The Irresistible Bundle (123 page)

The smothering silence chokes me but I can't get up. My chest tightens knowing it's about to get worse. A man dressed similarly to Desirae motions onscreen Bambi to him. She picks up the man Desirae was working over away from them. I want to tell Bambi to turn it off. If she's upset with me and feels the need to show me this video... then, there's no happy ending here for either of us.

"Is that Greg" I quietly inquire as the couple onscreen has their clothes taken off methodically, callously. There's nothing erotic or romantic about Bambi's motions. My chest aches, splinters, but I still can't tear my gaze away.

"Yes" she whispers.

"Why are you helping them?" If she wants this man then why did she tie them up and attach things to their bodies? She could've refused.

Bambi doesn't answer. Instead we watch in heavy silence as they occasionally jolt and eventually fuck. I can't fucking breathe. Every bit of progress we've made is gone. Everything I thought we'd overcome, accomplished has been obliterated. Every reverent touch instantly banished. We remain frozen to our chairs even as we stare at a black screen.

I should feel a semblance of accomplishment and relief. I set out to distance myself from her and I managed to accomplish it. Shit, I've always been an overachiever but this, this played out to a tee and I fucking hate it.

Bambi quietly closes the laptop. She gathers our plates putting them back on the tray. "Why did you show me that?" I growl. I have no right to be upset with her but things would've been so much easier if I didn't know. Desirae being down there was bad enough already. Did I really need to see what happened after I left?

"Because you needed to see" Bambi stands by the door with her hand on the knob. She has no intention of letting me have the last word. I can see it on her face. She radiates sadness and frustration... because of me. Greg may not be interested in her in the way she wants but I also didn't help matters. And damn it all to hell if it's a bitter pill to swallow. Have I just pushed Des into his eager arms?

"She's got a spine of steel. I've seen the things she can do within that lower level. But until you came along I've never glimpsed even a morsel of vulnerability within her. You don't ever need to use an implement within the dungeons. You can shatter Desirae with a few careless words. You Diego. No one else. I always thought she was untouchable but you proved me wrong today." Bambi turns the knob opening the door just a few inches. There's compassion in her eyes, none of which I merit.

"I don't know what's happening in your life or hers" she softly continues. "But I do know that she needs you and she doesn't know how to express that. If you wait for her to get her shit together you'll probably wait an eternity. So the question then becomes what'll you do now that you know all this?" She smiles sadly at me before slipping out of the room.

I palm my chest trying to ease the overwhelming ache within my ribs. I can't just overlook the fact that Desirae just had sex with another dude and act like it doesn't matter because
fuck
it does. I know I'm being an ass right now. I want to be the one to comfort her. I want to be the one she comes to but I don't have it in me right now to be who she needs and wants. Carina's got all of me.

Bambi's words haunt me more than the security footage from the dungeons do. How fucked up is that? I actually would've been surprised if she
hadn't
reverted to one of her more infamous coping methods. I've never met anyone else who carries an equal amount of flavored condoms to latex condoms. Not male or female. But that's Des for you. Oral sex is her power play. She rules the domain of oral manipulation. Dominating men is a close second. Alcohol is probably her third. So why the hell choose sex this time?

My mind freeze-frames their image: their wrists bound together, attached at the hip, fucking like animals. She did this sober, consensually, and emotionally; there's the winner folks. Giving a guy head can be a completely robotic and emotionless act. Desirae went in the complete opposite direction this time proving that to herself and me. She had sex with this guy in retaliation of what happened between us. Point well made Freckles. Damn that's a nasty lesson.

COPING MECHANISMS

~ DESIRAE ~

No one speaks as one of the staff members from the estate drives us back to the campus apartment. I don't really want to go back. There's going to be yellow tape everywhere screaming its reminders of what happened just a few yards away. I can't guarantee refraining myself from gossiping bitches and gawking assholes.

"Let me out here" my garbled voice makes the girls' heads turn but the driver doesn't hear me.

"Let me out" I scream making him slam on his brakes. Andrea turns to me with questions in her eyes but I can't let her watch me fall apart. No one needs to see this shit. It'll get ugly before I can regain any real control.

"I'm coming with you" Andrea insists, bless her heart. She's trying to be brave. I'm barely hanging onto my frayed edges and she wants to tag along for the fucked up roller coaster ride. Not happening sweetheart. No one needs to see batshit crazy up close and personal.

"No you're not" I snarl. It's a cunt move but she needs to know I'm not playing. No one needs to be with me right now.

Andrea flinches at my tone. I want to feel bad but I can't. The chasm in my chest is sucking up everything good and bad within its reach. I'm so fucking hollow right now and I intend to keep it that way. "Someone should be with you" her eyes brim with tears making me look away.

"Promise I won't be alone" I sneer making sure she understands what I'm saying.

"What about Diego" she gapes in disbelief. What the fuck did she think? He just tossed me to the side like some piece of garbage.

"Fuck Diego" I bark. Now I've got everyone in the car fucking gawking. I can't stay. It'll get a whole lot uglier in a matter of seconds. Without waiting for their two cents I slam the door shut daring any of them to open it and follow me. I'll sever friendships right now if they've got the titties to stalk me for the night.

The window rolls down as the car slowly pulls away. "Be safe Des" Andrea calls out. She's trying to pull at emotional strings that don't exist. Mine are barbed wires with electric current intermittently running through them. Touch me at the wrong time and I'll shock the shit out of you.

My phone buzzes with a text message. I know she's not done.
I'm here if you need me.
My fingers itch to type back 'that's nice' but I'm not far enough gone to be that much of an asshole. Instead I tuck my phone back into my jeans. I'm not dressed to go out clubbing but it'll have to do. I need to get lost in alcohol and a warm body.

My legs do all the thinking for me. I walk following the trail of pumping music until I find an unfamiliar club. I don't want to go anywhere that belongs to the guys and I'm liable to smack someone who recognizes me asking me stupid shit. The club name isn't important and the whiny bitches mean mugging me need to step back. Tonight is not the night to say shit to me. I'm ready to forget everything.

~

Hours pass. I've lost count of the number of shots I've downed. The alcohol warms me from the inside-out. I'm feeling nothing but buzzed. Most bitches would be out for the count but I'm not anyone's average bitch. I've been shaped and molded to certain men's specifications. My body's trained. My mind's mastered. What Father and the others did to me taught me plenty. One of those lessons being how to handle my liquor; I can drink with the best of them and keep it down. Take that you weak bitches!

The dance floor beckons all night. The only times I pull away are when I need another drink or if my bladder starts screaming for attention. The tight press of sweaty bodies are like a balm. Soon enough the nightmarish images disappear beneath the comfort of liquor and waves of lust surrounding me. Music pulses. Bodies gyrate. All I need to do is find someone to go home with because I sure as hell am not going back to the apartment. I can't look at the nearby grounds with campus security still hovering around and nosy students loitering the grounds.

"I bet you taste good" an unfamiliar voice rasps against my ear. I think he's trying to sound sexy but the blaring music doesn't help his cause. He's been shamelessly grinding against me for the last hour with a major hard-on pressed against my back. Other guys have tried to butt in but he's laid his claim for the night and quite frankly I don't give a shit. He's interested and I'm easy tonight.

I twist my body finally getting a good look at him. It'll take a lot for me to deny him but it's been known to happen. Luckily for him he's confident but not arrogant. Otherwise I would've told him to fuck off a long time ago. Brown eyes greet mine reminding me of someone else. I quickly squash the thought hating that Diego would even intrude on this moment.

"Let's get out of here" his hands squeeze my hips but he's not looking as confident as 30 seconds ago. I know it's my fault. My expressionless face isn't giving him any helpful indication. I could be soaking wet right now or bone dry, unless he sticks his hands in my panties he won't know.

My small smile is enough for him. He tugs my hand pulling me off the dance floor. Common sense dictates that I should text Carina, scratch that, Andrea. Carina's out of commission. Piper's gone. And I'm beyond fucked up. Diego finally sees it and is getting the hell out of dodge. Good for him. At least he won't end up like me, like Piper. He still has a chance of being whole. His world will right itself once again, as soon as Carina wakes up.

Old habits are hard to kick. Familiar coping mechanisms, no matter how harmful or helpful are the easiest to fall back into. When the world goes to shit you grab your safety net and cling to it like a fucking life raft. Alcohol and sex are commonly used coping methods for countless people. Why would I be any different? Sex isn't comforting to me. Sex reminds me that I'm now in control. No one can take anything from me unless I give it to them.

But my coping methods include shutting down. I'm still there, somewhat present, but I disappear into myself. Black outs help me deal with the shit my mind knows I shouldn't remember. I wouldn't have gone with him if I'd realized that was exactly how my night would end.

~

Either I have a herd of elephants stampeding through my skull or I have the hangover from hell. The constant pounding of my head leaves me immobile. Someone's softly snoring beside me making my entire body tense. What the fuck did I do last night? I squeeze my eyes tightly refusing to let in even the tiniest sliver of light to sneak through my eyelids. Okay maybe I can hold my liquor but if I don't drink water throughout the night I'm not immune to hangovers from hell. And this one is the bastard of them all. My stomach threatens to revolt only because the searing pain in my head is making me nauseous.

Brown eyes, nameless face. That's all I remember about last night but if the all too familiar aftertaste of latex is any indication the lucky fucker next to me at least got a blowjob. Glad that one of us was responsible enough to ensure he wrapped it up first.

It takes every bit of self-reprimanding and bitching to get my eyelids to flutter open. Fuck! What the fuck is wrong with this dude? Doesn't he own blinds or something? His room is so fucking bright. It hurts too damn much to open my eyes. I peek, kind of recognizing the guy from last night. I can't guarantee the same thing if we run into each other on the street after a week or so. He's completely naked while I still have on my top, bra, and panties. Well then...

I flex my kegel muscles trying to see if I'm sore or anything. I don't remember him fucking me or having a big dick but I also don't remember sucking him but my mouth says otherwise. Everything south of the border feels the same. I crawl out of bed trying to be quiet and shit but it doesn't take long to realize that he sleeps like a fucking rock.

Still, I hate awkward morning-after situations. I shuffle into the bathroom picking up my jeans on the way. It doesn't take long for my little self-assessment to realize that I'd gotten the short end of the stick last night. No literally, I don't remember shit but according to my pussy and panties the greedy bastard didn't do much else but make sure he got his own. Fucker.

I grab my stuff checking to ensure I have my phone, debit card and ID. I'm almost out of his room when I spot his phone. Since Carina's drama I no longer trust people and their cell phones. Brown-eyed dude is still fast asleep. I take a moment to sift through his cell phone pictures and videos making sure he didn't pull anything last night. Once I feel satisfied that he's passed the non-douchebag test I sneak out of his place.

The moment I step outside the sun kicks my fucking ass. Rays of sunshine karate chop my eyes making me stop right where I'm standing damn near curling into a ball. The piercing sound of my phone ringing is the last straw. I growl ready to hurl the fucking thing at the brick wall.

The Dean's name flashes across the screen. What the hell? Since when do I have Dean Richard's phone number stored in my phone? Well, that just pisses me the fuck off. The only asshats that would even try that shit for him would be Nicholas or Jaxon. Valentino would forever be the gentleman and ask first. Marco wouldn't even try it fearing the safety of his balls. Smart man... If it was Jaxon then the good looking fucker needs to learn the meaning of invading people's personal space.

The phone finally stops ringing. I take a moment to see if Valentino or the others have texted. The Dean is the only one who's reached out. My fingers itch to call him back. What if he has an update about Carina? Just as I'm ready to give in, the phone rings again. My entire body freezes as the Dean's name flashes across the screen again. He's called twice in a matter of minutes. It must mean something important. But what if he's calling with bad news? He could just leave it on voicemail. But no, the damn man is persistent. The phone barely stops ringing only to start up again.

"Yes" I growl. Okay, there's no covering up the fact that he's fucking irritated me.

"Good afternoon Desirae" the Dean's clipped voice makes me wince. "Is there a reason why you haven't been to any of your classes yet?"

I pull the phone away from my ear making sure I just heard the man right. Is he fucking serious? He actually expects me to go to class today!

"Yeah because I was drunk as fuck last night and I'm just getting out of bed" I can't restrain the maelstrom of surliness, even if I wanted to.

"Your roommates are concerned about you" his tone softens, but only by a fraction. I know I've pissed him off but he's trying to play good cop right now. Oh, don't break fragile Desirae. She's already treading in deep waters slowly sinking.

"Hoo-fucking-ray" I even twirl my fingers for effect but alas he can't appreciate my gesture.

"Head back to your apartment" the Dean barks into the phone. Yep, that tender moment gone in a blink. Poof! Pissed off man front-and-center, "A car's waiting to take you to the estate."

He doesn't wait for my consent. Silence echoes as I stare at the phone. High-handed men piss me the fuck off. The Dean does not want to get to know that side of me. I stomp, yes I STOMP, the entire way back. My feet fucking hurt but every person within a mile's radius of me steers clear. I don't give a shit if the fucking President of the United States is waiting on me. I'm taking a fucking shower and grabbing some food before I get into any vehicle.

"She's the slut that cheated on Jaxon. She deserved whatever happened to her" a voice nearby loudly declares. I don't know if she's saying it for my benefit or likes the attention she's garnering.

"I mean who would ever break up with Jaxon" the stupid cunt continues like everyone gives a shit about what she has to say.

"He did mess with that entire sorority" a timid voice replies.

"I heard the bitch is so easy she lets any guy stick it into whatever hole he wants. There are pictures out there of her doing all sorts of nasty shit. I wouldn't sleep with any guy she's ever been with. Bet she has hepatitis and all sorts of other shit."

The gathering crowd chuckles making the stupid cunt puff her chest out more. Apparently she needs to be knocked down a few pegs and I'm the right bitch to do it. I bowl over several people before the fucktards get smart and give me easy access to the bitch suffering from diarrhea of the mouth. My hand has a mind of its own. I have a fistful of her hair before my brain can even play catch up. Hair pulling is for pussies but apparently I'm playing dirty today. I pull my other arm back ready to shut this bitch up for a while. One good blow and she'll think twice before she starts talking shit about people. The moment her beady eyes lock onto me her snarl turns into panic. That's right cunt, the crazy bitch is here.

A hard body presses against my back. One hand grips my wrist while the other hand cups my fisted hand. Instincts kick in. I lean my head forward pretending to be cowed for just a moment. One good head butt backwards and I'll have this asshole's nose broken. Oh fucking well if it's campus security too. He's in the no-touchy zone.

"Des the bitch isn't worth it" Griffin's familiar voice whispers into my ear. My muscles loosen a fraction but still not enough for him to pry me off her. "Let's go" he softly urges. "We've got more important things to do."

The dumb bitch is finally smart enough to not say shit. She doesn't move a muscle while I slowly unfist her hair. Griffin glares at the crowd but doesn't say a word. He pulls me away softly whispering nonsensical reassurances in my ear. Diego's best friend came to find me. Does it mean he's worried about me? Or is Griffin being his good-guy self?

Griffin walks me to the waiting car. Andrea's already there waiting for me. She steps forward but he shakes his head instantly freezing her. I wish I could make it easier for her. She's a good friend. But I can't pretend that I'm okay when I'm so far from it. In less than 12 hours I've reverted to the shit I used to always do. I promised myself that those days were over but here I was fucking shit up. One-night stand: check; getting drunk as a skunk: check; trying to start a fight: check; almost getting suspended from school: semi-check. The Dean might tolerate my shit for a little while but I doubt it'll be for long.