Crushed (Torn #7)(54)

“He’s with someone, isn’t he?” I pressed, knowing full well what the answer to the question was and still feeling inclined to say it.

“You didn’t hear it from me.” He shrugged before he gave me an “I’m sorry” look.

I knew it, yet my heart couldn’t f*uking take it. The very idea of him doing the nasty in his bedroom made me want to puke. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to run out of there or go up to his room to confront him. Regardless, I knew it wasn’t my right to demand anything from him. I specifically made things clear between us. He was a free to do as he pleased.

And just when I thought things couldn’t get uglier, Joanna came downstairs, wearing his jersey, boldly emblazoned with his last name and number.

God, that hurt.

If I had thought I was hyperventilating before, I was about to have a heart attack just about now as I scrammed towards the door, seeing red everywhere.

“Leaving the party early?”

Dammit. How in the world did he manage to spot me amongst all these people? Probably because I resembled a bat-shit crazy woman out of hell.

Not daring to glance at him, I responded without pausing my steps. “Um, yeah. I have a headache.”

“I have some Tylenol if you’d like,” he kindly offered as he followed behind me.

f*uk Tylenol. I needed something harder than that so I could pass out and forget everything that had happened tonight.

I gritted my teeth. “No, I’m good. I’m just going to head back home.”

“Are you sure?” he pressed. “You look really pale.”

Who wouldn’t be? Joanna was wearing his jersey. There was nothing left to be said. That had said it all.

“I’m fine.”

“Good. Let me walk you to your car.”

“I need to walk.” f*uk the car. I needed to sweat this off, or I would crash due to this frantic state of mind I was in.

“Then let me walk you to your house.”

I wanted to growl at him to leave me alone and go back to Joanna, but even that, I couldn’t do, because I couldn’t look at him. I just couldn’t. I didn’t trust myself enough.

“It’s fine. There’s no need for that.”

“Please, don’t argue with me. If you’re walking home this late, I need to make sure you’re going to get there safe.”

f*uk. Okay, whatever. He could follow me or go back into the house to f*uk Joanna, whatever. I didn’t care about any of it.

Fast pacing, I tried to freeze him out by not speaking to him. Although he probably could guess where my thoughts were going, he didn’t have the decency to put any of them to rest or to even openly say it without me having to question him. Somehow, it made me madder, too. After all, let’s face it, it had merely been a couple of hours before when he had said he was waiting for me to come around. He certainly didn’t take time to let things be; he just kept rolling as if nothing mattered. Maybe it didn’t—maybe I didn’t matter that much if he could jump from one woman to the next.

Once we reached the house, something inside of me snapped. “I hate you!” I declared, full of loathing, full of vengeance. “I’m going to try until it happens. I don’t care anymore.”

“I know you will,” he said, boring his eyes into me.

His reaction got me even more heated.

“Good, because I will never pine for you the way I did. I’ll be over you in a heartbeat. Watch me do it. I’m done! I’m just f*uking done!”

“Well, it looks like you’re doing a fine job of getting on without me,” he said with a lot of underlying barb.

“By the looks of it, so are you.”

He shrugged, looking away, as if he was done talking to me.

“I better head back, or they might send out a search party. Have a goodnight, Amber.” He gave me one last look before he spun on his heels and started retracing his steps.

“Did you f*uk her?” I shot my question out loud enough for him to hear me succinctly.

He stopped walking, taking a moment to let the question sink in before deciding to face me.

“Tell me what you want to hear, and I’ll say it,” he murmured. “If my answer will help you find whatever it is you’re searching for, then tell me what to say to you.”

His nonchalant demeanor was grating on me.

“I want the truth,” I growled back vehemently. “Did you f*uk Joanna in your bedroom? Is that why she’s wearing your shirt?” Saying those words out loud made it even worse. God help me, because no Valium could numb me from the pain that was rioting through my body.

He suddenly seemed serious, pondering as he pressed his lips together, deciding how to respond to my question most likely.

“She wanted to…” he delicately murmured before adding, “She tried to seduce me into it.”

His answer wasn’t what I was looking for. He knew it, too, so why was he dancing about the damn subject?

“But did you?” I paused, inhaling deeply. “Did you do it?”

“Stop crying, please. Just go inside.”

Shit. I wasn’t even aware I was crying.

“I can’t stop.” It was the truth. Once I knew I was shedding buckets, there was no going back. All these pent up emotions needed an outlet, and quite frankly, it seemed as though tears were the only solution. “How could you f*uk her, knowing I was downstairs?” Okay, that wasn’t entirely true, but whatever, I was crying, dammit.