Blasphemous (Torn #3)(37)
I looked at him like he was talking like a mad man. “How could you willingly throw everything away?”
His jaw locked, gritting his teeth before he gave me a wrathful stare. “You did it quite easily, Emma. I suppose I could do the same, as well. Besides, I don’t want to be with a woman who’s in love with two men.” Those piercing depths held a knife in my heart, slowly pushing it in, twisting it inside, bleeding me alive. “I want to be the only one. I want a woman who only craves me and no other man. I need a woman who can make me happy without me doubting her commitment. I’ve exhausted myself believing in you, Emma.”
“But—”
Bass cut me off, harsh, decisive and unwavering. “There’s nothing to go back to. We have to start moving on, you should know that.”
Damn it! Why did I come out here? I was beyond repair—ego and confidence. I just had to accept that Bass didn’t want to be with me any longer. Why was that so hard to accept? f*uk! We were done and that’s that. I shouldn’t keep begging.
I was becoming past pathetic while I stood, bewildered and frantic, with my mouth hanging ajar. I wanted to argue, I wanted him to want me back again, but I was out of argument. Why should I keep pushing myself on him when he’d been telling me to back the hell off?
It is time to go, Emma, I told myself. Let it go. Let him go.
It was time.
Nodding as if in agreement with my thoughts, I spoke quietly, “You’re right, I should move on, go ahead and jump in Carter’s bed. Thank you! Maybe I should just take your advice and see him now.” At least, I could just jump on Carter’s bed, sleep there and not feel so alone.
Unwanted.
Undesirable.
I was about to spin around and leave, but his stoic stance broke and I was rooted on the spot as I watched him drastically throw the wine bottle on the floor, breaking it and splattering the contents all over the floor. Red liquid and shards of green glass were scattered close to him in his barefoot state, but he was past caring as he undauntedly strode towards me with wild, feral eyes. “You come in my home, try to seduce me and—the second I decline you—you decide to insult me? HOW f*ukING DARE YOU SPEAK ABOUT f*ukING HIM IN FRONT OF ME! Don’t you have any care or respect for me at all?”
If I was sane, I would have tried to comfort him and apologize.
But. I. Was. Not. That. Person.
A person shouldn’t trust a drunk, broken-hearted woman because they were bitter, angry, and tactless beings. “That’s what you wanted, right? Then I’ll go ahead and let him f*uk me until I’m out of it. Bye.”
I was leaving this f*uking place, I thought as I started to walk towards the foyer with newfound determination.
“Emma!” he yelled as he tried to grab my arm before pushing me against the wall next to the silent waterfalls. “You’re drunk. I’ll take you to a hotel and you can rest there.”
Yeah, f*uk you.
“I’m fine. I can drive. I’m really sorry to interrupt your night.” My eyes searched his as I tried to compose myself. “This won’t happen again. I was just having a rough night and I just missed you so f*uking much, I’m going nuts, but I understand now. It’s really over.” I gave him another look, readying for a quick departure and I was almost out the door when he howled so loud it echoed for a good minute, making my ears ring.
“What the hell did you expect then, a thank you?” he yelled at the top of his lungs, breaking my stride. “You broke my f*uking heart!” He was ferocious and disgustingly tenacious towards me. “You broke it twice,” he added in a mere whisper.
No. I’ve seen him like this in Greece and I wasn’t going to fight back. It wasn’t wise. I’d better leave before he pushed me to spar with him. With a shaky hand, I grabbed the door handle and opened it, but I was shocked when the door slammed back shut and I was thrown into a corner.
Bass was now livid.
And so was I.
An animalistic sound came from me as he gripped me tighter before he unexpectedly crushed his lips against my own. His sudden action confused me for a second; a part of me wanted to pull away, just to make a point, but a big part of me was rejoicing that he was kissing me again.
After weeks of withdrawal, I was injected with my euphoric drug. Hell, it felt beautiful, sweet and agonizingly sad. This kiss felt like it was our last meal. Like we knew we were going on a long-winded journey without each other. I wanted to ingrain it in my memory. Imprint each beautiful touch in my heart. I was never going to love another man the way I loved Bass. This man was my greatest love of all. I may be young, but I knew it was true. Each cell, each fiber, each drop in me told me the truth.
He was it. He was the one.
I was too consumed with my thoughts and holding onto his hard body against mine before I felt a sudden shift in him. He was the first one to break our kiss, placing his forehead against mine, lips parted, breathing heavily. “You f*uking drive me crazy, Emma. I hate it! I hate feeling like this. I hate feeling uncontrollable. I hate everything about it. I hate it all.”
Meaning, I hate you. Simple.
After going through this fog of heartbreak, I never stopped to think once that he would hate me. I never saw that coming. It hurts, dammit. I was disgusted at my attempts of getting him back. I’d turned into a woman I barely knew anymore. My actions were sad, desperate, and downright pathetic.