not when she was going back to that man tomorrow, and the same thing happened again. Like a stupid, sick cycle, we would be back to square one. Cara was a sensual, wanton woman, and basing from her horrified face, Juan Torres knew it, too. This was the nightmare I never wanted to participate in. Cara and another man. Twice she had given herself to someone. And it seemed the third one was just knocking at the door, about to hit homerun.

  “Baby, please calm down.” Cara took a few steps, and I viciously growled, halting her unsteady steps.

  “Calm down!” I bellowed so loudly that I could feel the veins on the side of my neck pop out. “I hope that’s a joke, right? What did he do that’s gotten you to acting like some dumb whore? Didn’t I even enter your head? This is bullshit, Cara! You shouldn’t have come, because I’m this close to wringing your neck! How fucking dare you! Love me? Is this how you love someone, by getting fucked by some dude that you barely know?” White-hot fury built within me. It escalated quickly. I was hairsbreadth away from detonating.

  She swore they didn’t have sex, but she might as well have. In my eyes, it was all the same.

  “I wake up, go to bed, thinking of you. I fucking pray that you’re out there safe, and should there be any harm to come to you, I beg for it to come my way.

  “I’ve been so pumped coming out here so I could just see you. I insisted on Europe first because it’d be easier for us to see each other, and now you drop this bomb on me, and you expect me to calm down? Yeah, fuck you, too!”

  Her hand shook as she wiped her tears away. Her mascara began to run on her cheeks, ruining her perfectly made up face. “I’m sorry. I swear it won’t happen again. I was drunk, and just please trust me. I’m going to ignore him from now on. Filming will end soon. Just don’t push me away.” She looked ashen, shattered from my volatile reaction.

  Fuck.

  Even though I was in so much pain, it was almost unbearable to breathe, let alone think straight while seeing her in such a hysterical state. It fucked with my mind. I would never dream of hurting her. I always took care of Cara. Crazy as I was, when it came to her, there was always extra love, pouring her more attention, more of everything … and this was how my love was repaid?

  What.

  The.

  Fuck!!!

  My chest tightened as if a large boulder sat on it, choking me. A violent snarl vibrated from within before I spun around, turning my back on her. I savagely hit the concrete wall, furiously smashing it so hard until I could feel my skin split open and blood emerged. I couldn’t feel shit. I was too numb to comprehend anything apart from this abominable pain that heavily lodged in my chest.

  Cara hugged me from behind, and my body shook upon feeling her body close in on me while her tears soaked my shirt. “Stop, please. Stop hurting yourself! I’ll do anything, just stop,” she bawled hysterically.

  My chest heaved. It quaked. Something vicious unfurled within me, like a green-eyed monster needing to be fed with more blood to satiate its foul, soul-sucking hunger, never stopping until its craving was satisfied.

  Not again. I couldn’t go down that destructive path. The seed had already rooted, and it was only a matter of time until it would make a life of its own. And once it did, I would be enslaved to its heinous impulses.

  Cara’s fingers dug through my shirt, digging into my skin. “I can fix it … Let me fix this.”

  Fix it? There was one way to achieve that, but was she ready to take such great lengths to make amends? I intended to test it, because if I didn’t, she and I would drown, and this time, we wouldn’t be able to save each other. Once I walked away, I was really throwing everything away. Fuck love. Fuck the future. And my broken heart could choke on my damn dick.

  “Quit,” I heard myself say through rapid breaths. “I want you to quit the damn movie. You don’t need to work for the rest of your life. I make enough to last lifetimes together.”

  Ending her contract would only be a beginning. If she wanted forgiveness, she’d do a lot more to prove and gain my loyalty and trust again. But ending her contract was a good start to make amends.

  Cara froze, shocked, before an ugly, guttural sound came out of her. Like a cry, growl, and a whimper combined. “I’m under contract. You’re asking for the impossible.”

  To achieve the impossible, one had to sacrifice the unimaginable. “I’ll pay the fine for violating the contract. I don’t give a flying fuck. Just quit that damn production!”

  “This is my career we’re talking about, River. If I bail in the middle of filming, no one will hire me ever again. I could kiss my career goodbye. I’ll be ruined for the rest of my life.”

  We all had to make tough, selfish choices to get where we wanted to be in life. Tonight was just one pivotal moment for her.

  “I guess you just have to know which is more important to you, Cara.” Me or the damn movie.

  “Baby, please … don’t do this to me.”

  “I can’t believe what I’m asking of you, but I am. I’m begging you to.”

  She worked her blood, sweat, and tears to get noticed in Hollywood. I knew achieving that was no small, easy feat. Regardless, I remained resolute, determined not to change my mind. Cara cheated, and she would continue on this capricious path if she went back to that island tomorrow. And if she did … well, I wasn’t going to wait. So, she has to choose: me or that little raunchy film.

  She took a sharp breath before I felt her claws loosen their grip, releasing me from her tightened grasp. “I’ll do anything but that, River. Anything but.”

  A lengthy stretch of silence incurred. There was the sound of my phone beeping with notifications, the collapse of ice from the bucket crumbling as it began to melt, the deafening pound in my ears as if cymbals were being crushed into my eardrums, and there was Cara and her ragged breathing as if she were hanging on by a fine thread, weighing the inevitable.

  Then a loud knock came before Willa popped in with her cheery tone. “The ride’s here. Are we ready?” There was a drawn-out pause, as if she took in the hair-raising crackle of tension in the air. “Everything okay?”

  “We’ll be there soon. I’m not to be bothered. I’ll come out when I fucking come out.” Pressing my lips together, I took a deep breath before I spun around and gave her a deadpan expression. “Thanks, Willa.” All my life, I had never spoken to Willa in such a way, but I couldn’t muster being nice.

  Willa’s inquisitive eyes flickered between Cara and me, reading the tension between us before reluctantly closing the door behind her.

  Cara broke the silence. “River, please talk to me,” she roughly implored.

  When she tried to reach out to me, I slanted my head to the side, repulse
d at the thought of her touch.

  “I need your answer the moment we get to the hotel. For now … just let me … think. You owe me that at least.” I felt dead inside. Cara’s confession sucked the color from my world.

  I felt hollow. Betrayed in the most primal level. Self-destruction began to unfold as my mind battered me by unleashing the poison of doubt and insecurity. Wasn’t I enough for her? After she had different men in her bed, had a taste of what was out there, I assumed it was only natural for her to be curious. And look at her now. She had become this carnal nymph who couldn’t control her sexual urges.

  The irony was laughable. I’d find it funny, too, had it not been my heart on the receiving end of her infidelity.

  She had accused me of cheating while I was under contract, but she had cheated of her own free will. No one had forced her. She had wanted this to happen. She craved him too greatly to stop herself from cheating.

  So where did that leave me? I had no fucking clue. I was too consumed in wanting her that I hadn’t foreseen this ever happening. And knowing the wanton woman that she was now, Juan wasn’t going to stop trying to win her over. And if he were to succeed, should I wait for that dreaded phone call, or should I just cut my losses now?

  I loved her too damn much, yet I wasn’t going to sit back and wait for her to come around. If she decides to choose the movie, then I have to let her go. Set her free.

  No. This had to be done. No sane man would tolerate such disrespect. Each time I would touch her I would always wonder who she was thinking about. I just couldn’t have that, not with her.

  I had failed at trying to rekindle the love we once had. I had been a deluded idiot believing that once I had her in my arms, things would fall back into place and it would be just like old times. Yeah, deluded idiot I sure as fuck was.

  The diamonds glinted around her dainty neck. A beautiful icy emblem of the woman she had become. A token of the years we had together, packed with lost love, dimming memories, nerve-wracking heartbreaks, and chilling betrayals.

  As Oscar Wilde would say: The only way to get rid of temptation is to yield to it.

 

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