Scorned (13 page)

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Authors: Pamela Ann

BOOK: Scorned
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A few hours later, one champagne case down and several to go, we were exchanging stories—some good, but mostly embarrassing ones—when things shifted.

Trista was telling a story about Taylor and his “no bullshit” way of dealing with things when we heard Emma gasp loudly—the last breath, dying sort.

Of course, we were a curious rat pack, so we checked what had made her do that. The Russian, in all her magnificence, was gliding about, wearing a flowy dress that showed off her
ass
ets. From where I’m standing, she didn’t look with child, but then again, given her work-out routine and her diet, she probably wouldn’t show until later.

“Dude, why the hell did you invite her here?” Taylor chided his best friend, disappointed.

“I fucking didn’t, but now that she’s here, I can’t boot her out. That’s going to cause a scene and that’s the last thing I need right now!” Bass raked a hand over his hair, feeling helpless. “Em, I didn’t invite her, okay?”

Emma gave him a brave smile before whispering, “I know.” She stood up, gathering him with her. “Come on; let’s greet our new visitor to our home.”

We watched as they welcomed Nikki while Brody gathered me close, kissing my nape. “I love you,” he whispered against my skin, making it tingle.

“Well, I’m proud of our girl. The old Emma would’ve probably sat back, fumed and got her ass drunk. Guess, she really is fighting for her man. Do or die,” Amber said out loud, toasting.

Bass looked like a shaken up, corked champagne bottle, ready to pop. Emma looked pleasant, trying not
too
hard, she was more civilized in appearance. Nikki, on the other hand, simply looked like an evil bitch; smiling in the most fake manner while eyeing Bass like he was going to be her meal tonight.

“Russian bitch is going to get it,” I gritted out, feeling what about how Bass must have been feeling.

Trista interrupted, “Hell, I’ll take her first.”

“Hell, no! I knock her first then you can take over,” Amber added. It was no wonder that we all were not happy campers, we hated having to sit back and watch our friends get played by some woman who had the seriously MAJOR issue of not letting Bass go.

“Calm down, will you, little rugrats?” Taylor warned us, acting like a good referee. “In case any of you lady rascals forgot, the woman in question is pregnant. So ease up with the catfights, please.”

“Really, babe? So not the time to be such a good guy, okay?” Trista was heated. I suppose, you can call Emma “our baby” because she was the kindest one amongst us and the youngest, too.

The three of us waited like good, little angels until Nikki had to go to the bathroom. After all, a pregnant woman had a bad bladder, right?

When we followed inside the bathroom, there was a woman checking herself out at the mirror before Trista tapped her on the shoulder. “Miss, our friend is having the runs. Unless you want to stay for the stink bomb, you better run outside.”

“Ew, gross bitch!” the woman disgustedly threw at her before she spun around and left.

I was sitting on one of the chaise lounges, waiting for the sound of the flushing toilet while Trista was leaning against the secured door and Amber was leaning against the sink, tapping her fingers on the granite top.

At the sound of the flush being released, it took Nikki another couple of minutes to come out. She was fixing her skirt as she walked towards the wash area when she noticed us.

Nikki paused, flicking back and forth before she started laughing like she was being tickled. “Awww, I have a welcome party? Thanks, I feel so special, you guys.”

Bitch was unreal. “Cut the moronic lines, Nikki,” I barked at her before I got up and looked down on her. “Get the stupid DNA test before this turns into an ugly mess. If you love Bass, at all, you won’t risk this kind of heartache for him.”

“I’m risking for the both of us. We were happy, but Emma seduced him. He’ll tire of her, I just know it,” Nikki hissed out, looking at us like we were filthy. “The three of you, little gold-diggers and Emma’s hangers-on for a little fame and money, need to fucking disappear.” When we didn’t move, she threw a hissy fit. “Do you want me to have Bass throw you all out? He’d do that for me.”

Trista snorted. “Lady, I want to see you try. Bass will probably throw you out himself if it were possible, but then again, you did this on purpose. To show face that you’re still somewhat connected to him, so that when your bun in the oven starts showing, it’ll look like you and Bass still kept in touch, maybe even could be reconciling. That way, you’re protecting your image, keeping the delusion that you and Bass are still bueno. He doesn’t like you. I heard him tell his best friend the other night. So, consider this DNA testing just to get it over with.”

Nikki’s big, brown eyes and beautiful face were completely unyielding, mind set already on Bass. She wasn’t going to give him up. I could see that now.

“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 Uncle Gary would invite me.

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