Frayed (Torn #2)(26)

Trista


Lindsey and I decided to go for a leisurely stroll back to the cottage, instead of taking a ride from the pier. We wanted to explore more of the island, but at the same time just catch up, too. It had been months since we really had time to just have fun and not talk about problems. I could handle this side of Lindsey.

We took the shore route after walking on the long, winding path of never-ending rows of olive trees. Being this close to the sea, where I almost died, brought both sadness and comfort to me. Now I looked at the azure body of water as an omen, a sign, a challenge even. Together with the reality check from Taylor, it taught me that no matter how great the problem, I should at least learn how to endure it, tackle it, fight it. The only thing we could do in life was to survive it. It was the survival of the fittest. Seeing life this way altered my perception completely.

“Do you think Amber’s really in rehab because her grandmother presented her with that ultimatum, or is it because she totally went overboard and got out of hand?” Lindsey gave me a quick glance before she looked down to watch her feet as she walked when she asked me that question.

This had occurred to me as well. Amber was pretty good at hiding her bad habits, even from me, her best friend. It was hard to tell when she was telling the truth or only partially telling it. Amber admitted once that she didn’t outright lie, but spoke only partial truths when the situation needed it. So, it was hard to gauge her text message. “The thought crossed my mind, but I think she’s telling the truth about the ultimatum. I don’t know, but I guess we’ll know the truth when she gets back in a few weeks.”

Lindsey blew out a long breath and shook her head. “Amber is pretty messed up. I still can’t believe that woman bitch-slapped me, though. That shit was painful.”

I snorted when I remembered the incident. “I admired you when you didn’t do anything crazy. I mean—knowing how feisty a woman you are—I expected you to slap her back to her senses or something, but you held back. That was out of character.” We both started to laugh madly. Amber had bitch-slapped Lindsey like she was on WWF.

When our laughter died down, Lindsey spoke up again. “Amber was hurting inside. I’m not that much of a bitch to want to add to her pain. Her parents already got the trophy for that.”

We became silent after her remark. I was sure her thoughts matched mine. Memories of Amber through the years, being treated with cold indifference and no apparent love, twisted my heart. I remembered in sixth grade Amber mentioned that she overheard her father telling her mother that she was a failure since she couldn’t even produce him a son. When I brought the subject up a few days later, Amber made me promise never to speak about it to her, or to anyone, ever again. Thinking back now, I think that brought clarity and answers for her, but then again, Amber has always hidden her real feelings when it came to her family. Funny, Amber was the one who finally caught me with Harry. I thought I had hidden Harry pretty well, but no, never with Amber. She was the female version of Sherlock Holmes.

We could see people hanging out in one of the cottages that lined the shore. I assumed they were the film crew. They looked like the artsy, passionate types. When they yelled and waved, we greeted them the same way as we passed. As we drew close to the cottage, I sighed with relief. I had one more thing to do before we left for Athens this evening.

That thing being Carter’s present. One of the biggest predicaments I had was how to get Emma alone—without Lindsey, Bass or Taylor around. I would have to be more than just sneaky. Bass might hate me forever if he ever found out.

Lindsey and I dusted our feet off before we entered the cottage, barefoot. “I’m going to go get some agua, want some?” I asked Lindsey.

I frowned at her while she stood there, frozen. “Dude, I just asked you a question.”

“Shh… shut the hell up. Be quiet!” Lindsey barely glanced at me as she tiptoed towards the marbled hall, in the direction of the bedrooms.

Of course, curious, I tiptoed and followed her cat-like pose. “What are we doing?” I hissed at her.

“Do you hear that? I think it’s our girl getting her freak on,” Lindsey whispered back. Her eyes sparkled wickedly.

We looked at each other for a few seconds, before it clicked. Oh, heck yes! Score!

We obviously couldn’t miss the down and dirty show—not where the famous Bass was concerned. We started to hurry and listened for where the moans where coming from.

I was giddy with joy and curiosity when we found Emma’s bedroom door halfway open. Jackpot! Lindsey and I were both hyperventilating when we got close to the door.

I poked Lindsey’s arm out of excitement, but she flicked it off. We both mouthed “Oh my god” as we craned our necks to get a closer glimpse of Bass.

The first thing I saw was Bass Cole’s golden ass. He was settled in between Emma’s parted legs. They were making out… that was until Bass started to get down and got ready to show off his special masterful skills. Bass was whispering something in Emma’s ear as he started to slowly stroke her with concentrated precision. Boy, the dirty words that came out of that hot friggin’ mouth… I wanted to die. It was SO blatantly hot! I needed to fan myself before I passed out.

“Ladies.”

A voice came from behind us. Oh, dang it! Did he have to interrupt us when the show had just started?