Torn Series: A Bundle Set 1 - 10

by Pamela Ann

  “How much do you need to go away?” Amber asked, dead serious.

  “Bass Cole. That’s my currency. He’s mine,” the Russian bitch spat out, proud. “Tell your blonde friend that I look forward to getting my man back.”

  Amber launched herself at Nikki. “You dirty son of—”

  I pulled her away before she reached the Russian psycho, not wanting to cause any trouble. Nikki gave us an evil smile before leaving the restroom.

  “I almost had her, Linds! What the hell!” Amber rubbed the spot where I gripped her hard, her skin a tad sore.

  “I had to. Didn’t you hear her? She’s a cookie. She’d get you in trouble and you don’t want your parents to get on your case.”

  Trista chimed in, “You can’t reason with a mental person; a pregnant one to boot. Not to mention the kind of crap she’d come up with to make Emma look bad if you beat her pretty, little face up.”

  What a dumb dick Bass’s penis was. Of all the women to attract, he sure did choose the perfect one out of the pack, pun intended. He sure was lucky Emma was staying with him because if that had happened to me, no matter how hot or how delicious you are, I won’t tolerate shit like that. Bass was a great man, but what the fuck? This was just too much for Emma, especially after what happened last year. Girlfriend couldn’t even catch a break.

  She was suffering, but she loved Bass. What good would love do if you’re only to suffer? What happens when she sees this woman swollen and very pregnant with Bass’s child? There was a fifty perfect chance that it was his. The risk was too big. The damage would be beyond irreparable.

  I would have never thought anything could come in between Emma and Bass, but a crazy, baby momma and a little Bass would surely bury their relationship. Looking at it from this angle, I ached for my friend and what she’d go through. Never in my life, especially a beloved friend of mine, had I even dared think this, let alone consider it, but I was almost wishing that she’d go back to Carter.

  My brother fucked himself all the way to Mars, but seeing him now, I know he loved Emma and would take her back in a heartbeat. Or maybe she could merely be single and enjoy being in this new celebrity status that she was having while she dated other men. Then again, this was Emma, who knew what went on in that pretty, little head of hers.

  I knew one thing, though, I’d bet her chunky ass that she’d want to deck Nikki herself.

  Chapter 17

  “Do you think it’s Bass’s kid?” Trista wondered out loud while we sat on the couch, eating breakfast.

  I shrugged, not wanting to say anything. We were still reeling from his birthday party last night. Clearly, Nikki had pissed us all off.

  Amber grabbed the orange juice carton, pouring as she let us in on her theory. “This is dumb and so random, but maybe Emma wasn’t meant to be with him? Didn’t you guys notice that there’s just too much crap around those two? Maybe she’s meant for Carter. Soccer-stud had definitely turned a one-eighty for our girl.”

  “Bass will make you his public enemy number one if you keep yapping like that, Amber!” Trista glared at her, protective of Bass.

  ~L~

  I came out of my bedroom, fresh from a shower and about to hunt down some lunch when I stopped and gawked at the catastrophic sea of lemons everywhere in our home, along with vase after vase of peonies. “What the fuck is all this? Did you guys open up a flower shop without the fucking shop or what?” I yelled, not understanding all this crap around me.

  Trista came out of the kitchen, lips smudged with chocolate icing, grinning. “Apparently, it’s Emma’s and Bass’s one fuck-year anniversary.”

  “Huh?”

  “The day he slid his kinker-tool and dug some gold in her goldmine.” Trista wiggled her eyebrows, amused.

  Okay, this was extremely sweet of Bass. “But lemons?” I mean, it made the house smell like lemonade, but seriously, lemons? Peonies were divine, the lemons, I had to ponder some more.

  “A painting and a gazillion loads of pastries all shaped like a fucking lemon.” Trista smirked when she said the citrus fruit.

  “Girlfriend needs to let us in on the lemon joke. Where is Emma anyway?” I looked around the kitchen for her, but instead, I found a massive painting that would fit on an entire wall. It was a picture of an island covered by lemon trees with Greek Amphitheatre ruins and a picnic basket as well as… what the hell… “A BLT sandwich?”

  “No clue,” Trista mumbled before stuffing herself with more of those delicious looking lemon-shaped chocolate cakes. “She didn’t even explain any of this crap, dude. She basically ran into her room, squealing like she had won the lottery.”

  The stunning Aegean Sea, the sun, the food and the beguiling beauty of the country itself, I had missed it. “Huh. Nice island, though. Will Bass invite us to stay?” The question was out before I stopped it, not really thinking.

  “Bass is cool. Whenever you’re ready to step on Greek soil, let me know. I’d love to go back with Taylor again and visit Mykonos.” Maybe later on, but certainly not anytime soon. I suppose I would have to miss out on that vacation with them.

  Blocking thoughts of Greece or anything Greek related, I joined her and tried the chocolate cake she’d been lavishing on. Oh dear, I thought, moaning as the decadent combination of cocoa and confectionary that was produced in absolute divinity brought an orgasm into my mouth.

  “Apparently, BC ordered these from Paris. These have truffles and gold dust in them.” Trista grinned again, taking another bite. “Dude, will we be pooping gold, too?”

  Man, I loved this cookie. “Be sure to check it out, buddy.”

  Amber strode in as she pulled her hair back in a ponytail. “Bass?” she asked us, knowing the answer to it already. “No wonder I could hear some moaning from her room. Bet they’re having some phone or video sex. He’s only in New York for five days and those two are having some serious withdrawals.”

  “You bet your sweet ass, I am.” Emma strolled in, flushed and satisfied. “I love this side of Bass. The man sure knows how to make me weak in the knees.”

  Bass was awesome, but he had so much to make-up for. Knowing that Nikki’s wrath was nearing, I was glad that he was acting like the old Bass we all swooned over. With or without Nikki, it was obvious how much he loved our dollface.

  Seeing how much Emma’s face radiated, I was comforted to know that she was fighting for the right man.

  ~L~

  One time, when Dad was away on business, I saw my mom have sex with one of my father’s best friends, Brandon. It was late at night and I hadn’t seen my mom for a few days. I had waited until she came home, fighting sleep, so I could cuddle with her. When I heard the front door slam, I had known without a doubt that she was home.

  My excitement immediately evaporated when I found her with her dress pushed up and Uncle Brandon on his knees on the sofa, pushing into her as she screamed to do it harder. I was about seven or eight and I hadn’t had a clue about what they were doing. At one point, I thought he was hurting her, but when Mom said that he was so good, I knew that he wasn’t. Whatever it was they were doing, Mom was busy. Deflated, I moved to leave, but Uncle Brandon saw me.

  He didn’t look unperturbed, not at all. In fact, he kept on going, holding my gaze. My mom was thrashing then so I doubt she knew that Uncle Brandon wasn’t even looking at her. He didn’t waver until he started to move really fast, making me catch my breath as he made my mother scream so loud it echoed all over our twelve-bedroom home. I didn’t know what it was, but something told me that what Mom was doing was wrong. So, I kept my mouth shut, not mentioning anything to Carter or to my father.

  The next day, right around four in the afternoon, Mom informed me that Uncle Brandon was taking me to see a circus along with his niece, Jane, who I met a few times during birthday parties. Excited, I was rummaging through my closet to choose the best dress I had. You see, outings were scarce because my parents were nonexistent and the only time I got to go out was when Aunt Alice and Un
cle Gary would invite me.

  Years back, it used to be Carter and me, but he grew out of it and started to hang out with boys only, so I was mostly alone with my nanny around. I was only allowed to go to school then straight home. From time to time, I was allowed to sleep over at my friend’s house, but apart from those, I was very lonely.

  I was worried about Uncle Brandon getting mad at me after what happened last night, but when I saw Jane and how he acted like it didn’t happen, I was beyond relieved. I’d never been to a circus, so this was an exciting treat for me.

  A couple hours later, we dropped off Jane first since her house was on the other side of the city. I was still thinking about all the acrobatic stunts when Uncle Brandon said something about what I had witnessed the night before.

  “Sweetie, do you know what you saw last night?” he gently asked, eyes on the road.

  What did I see last night? “I thought you were hurting Mom, but she told you to keep going.”

  He sighed then, pulling over on the private road before he found a tree to park next to. “I’ll try to explain this to you, but you have to promise me, Lindsey, that you won’t tell your father.”

  All the more curious now because I knew even then that when adults tell you not to say something or repeat anything, that meant it was top secret and shouldn’t be spoken about. “I promise, Uncle Brandon. Dad and I don’t talk much, anyway.”

  “I’m sorry about that, sweetie. Your dad loves your mom very much, but your mom has things like a lot of women, needs. Sometimes, when you need something, you start looking for it, right?” he tried to explain it to me, trying to break it down.

  “Yeah.” I nodded, frowning. “So, Mom needed something from you?”

  He cleared his throat, thinking. “She did. I didn’t give it to her before, but your mother is a very determined woman. When a beautiful woman does everything in her power to get something, most of them succeed.”

  I knew Mommy was very pretty. Dad told her every day. “So, what did Mommy want that you didn’t want to give to her before?”

  He muttered something, before looking at me. “Tickles.”

  She wanted tickles? That was the top secret? “I don’t understand.”

  “Your mommy wanted special tickles that a man like me—like your dad—can give her,” he said, matter of factly.

  I still didn’t understand. “Oh. Why is it so special? I’ve never heard of it before.”

  “Because only adults can share special tickles. When you grow up, you’re going to be a very beautiful woman, just like your mom. You’ll understand one day how beauty can be used to gain a lot of things.”

  “You really think I’ll grow up beautiful like Mommy?” I gleefully asked, knowing how much I loved Mommy’s long, beautiful hair and how she looked so pretty all the time.

  “Of course, sweetie.” Uncle Brandon smiled at me then, meaning every word.

  His confirmation made me happy. “So when I’m old enough, you’ll show me the special tickles, Uncle Brandon?”

  He stilled, shocked at my question. “Err, I don’t think that would be a good idea.”

  “Why not?”

  Uncle Brandon shook his head, not believing me. “You won’t like it.”

  I didn’t believe him. “If Mom did, I’d like it, too.”

  He looked at me then, smiling. “You won’t. How about I’ll just tickle you instead, see if you like that?” he asked, his hand on my thigh.

  Curious, I nodded—agreeing to him.

  He lifted my skirt, asking me to slide my underwear off and sit back. When his finger touched my pee hole, it really tickled. It didn’t hurt. It felt funny as he touched me, watching my reaction. “Do you like it, sweetie?”

  I nodded. “Yes.”

  “When the time comes, Uncle Brandon will be waiting for you for that special tickle, okay?” He withdrew his hand before putting it in his mouth, tasting it. “You’re going to be even more beautiful than your mom, sweetie, and you taste way sweeter.”

  Chapter 18

  The following day, I was getting my pedicure, browsing through a fashion magazine, when my phone shrilled, alerting me that there was a message. I was reading about ways on how to fight depression as I distractedly checked it. Then, I wished I hadn’t because it was an article about Dimitris in Greek, but thanks to easy translation in webpages now, I could understand what was being written about him.

  Dimitris Kosta marrying French Socialite? Rumors are spreading fast when Claudine was seen coming out of one of the exclusive designer shops yesterday afternoon.

  They also attached photos of them coming out of the opera, smiling at the photographer. With a dry throat and a deadbeat heart, I enlarged the photo, zooming in on the both of them and then slowly sliding it to focus solely on Dimitris himself. He looked heart-wrenchingly gorgeous and utterly happy with Claudine.

  See? Almost a month after telling me that he loved me, he easily went back to his old self. Any guilt or remorse I had about leaving Athens was squashed then, absolving me from it.

  This was good. I wanted him happy. I truly did.

  Biting my bottom lip, I shakily went to the settings so that they would stop sending me alerts when his name was being mentioned online.

  When my mind drifted back to them, I mentally stopped myself. Get over it. He did, just as I asked him, just as I had pushed him to, just as I’d wanted him to. So stop dwelling and focus.

  I knew I had to think about Brody and me, about where we could go from here and how I could go past my erected barriers that were so much a part of me. I wanted to slowly let him in. Hell, Emma took a chance at Carter after they broke up. She did the same again with Bass after they broke up. Emma was stronger than me, though. She trusted her heart, even if it led her to countless heartaches.

  Could I do the same for Brody? I guess I could, right? If I loved him—because I truly did—then I should really get on it.

  Sighing with a heavy heart, I knew it was time.

  ~L~

  With a lot of help and some seriously major 911 sessions with Emma, she finally pushed me to do it after a week of changing my mind and being on the fence about letting some of my guard down.

  Emma convinced me that if Brody really loved me, he’d understand and would be there with me every step of the way, without forcing anything from me.

  So, ten minutes ago, I called him, asking if he could meet me here at home. He was apparently at a party, but decided to cut it short and meet me. I took that as a good sign because I’d want to be the first priority if he and I started dating.

  Brody left a gaping mark in my heart when he slept with Cece years back, but I was willing to overlook that, if we could agree on something.

  When I heard the chime of the doorbell, I jumped out of my bed, scrambling to get to the door. I took a big deep breath before yanking it open. “Hey!” I said, smiling.

  Brody had ripped jeans, slippers and a wife-beater on, blatantly displaying his ripped arms and tight torso.

  “Hey.” Brody seemed off, distant.

  I was somehow too caught up with prepping myself to date him that I hadn’t realized that we might not now be on the same page. I wasn’t sure if it was because I hadn’t really spent that much time with him, not like before or he met someone else. Which was it? I guess, I’ll find out soon enough.

  He followed behind me, towards my bedroom, not speaking at all, which was quite unusual for him. After I shut the door, I leaned against it; arms folded underneath my breasts, watching him go to the other side of the room and copying my stance.

  “You didn’t have to leave the party, Brody. I said we could do it anytime. I never said right now.” Why was he being a dick? I didn’t demand for him to come here pronto.

  “Well, I’m here now. What did you want to talk about?” Brody countered, still being a jackass.

  This was not how I pictured it to going down. I was thinking along the lines of a heavy make-out session, talking about us and what we�
�d do together, our future. Maybe he was drunk or had a bad day, and I really should shake it off and have this talk some other time because right now wasn’t it. “I actually don’t feel like talking anymore, Brody.”

  He was ticked off, growling. “You made me drive here and after two seconds, you tell me you don’t want to talk? Are you fucking with me, Lindsey?”

  “Well, how do you suppose I talk to you when you’re being a complete ass the second I greet you at the door?” I vented back, accusing.

  “Because you’re not playing fair. How do you expect me to be nice when you greet me at the door dressed like that?” He eyed my fitted, short cami and skimpy boy shorts. “All I can think about is fucking you. I’m going crazy here. So, I’m sorry if me being a jackass is the only way I know how to keep myself from pushing you against the bed and fucking you until I’m fucking through!”

  Okay, he really was drunk. “It never bothered you before.”

  “Why should it? You’d let me touch you whenever I could… but you haven’t let me even kiss you for the last month.”

  “I’ll go ahead and change then.” I pushed myself off the door and darted towards my walk in closet, but he ended up following me there anyway.

  Before I could even get my robe off the rack, he pulled me close and hugged me from behind. “I’m sorry, pookie, for being such a jerk just now.”

  I nodded before spinning around in his arms, studying him. The face I loved all my life, dreamt of countless times. “Are you in love with me?”

  My question didn’t even throw him off. “I’ve been in love with you… even way before you told me that you did, but you were my best friend’s baby sister so out of respect and love for the both of you, I stayed away and kept it to myself.” He held me tighter, almost crushing my breasts against his chest. “But you always did things to rouse me up. Even though I tried to ignore you, it’s you who I thought about before I went to sleep. It’s you who I wished safe every day, so no harm can come to you. It’s true…” Those dark depths searched my reflected own. “Loving you is the only thing that’s keeping me from doing something stupid tonight—after that night we spent together, I’ve been loyal to you, to my heart and body. All my life, I’ve been in love with you, Lindsey Mason.”