The Irresistible Bundle (124 page)

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Authors: Senayda Pierre

BOOK: The Irresistible Bundle
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"Aren't you coming with us?" Andrea asks as Griffin buckles me in. Am I that far gone that I didn't even notice that he sat me in the car and pulled the seat belt strap on?

"Not today" his voice sounds a little sad. I finally take a moment to look in his eyes. He looks like shit. He has dark circles under his eyes like he hadn't slept last night. My sluggish mind takes a few moments to realize that he wasn't there with us last night. As a matter of fact no one bothered to call him. At least not during the few hours we were there.

"Have you seen her yet?" I ask. Andrea looks away and I know it might not be a fair question to ask in front of her. I got a brief glimpse late last night and it was nightmare worthy. If I hadn't been in a self-induced alcoholic coma I'm sure I would've looked worse than Griffin currently did with the nightmarish memories skirting my consciousness.

Griffin abruptly pulls away closing the door. He taps the top of the car as he steps away. His non-answer says it all but it makes no sense. Griffin's known Carina longer than most of us. Why wouldn't he come?

The car whisks us away leaving my questions and doubts drifting in the wind. Andrea eyes have a million questions but she doesn't dare voice a single one. Good, because I don't feel like talking. I need to see her but I'm also dreading it. I can't handle having another waltz down memory lane. Piper deserves to rest in peace. The good memories are tainted with her last moments. I'm always haunted with the possibilities. Shards of glass settle in my throat. Hot coal settles between my ribs. Everything fucking hurts.

"We're here" Andrea's warbled voice makes me blink hard. Emotions are dirty bastards. They yank you from one extreme to the other and don't give a flying fuck that you're suffering from whiplash and motion sickness.

"Okay" I don't think she actually hears the words but seeing me respond is enough. The car door opens and we step out. I take a deep breath ready to face my best friend's battered body and unresponsive state. If I was the praying kind I'd be saying a prayer right now.

FUCKED IT ALL UP

~ DESIRAE ~

Once the memory of Piper resurfaces all hell breaks loose. The floodgates to my nightmares break open slaughtering any good memories and leaving every bit of sanity behind. Carina and I compete nightly to see who can silently scream the loudest. Andrea and Sati suspect we aren't sleeping well. Shit, the proof is in the dark circles under our eyes and our foul moods. Carina knows I'm having nightmares but she suspects it has to do with her attack. Thank fuck she's too busy trying to convince everyone else that she's okay. Then she can't harass me about anything.

But life, fate, destiny, whatever the fuck you want to call it has a way of fucking me up the ass. I'd accepted that the nightmares were back in full force. They were my constant companions for so many years. It's why I don't do sleepovers with anyone, guys or girls. They don't need to experience the fucked up shit that surfaces in the dead of night. Those monsters belong to me and me only.

Seeing Carina getting out again trying to regain control of her life gives me a mixed sense of pride and trepidation. Too fast and she'll fall apart. Too slow and life will pass her by while she hides amongst the shadows. But Carina's tough. She embraces her nightmares, accepts them like I do and moves on. She goes to class, eats at the student union, and comes back to the apartment. She doesn't wallow in a pit of misery and hatred.

Too bad I can't emulate my best friend. Instead I go from one bad decision to the next.

~

Knowing Chelsea's outside of Club 69 sparks an insidious flame within me. She has no business stepping one foot onto Valentino's property. She's no longer invited to any of the events. She's been kicked out of our little clique. Why the hell would she even bother flashing her fake tits and plastic smile at us?

Disgust morphs into something even uglier as Jaxon spews the list of her offenses. He pours gasoline onto that flame within me; then
boom
I'm fucking lit. If the color red is a physical manifestation; something that I could touch, taste, and feel, then I'm in sensory overload. I can't breathe through the horrific bundle of rage with hatred emanating from my every pore. My colorful world changes to shades of fucked-up red.

Chelsea, the stupid bleach-blonde bitch...

Fucking cunt...

Nasty skank...

I steamroll towards her with every intention of getting my hands dirty. Mercy is for those who deserve it. Second chances are for those who are sorry for what they've done. Chelsea is neither of these things.

A sharp pain shoots through my arm as my fist connects with Chelsea's jaw. The jolt of pain pales in comparison to the euphoric rush at the crunching sound. One point for me but Chelsea still has too many on her side. She crumples to the ground but if the ignorant cunt thinks I'm through with her she's dead fucking wrong. My legs straddle her flailing body as my elbow connects with her face.

Another point for me... Let that one count for whatever happened in
Scandalous
that caused her and Melissa to get fired. I need to ask Jaxon to repeat the story to me when I can focus. I think he elaborated but my mind went to shit somewhere along the way.

Hot tears blur my vision but it doesn't stop me from clawing her Barbie-doll face. Chelsea's the kind of rancid bitch that makes it her life's mission to belittle and humiliate people. She enjoys watching the train wreck as it happens. She basks in the carnage and revels in their despair.

Chelsea's screams do nothing to slow me down. My fists connect with her ribcage, face, and stomach. She needs to know what it feels like to be attacked physically and emotionally. I'm on auto pilot; nothing hurts me. She needs to taste fear and drown in it. It's about time she fucking walks in someone else's shoes. She egged Pete on to attack Carina. Well, I hope the bitch likes the fucking taste of her own medicine.

Strong hands grab onto my arms. Sirens blare. Panic sets in.
Don't touch me. Don't fucking touch me like that.
No one's allowed to hold me down; not anymore.

"Stop" it's
his
voice; the voice that haunts me day and night. The voice that once pined for me but now loathes me.

"That fucking cunt" I scream to anyone that'll listen. "Let me go! It isn't enough. The bitch deserves worse."

"I agree" he hoarsely whispers. God I've missed him.

My knees buckle as Marco barks at Diego to take me away. How can he be so calm about this? Why the hell would Marco and Jaxon keep this shit a secret? I'm not the only one seething with rage. Diego can't hide his emotions for shit. At least I had the titties to act upon mine.

"Let's go" his breath caresses my skin. I want to melt into him; feel safe from the world again but I can't. Diego's already let me down once before and I refuse to give him another opportunity to do so. He's judged and condemned me; just like all the others. I don't need him.

The rush of adrenaline dissipates with each step. Slowly but surely my mind begins to softly chant,
shit, shit, shit.
Until it begins to scream
fuck, fuck, fuck.
I've royally fucked up. Chelsea is a spiteful, hateful bitch. I've lost count of the number of times her stupid-ass has made comments about the appearance of my family's wealth. Once she regains consciousness the cunt will be seeing dollar signs.

Father...

That's the only word needed to bring this entire fucked-up situation to a standstill.
When
, not
if
, Chelsea presses charges
he
will be summoned. When I get arrested
he
will get involved. Everything inside of me hollows as the bitter realization sets in. I just fucked up my entire world in less than two minutes.

LINES DRAWN

~ DIEGO ~

They say grief and guilt often go hand-in-hand. Desirae seems to be going through it after she assaulted Chelsea. Or at least I think those are the expressions marring her beautiful face. The myriad of emotions are damn near impossible to follow while trying to focus on something else as she falls apart in front of me.

Fury.

Grief.

Despair.

Frustration.

Those are the only emotions I'm able to decipher before she shuts down right before my eyes. I've seen her employ the tactic on occasion but fuck, this is some scary shit.

After Carina's attack I found myself drowning in guilt and grief. Guilt for not getting there sooner; for allowing my feelings for Desirae to distract me from taking care of my sister; for neglecting to notice the red flags around us. I wallowed in grief for so long that I neglected to see everyone else around me falling apart. Luckily they all had someone to lean on.

I turned to the one person I could count on for anything, my father. To say he'd been furious and devastated was just the tip of the iceberg. Shit got real when I finally confessed everything that had been happening. But it also helped to relieve some of the burden I carried. My father's praise for how I handled the situation still resonates with me, especially during my darkest hours.

"You need to take a shower" my voice causes Desirae to flinch. That fucking hurts. I know it's partly, okay maybe mostly my fault for our distance, but she has to understand why I'd done it. Family comes first. Carina comes first.

"Not interested" she sneers, "Go find some other stupid bitch to take care of you."

I close my eyes counting to ten. The rational part of me understands that she's scared and retaliating. The irrational part of me wants to be nasty right back and hurt her as much as she seems to so easily wound me.

"You need to get any and all evidence off you" I slowly yet calmly enunciate.

"What's the fucking point" she snorts. "There are 100 eye-witnesses and Chelsea sure as hell ain't lying down and taking it."

"Maybe" I concede, "But the point is you've got her blood all over you. Aren't you the one always saying she's got some kind of STD?"

Desirae's eyes momentarily spark with something: humor, disgust, realization. Regardless she storms toward Griffin's bathroom immediately flinging her bloody top off.

"My bathroom's this way" I point toward my room. Why the hell is she going to Griffin's?

"That's nice" she bitterly replies. Right. She doesn't want to have anything to do with me. It should make things easier, less awkward, but it hurts like hell. I've drawn the line and stepped back. Desirae isn't like a lot of other girls. She only has to be shunned once and she's done. She isn't a beggar. She doesn't need to be. Guys flock to her a dime a dozen.

She slams the bathroom door denying me anymore of a glimpse of her curvy, freckled body. God, how have I so royally fucked this up? Time loses meaning as I stare at the closed bathroom door. For a few moments I think I hear her voice talking, pleading, and crying. I approach the bathroom door and knock but she screams for me to go away.

I should just storm away and say fuck it. Desirae is so damn complicated; she has so many fucking layers to unravel before getting to her inner core. And I'm nowhere fucking close to the center. Instead I lean my forehead against the bathroom door listening to the sound of the water hitting the walls, floor, and flowing down the drain. A single door separates me from her but it feels like the length of the fucking Wall of China.

"I need to get in there" Valentino softly nudges me. I jolt shocked to see him standing in front of me. I blink hard not realizing I'd remained in the same position for I don't know how long.

"What are you doing here?" I stupidly ask. Shouldn't he be with Carina?

"Because she needs me" he quietly replies. My eyes flare. I know he sees it. But Valentino is chivalrous enough to pretend not to notice. Indignation and envy steamroll my chest. She fucking called him in her time of need.

"What about Carina" It's shit like this that got my sister injured in the first place. Everyone assumed she was okay and she'd been left alone, vulnerable to that viscous attack from Pete-the-fucking-coward.

"She's with Marco" he calmly replies. Valentino doesn't wait for anymore rebuttals. He blocks me from following him into the bathroom. Then he locks the fucking door.

What. The. Fuck.

I stare at the door dumbstruck and numb. She called Valentino. She wanted anyone else but me with her. That fucking hurts worse than being beaten with every implement in the dungeons, all at the same time. My chest radiates with pain while the rest of me slowly shuts down.

Valentino's inside the bathroom with a naked and vulnerable Desirae. I don't exactly like the feelings roiling in my gut and chest. I've always respected and admired Valentino but right now I feel nothing but distrust and jealousy emanating from me, making it a bad combination. But who am I kidding? I hate this as much as I hate myself.

A few weeks ago I'd drawn the lines, excluding Desirae. Now she's doing the same to me. Being on this side fucking sucks...

SOMEONE'S SAVIOR

~ DESIRAE ~

The bathroom door opens causing my body to instantly tense. If Diego has the balls to walk in here despite me screaming at him I intend to fucking castrate him with my bare hands.

"It's me" Valentino's velvety voice rumbles over the shower. The water's getting cold but I don't really care. I haven't felt clean in years. No amount of soap and hot water can disinfect the filth that surrounds me.

"I don't want to talk" I snap. I flinch at the harshness in my voice but it can't be helped. I want, need him here but not to pour my heart out. I just need his presence; the comfort it brings me. Diego should be that for me but all he causes me is pain.

"You don't have to Firecracker" he affectionately replies. Hearing his pet name for me soothes an ache in my soul. My body shudders as he wraps his strong arms around me. I'm naked but this doesn't feel the least bit sexual. Valentino's strong arms ground me. They keep me sane when my mind screams a plethora of profanities and insanities.

He turns off the water slowly pulling me out of the shower. A warm towel caresses me as he slowly and meticulously dries my skin. My chest twists knowing he does this all the time for Carina. I don't want to envy my best friends but their love is so magnificent that it blinds those around it. I've never gotten to experience the kind of unconditional love that Valentino, Marco, and Carina have for one another.

"Do you want to stay here?"

My response is automatic, "No." I don't want to be under the same roof with Diego. I want to be away from everyone and everything when the cops come to arrest me.

"My place or the estate?" He asks although his tone conveys he knows where I prefer to go. The estate is the only place on this forsaken planet that makes me feel safe, whole, and un-judged. No one touches me there. I rule the fucking place. Father can't breech those gates. I'd made sure of that the moment I felt comfortable enough to confide with Valentino and Nicholas about it. Certain people from my past are blacklisted from
Hedonism
.

"The estate" I numbly reply. It's comforting feeling this empty. The panic hasn't set in, yet. The terror isn't suffocating me, yet. But it will. Oh, yes it will.

Valentino carefully dresses me. I barely register when he taps my ankles to lift my feet to slip panties on. Where had he gotten me clean clothes from? I didn't notice when he'd put on my bra but my tits thank him for it. He slips a simple sundress overhead taking less than 60 seconds to dress me.

"Hold still" he rumbles. I close my eyes unsure of what else he needs to do before we leave this place. Strong fingers carefully untangle my hair before methodically braiding it. A groan reverberates in the back of my throat as the soothing rhythm lulls my tense body. Is this what love feels like? Is this the kind of thing a parent would've done for their child? Tears burn behind my eyelids. I can't deal with anymore emotions. I've barely simmered the volcanic rage. I don't want to break the dam of tears.

"Good to go" his lips whisper reverently against my temple before kissing me. My hand automatically goes to my throat as emotions clog my airway. I can't fucking breathe. Why is he trying to kill me with his tenderness? Doesn't he understand I don't deserve this?

"I've got you Des" his soft voice ruins me. "I won't let you fall" he persists. Am I shaking? Is that why he clings so tightly to me? Valentino squeezes me, as if he can smother the tremors quaking through my body.

A black curtain slowly surrounds me as Valentino's reassuring voice keeps insisting that he'll catch me. I sure as hell hope he means it since I get lost into an endless abyss after that.

~

Familiar silky sheets wrap around my restless body. I'm safe; I know this on some level but another part of me screams to completely wake up and run far, far, away. The hushed voices of Valentino and Nicholas help to pull me out of the suffocating darkness. It's too easy to remain within the shadows and run away from the light. I slowly open my eyes to the familiar suite within the estate; my home away from home.

"How did anyone from her family come this quickly?" Valentino's irritated voice instantly has me on edge. How long had I been out? Mother would never come and face something like this; too messy. Father, oh God if Father was here.

"He claims to be a family friend" Nicholas solemnly replies. I sense their wariness. No one knows much of anything about my family and I have every intention of keeping it that way. Whoever Father hired to watch over me must've already reported the altercation and now he's in full cleanup mode. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I don't care what needs to be done to get Chelsea's ass off me but I refuse to give into Father's demands. I will not leave school early. I will not do any
favors
while here. I'd rather be penniless and homeless.

"Who is it" my hoarse voice freezes both men. Good. They'd been so wrapped up in their conversation they failed to realize that I'd woken up. Shitty ninja stealth if you ask me.

"He claims he's a family friend and an attorney" Nicholas guardedly replies.

"No." It's not possible... I shoot up out of bed at the same time that all the blood rushes south. Valentino dives to catch me before I face-plant onto the lush carpet. My lungs refuse to expand, denying me any tidbit of oxygen. I'm having a panic attack; I know this but can't do a goddamn thing about it.

"Shit" Nicholas curses. "Hold the gates" he snaps into his handheld device, "Don't fucking let him in."

"Yes" Valentino replies as if I was speaking to him. "He drives a red BMW Roadster."

Did I say something out loud? My worst nightmare's come true. If he came this quickly... It means that he's been nearby all this time... My stomach churns acknowledging his proximity.

God. Kill. Me. Now.

"Ah Nic" Valentino's hesitant voice sounds like it's underwater for some reason. I can't really focus on him. My mouth instantly sours. "Think you need to get a bucket or something."

His words flip the switch. Everything I ingested in the last 12 hours explodes from my mouth. Valentino somehow manages to dodge the liquid mess but Nicholas isn't so fortunate. I feel bad. I need to apologize but the awful taste in my mouth keeps my jaw clamped shut. If I open my mouth even a fraction of a bit I'll spew the remaining contents from the depths of my roiling stomach.

"Breathe baby girl" Valentino's soothing voice calms my overactive stomach.

"Someone's coming to clean this up" Nicholas reassures us. "Wait just a second please." He walks away from my ocean of vomit calling over to the security gate through his handheld device.

"Did he say he was here specifically for Desirae?" Valentino and I both unabashedly listen in on the conversation. My body tenses as the guard on the other line confirms it. No one but immediate friends knows about the estate being our sanctuary. Hell, they can't get past the front gate without going through the arsenal of security and background checks.

"What did the gentlemen say his name was again?" Nicholas plays dumb but I know he's doing it for my benefit. His eyes lock on me as he asks the question waiting for all of us to hear the response.

"A Mr. David Pearce" the voice replies.

My body goes into automatic shutdown mode. Mr. Pearce is here. The only thing that separates us is a measly wrought iron gate and a few guards. That won't hold him. The dirty bastard has countless politicians, corrupt cops, and thugs in his pocket, at his disposal. As much as I love Carina, beating the shit out of Chelsea is not worth this punishment.

My hand covers my mouth trying to choke back the sobs. There'll be no invoice for his legal services rendered. There'll be no monetary charge for his representation. And the son-of-a-bitch will do the best damn job anyone's ever seen for this kind of case because he'll make damn sure that I owe him. Indentured servitude has nothing on Mr. Pearce.

"Do you know him?" Valentino softly asks. He carefully holds onto me as if I'll shatter into a thousand pieces. I snort making both men warily look between me and each other. Can't they see I'm already broken beyond repair? Isn't it obvious that the few fractured pieces I've barely hung onto are already falling off bit by bit?

"He's Father's lawyer" I flatly respond. Yeah, I don't miss their wince at the dead inflection to my voice but what do I fucking care? Know why? Cause I'm a barely functioning dead girl.

Woo-hoo, yeah you... Take a good look at me. It won't take long for Mr. Pearce to rid me of any sparkle in my eyes, smile on my lips, or color to my freckled skin. Look carefully because soon enough this creamy complexion will be peppered with bruises, rope burns, and burn marks.... And not the pretty kind. Like when a man who loves you marks you, possesses you, and fills you with his passion and love. That doesn't exist in my world. Mr. Pearce leaves the kinds of marks that permanently scars. He brands those he owns like a rancher and his cattle.

"Nicholas and I already have our attorneys on this" Valentino pauses as I flinch at his touch. As much as I want to be relieved at this possibility it will be null and void. Father wouldn't summon Mr. Pearce unnecessarily. How can their attorneys outdo Mr. Pearce?

"Do not permit him entry" Nicholas barks into the headpiece. "He can meet us at the station. Let the police know that we're bringing in Ms. Philippe voluntarily."

I roughly wipe away the snot and tears leaking all over my face. I hate feeling weak. I hate being at the mercy of others. But Chelsea has me by the titties and it looks like Mr. Pearce is going to be the key.

"I told you I won't let you fall and I mean it" Valentino urgently whispers. He ushers me into the shower washing away the vomit while the cleaning crew sanitizes my mess. From the way Valentino struggles I imagine it isn't easy dressing a limp noodle but it's the best I can do.

"Most people's monsters aren't real" I mumble. Valentino and Nicholas wrap their arms around me as they escort me out of the estate. "But mine are real and one drives a red BMW Roadster."

They both tense at my words. I hadn't meant for them to slip out but they did... Too late now... Valentino valiantly tries to be my savior but he has no idea the hell I'm about to walk right into. It's time to face my monster; hopefully only one at a time.

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