Perfectly Broken

(20) Artistic Discipline

[For Mature Audience]

Ryan quickly seized me in his arms, his lips devouring mine hungrily as the muscles in his body bulged with me in his grasp. His lips were eager to the touch, savoring me, and I basked in it like it'd be the last time. We both tasted of salt but neither of us minded.

He pulled away breathlessly. "You're sure you're alright?" he asked again, hazel eyes blazing with lust. I nodded, his thumbs caressing my cheeks gently. "And you remember everything?"

"Yes, I remember everything." Smiling innocently at him, I stroked his cheek with the back of my hand, whispering, "Do I need to show you?"

He growled under his breath, obviously turned on by the request. His reply was a rough kiss, basically making me plop back on the bed. He removed the art kit without even leaving my lips, which I was enjoying impeccably. His naked chest felt good against mine, hot and still dripping wet. Just being beneath him felt like I was in a sauna, a steamy, smoldering sauna, especially since we were barely wearing clothes as it was.

When he started to nibble on my earlobe then my neck, I asked in a moan, "What's my punishment?" Usually, the punishment was pleasant then he'd enter pain, which I've come to convert back to pleasure. As long as it was him, though, I didn't care. Because I knew just being with Ryan was pleasure itself.

He paused, his sweet-scented breath hitting me heavily, "I don't want to hurt you anymore, Emma. I've scared you enough." I inhaled harshly, those words unexpectedly filling my erratic heart. Then it pulsed rapidly at the sight of Ryan's devilish half smile. "But I don't mind a little roughhousing if you don't."

Recalling that passionate night at the party, I wanted anything he could give me. His vigorous lips crashed onto mine once more and my finger curled in his hair, the sensation burning in my loins. Intensifying it, he wrapped my legs around his torso, climbing on top of me and deepening the kiss, his tongue mingling with mine. His fingertips caressed my thigh, slowly skimming inwards until his fingers were a mere inch from touching my—

Bang! Bang! Bang!

We both jumped at the sound, a heavy fist pounding on the door.

Ryan growled testily, pulling away from my lips. "WHAT!?" he shouted, frankly bitter about being interrupted. Bizarrely, I found myself irritated by the disturbance, groaning when whoever pounded another three times.

His finally forced himself up and stomped to the door. I sat up on the bed while he unlocked the door, opening it, ready to scream his frustrations out on whomever. But he halted. The door wasn't completely open and his body shielded whoever was at the door. I leaned over to see who with little luck.

Then their voice erupted my nerves. "Ryan, why are you in here?" Chelsea asked almost frantically. There was no way I was going to be sitting around just listening. I shot up and marched to the door, my head half throbbing from the head injury and the other from Ryan's mind-blowing kisses. Examining her with a lethal glare, I ignored the fake worried look she gave me when she spotted me behind him. "Oh, Emma, I'm so sorry. I get so aggress—"

"You did it on purpose and you know it," I snapped, noting her stepping back a smidge.

Her face slumped, eyes flickering back to Ryan. "I need to talk to you." Her fingers were skimming his naked chest, drifting down to his trunks to pull the strings on them. Angry waves rushed through me at the sight, this new jealousy I hadn't experienced except while drunk taking over. "Come on, Emma needs her rest anyway."

He crossed his arms, a dominantly downwards stare smacking her. "Whatever you have to say can be said in front of Emma."

Her mouth dropped and at the sight, the snicker just fluttered out of me without my notice. It caught her attention though. Her button nose crinkled, her lips curling like a dog ready to attack. That should have been a sign to stop provoking her. However, all I could see was the red hue in my eyes that constantly reminded me of the beach ball slamming into my head with more power than usual. So I stood my ground—beside Ryan.

"I'm listening," I teased, the corner of my lip twitching to restrain my smile.

That broke the camel's back.

"You b***h!" she hissed, charging for me.

Her hands were in the position to strangle me, her green eyes fogging over with crazed darkness. It only happened in a split second, her moisturized hands grazing my neck. Her manicured nails dug into my skin so hard I shrieked when she was yanked away before she could wring my neck. Ryan held her back when I stumbled, falling on the ground in a panic that she just tried to choke me.

"You stole him from me!" she screamed hysterically, tears falling like shimmering diamonds. "He loved me and you stole him from me, you thieving who—!"

"CHELSEA!" Ryan barked, turning her to him. He was now fuming with red rage, his hands gripping her arms so tightly I could see the pain on her face. His eyes bled into hers. "I have never once told you I loved you! Emma's the one I'll always love—past, present, and future! I'm sorry I ever used you to suppress my feelings for her but you have to let it go! You have to let me go!" Some of his anger was wearing thin during his shouting, his expression now apologetic. But once his words were done, he turned his focus on glaring at her. Icy chills dance down my spine so I knew they were turning Chelsea into a Popsicle. "This conversation is done." He spat the last word through his teeth before tossing Chelsea out the door.

She caught her balance just as he turned his back on her. "Ry—!" She didn't get to finish before he slammed the door in her face, locking it behind him.

Summoning all my anger into a tiny ball, I willed it away, closing my eyes and taking deep breaths. Once doing so, I winced at the pain in my neck as I stood up, Ryan approaching me cautiously. Before I could touch the wound, Ryan grabbed my hand and pulled me into the bathroom. We stopped at the mirror to see the wound was deeper than I thought.

"Damn," Ryan cursed under his breath.

Three bloody scraps stung, each one burning worse than the last, blood oozing down to my chest, staining my bikini top. I could only stare at them shockingly, fingers brushing the wound only to be soaked by crimson blood.

Ryan wet a bath cloth and held it to the spot, the coolness first surprising then relaxing. "I'm so sorry I didn't stop her in time," he apologized, somewhat distraught. Playing back what had happened, it all seemed too surreal that'd she'd try to choke me. To choke me!

I gulped down the sticky ball of tension in my throat. "She just tried to kill me," I stated matter-of-factly, a twinge of fright in the back of my throat. He tried to console me by folding his arms around my shoulders, his chest pressed against my back and his lips in my hair. "That lunatic shouldn't even be in here."

"I never meant for things to get this...hectic." Before walking away, he kissed the back of my hair, the simple gesture making the wounds in my neck ease. It's sad to admit I liked his touch on me. He sat down on the rim of the tub, head buried in his hands, taking deep breaths. The world seemed to freeze when he looked at me seriously, eyes looking so fragile if they swerved a centimeter they'd break. "Emma, when I tell you this, please don't...don't be mad."

My heart stopped at the tone, my knees turning to jelly when I took a step forward. "Mad about what?"

"About Chelsea."

Oh God, what about Chelsea?

The first thing to come to mind was that...she was pregnant. The possessiveness over Ryan, the grizzly hormone changes (unless that was her personality), and the haunting glow that seemed to illuminate her since we met: likely signs of pregnancy. It's only been over three months since they broke up, since Ryan and I became s*x friends, it was a possibility. She was utterly perfect—on the outside—I wouldn't put it against her if she was and could hide it so well. At the thought, I became nauseous that he'd confirm my belief.

Inhaling agonizingly, the words entwined with my exhale, "Is she pregnant?"

Ryan looked at me baffled in a snap of a finger, leaning back like I just stabbed a knife in his chest. "What—no!" He shook his head frantically. "Hell no! She's far from that, what made you think that?"

"I don't know! Her madness over you and it's not every day you ask me not to be mad. You simply don't care when I get mad." The wound in my neck was burning the more bitterly I spoke.

He shook his head, scoffing with a miniscule smirk. "Believe me, she's not. And I do care...more than you'll know." Why were his words hitting my heart so forcefully? "Why would you care if she was pregnant? Are you?" He asked the last part sternly although I saw a mysterious glint in his eyes I couldn't decrypt.

I gasped, offended. "Of course not!" I was very serious about being protected. At the beginning of our pact, we'd use condoms, and the overwhelming fervor of lust made me worry one day we wouldn't be able to control ourselves. So I eventually went to the pill and took them every morning—like second nature. "Don't ever assume such a thing...of me."

I have every right to assume anything of Chelsea, I thought pompously. I have the scratch marks to prove it.

He shook his head, this time amusingly while his hands clamped the rim of the tub. Crossing my arms, I towered over his sitting figure by a good foot. "Well, I'm glad we got that off our chests," he mused.

"Aren't you going to tell me why I shouldn't be mad?" I reminded him, feeling uneasy that we had that pregnancy talk and how it deflected to me. I wasn't the girl on trial here...if there was a trial...which there isn't...but is...I don't know.

That made the solemn face return, a dark veil masking his eyes when he looked to the ground. He took a deep, loud breath. "Chelsea isn't in her right mind." Curiosity compressed against my ribs, making it sore, urging me to snatch answers up to relieve it. I stayed silent though, hoping he'd go on to explain. He looked up at me, strands of light brown hair falling into his eyes darkly. "She..." He pressed his lips together, debating in his mind whether to tell me or not. "She...she has...schizophrenia."

My eyebrows shot up, eyes widening beyond human capability as my heart stopped, mouth falling. I learned about schizophrenia in my psych class last semester. It's a mental disorder which makes it difficult to differentiate fiction from reality. As if it'd awaken a connection to Chelsea, I touched the blood drying on my neck and chest. There was so little I knew about her but I never thought she'd have such a curse thrust upon her. I thought she was just the average bitchy cheerleader not...schizophrenic.

I couldn't hold myself up anymore, plopping to my knees, bruising my knee in the process. It alarmed Ryan but I spoke before he could rush to my aid. "Since when?"

He was now looking down on me, hazel eyes perusing me absentmindedly. Once satisfied, his gaze plummeted into my eyes. "Since childhood. Because of this, her family and friends would ridicule her then use her for their own purposes—money, attention, anything. When I met her, I wanted to protect her from those things, I still want to. Then she found out I was in love with you and went berserk. Her aunt, the only one who cares for her in her family, decided to send her to a mental institution when she became out of control. I just helped spread the rumor that she moved to a Catholic girl school because it's no one's business when it comes to the truth. She already has to put up with enough from her family, she doesn't need to be mocked or pitied by idiotic teenagers who don't really give a damn."

"Then why are you telling me?"

He pointed to the cut I was still brushing with my fingertips. "I think you have every right to know, especially after that." He sighed, pushing back his hair as he stood up to run the water. He didn't look at me while he continued to speak. "When she came, I made it a priority to stick by her side so she wouldn't hurt anyone. So she wouldn't hurt you."

Water sprinkled in the tub when he flipped it to shower, the sound obscuring my thoughts. There was so much running through it yet I couldn't perceive any of it. Is that the best way to describe it? There was so much about Chelsea, about Ryan, about everything running through my mind so rapidly, it all seemed like a blur.

Jolting when a warm hand touched my shoulder, I looked up into Ryan's concerned eyes. "Come, you need to get cleaned up."

Taking his open hand, I nodded, appreciating his help standing up only to feel numbness in them. "Um, Ryan? How'd Chelsea get out? The mental institution, that is."

His shoulder went limp at the question, face turned up in a grim scowl. "You'll have to ask Alec about that."

"Alec?"

Alec was keeping more secrets than I'd imagined. First lying to me about being s*x friends and now he had something to do with Chelsea getting out of the mental hospital. How? Gradually, the old Alec I loved was shattering before my eyes and rebuilding into someone I couldn't recognize. Someone I didn't want to recognize. It pained me to think that way, that my childhood best friend had lied to me, had hurt me. Why was he turning into this person?

Ryan only nodded, urging me into the shower. Heated water pelted down on me, washing away the grimy blood stuck to my chest and the salt off my skin. Drawing in a startled breath, I felt Ryan step in with me, his chest to my back which I sunk deeper in.

"What are you doing?" I asked, regardless of relaxing further into his skin.

"What I want," he answered.

That brought a smile on my face, to hear his dominate tone again, instead of a tone full of sorrow and anger. I turned to him, my back now being drenched in water. His eyes looked thirsty for me, eyes roaming my wet body. Instantly, he grabbed my wrist and in a swift motion, he turned us completely around, shoving me back to the tile wall. My gasp came out in an erotic moan, pleasing him to the brink, him now pinning my wrist to the wall above my head.

Catching my breath, I asked, "What happened to not punishing me?"

He shrugged, the devious glint in his eyes causing me to fidget ecstatically. Even after all this time of conversing, I still wanted him, needed him like a fix. "Let's call this...artistic discipline."

I was about to ask what that meant, however, he stole my words when his lips bent down and kissed my wound. It stung at first, a burning sensation that was anything but pleasant, then as his tongue laved it, it transposed into paradisiac. Once I was getting into it, a moan rumbling out of me, he pulled away. I expected blood to be on his lips but, no, the water washed it away before he even touched me.

His lips devoured mine, letting go of my hands so I could entangle them in his hair, feeling water streaming down the muscles of his back. We deepened it, his tongue caressing mine enthusiastically, his body pressing hard against me to the point where I could feel his erection on my stomach.

He pulled away so we could catch our breaths, the room steaming up more than I thought was possible, and the air thick around us in white clouds. I grabbed both sides of his face, staring into his eyes. "No more secrets," I ordered, this time taking the dominant position. I dropped my hands from his baffled face. "Please."

A groan rippled out him. "Then I guess I should tell y..."

"Tell me what?"

His words were snatched away when my bikini top fell to the tub floor, his eyes widening with hunger when he spotted my bare breast. "It can wait." Almost immediately, he lowered his mouth to my breast. A yelp escaped at the abruptness, unexpected of his quick movement. I drowned myself in the sensation, my back against the wall. His teeth nipped at my n****e greedily.

The more I moaned, the more he explored my body like he's never touched me before, every touch seeming new and exciting. Kissing downward, his finger hooked inside my bikini bottoms and running my outer lip. He could see the burning need to have his touch as I spread my legs a smidge, barely notice about. He pulled down my bikini bottoms eagerly, his fingertips scorching my core. It was hot. Pleasurable hot that became something I craved.

He used his teeth more than usual, grinning when I screeched as he bit one lip. To make up for the pain, he licked my core hungrily, first slow then dangerously fast, his tongue making me weak to the knees. With my back arched and fingers coiling in his hair, I closed my eyes, immersing in the feeling and the sound of pelting water. It was amazing, ecstasy rising within me, the room hot and humid.

He rose to his feet, his wet lips kissing my lips, neck, and earlobe. The feeling was so intoxicating that I hadn't noticed he slipped off his trunks, a wet thud hitting the tub floor. My nails racked down his back as he bit down on my neck, sucking, licking, and kissing. His erection was poking me in the stomach.

"Ryan," I sighed when he lifted me up, legs around his waist. I kissed his lips once more, now hungering for him, and a burning passion enflamed within me. "I love you." Did I just say that? We halted the kiss, him staring at me bewilderedly with his arms still holding me up.

"Did you just say...what I think you just said?" he asked, hesitantly, as if he couldn't believe it himself. A churning in my stomach told me I couldn't take away the words. I felt them though. They've been dwelling inside since the night of the party. I locked it away, forgetting it...until today.

With meek confidence, I nodded, his eyes staring at me in admiration. "I...I love you, Ryan." For the first time, I spotted something in his eyes I'd never witnessed before. But I knew what it was. It was love. My heart was thumping hard in my chest, so loud I thought he could hear it over the rushing water.

He inhaled, his body slumping in slight relief. "I love you too, Emma," he smiled gently. "I've always loved you."

I couldn't respond before he returned to kissing me, this time with more intensity as if pouring his love into me. I've never experienced this before. Being loved like this. I've always loved Alec one-sidedly. Yet, Ryan's been by my side hiding his own love for me. Why didn't I notice love right under me—literally?

While kissing, he slowly slid his manhood inside me, filling me up with more fervor than I'd ever felt. The water seemed to cool and heat us simultaneously, my cries of pleasure drowned out by it. Pinning me to the wall again, he pumped vigorously in me, pleasure engulfing me instantly. Every thrust, every kiss, every scratch on his back only heightened our lust. An emotional whirlwind swirled in my gut, love, lust, excitement, urging me to savor the moment.

Before I could come, a wave ready to rip through it barriers, he slipped out of me and placed me on my feet. Not even a second past by before he kissed my lips again, turning me around so he could thrust in me from behind. The entwinement of pain and pleasure filling my gut along with his manhood caused me to gasp, clawing at the sleek, wet tile.

Then shooting pain erupted in my shoulder. I screamed and turned to see Ryan biting the back of my shoulder, continuing to thrust inside me. "What are you doing?" I groaned, clutching my hand when he bit again.

He paused for a second, "Artistic discipline." He continued, biting deep and I thought I'd bleed, his thrust becoming more powerful and core shattering. I bit my bottom lip, suppressing a scream when he bit down again. His hand was massaging my breast gently to make up for the pain he was bestowing on my shoulder. Finally, the pain settled and he swerved me around to face him, his lips crashing against mine viciously, taking me by surprise. I allowed myself to absorb the taste of them to ignore the pain sizzling on my shoulder.

His manhood found itself inside me again, getting deeper inside me as our kiss deepened. His lips stifled the wail of pleasure when I came and he came also, our kiss never ceasing. I loved every piece of our lovemaking, even the painful part. We kissed beneath the water longer, our arms wrapped around one another, body molding together.

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

We broke apart at the sound of the fire alarm blurring louder than the water. Ryan backed away, shutting off the water as he stepped out in a hurry, helping me out after. Was there a fire? He grabbed two towels and I wrapped myself with one while he only wrapped his waist. The moment his hand touched the doorknob though, it went off, a ringing resonating in my ear in the aftermath.

"What the hell?" he cursed. He shook his head, opening the door just when someone pounded on the door. He marched to it, not caring who saw him wet in a towel while I scurried behind his broad body, not so confident in being notice in such a way. "What the hell happened to you?!"

Jude stepped in the doorway, heaving, eyebrows dipped. But it wasn't his facial expression that pricked our interest. He was covered in soot on the top half, his face lightly masked in it, smudged on his cheeks, shirt, and hands.

"Jude, what happened?" I asked, remembering the fire alarm a second ago.

He looked at Ryan, somewhat distraught. "Your ex-girlfriend is what happened."

Ryan froze, the hairs on the back of his neck visibly rising. "What'd she do?"

"She just came into the room asking which side is yours. I told her thinking nothing of it then she grabbed your things, threw all your s**t on the ground, and lit it up like a freaking bonfire in July!"

My hands shot up to cover my gasp. Ryan only clinched his fist, his face turning red for a moment. I could practically see the gears turning in his head as he tried to calm himself down, breathing deeply as he shut his eyes. Chelsea wasn't in her right mind. It was the schizophrenia. But still, someone could have gotten hurt. Or worse, someone could have died.

He blinked them open. "Where is she?"

He sighed. "She just hopped in her car and split. I don't know where."

"s**t!" Ryan shouted. He couldn't control his rage at the news, punching the wall by the door which made Jude leap a good yard back, fearful. The wall didn't dent. Instead, it crumbled at the impact, a hole exposing the interior. His fist was battered but he could care less, pulling it out and cursing again. "f**k. This isn't good."

"What isn't good?" I asked. Jude and I both watched him march passed Jude, heading to his own room. We didn't even have to leave my room to hear him shout, "GOD f*****g DAMNIT!"

We raced to his bedroom and I gasped again, seeing black and white clothes (I think, they hardly resembled anything) on the floor with a dark circle around them. The black part was obvious burn marks and the white was foam from the fire extinguisher beside the bed. Part of the closet was burnt slightly and the smell of smoke still lingered in the air.

Ryan leaped over the pile of clothes like it was nothing, grabbing his cellphone off the nightstand. He speedily dialed a number and put the phone against his ear. Jude and I looked at each other questioningly, wondering if he was calling Chelsea.

Someone answered and Ryan spoke cautiously to them. "Hey, Ramona—" The voice on the other end spoke frantically, resembling the sound of a chipmunk at this distance. "...I know, she's here—well, was." He paused a moment. "I don't know how! I sure as hell didn't!" He paused again, throwing back his head as he paced Jude's clean side of the room. "I was going to call you sooner. I thought I could handle her. My mistake." The voice spoke in a high-pitch, enough for Ryan to pull it away from his ear. "Calm down, I'll call the police and...what the f**k do you mean don't call? She almost burnt down a f*****g house! And now she's gone to only God knows where and could be f*****g up something else!" He sighed, disgruntled, his fist pounding the nightstand. "You search for her then, damn!" He hung up, angrier than when he called.

He tossed the cellphone down, looking at us, knowing we were questioning the call. "That was Chelsea's aunt. She'd been wondering where Chelsea went off to. She wants to search for her alone, said I interfered enough." He looked so broken saying that last part and I knew he was blaming himself for her actions. If he hadn't thrown her out of my room like he did, if he had listened to her request and spoken to her, none of this would have happened.

"Why was Chelsea—WHAT IN THE WORLD?!" Tori panicked when she entered behind us. She looked around wide-eyed. "No wonder she left in a hurry."

"Chelsea went Godzilla on Ryan's things," Jude humorously explained. "Then she hurried to return to terrorizing Japan again." I shot him a glare, mentally telling him it wasn't the time. Ryan just stared blankly at the floor, immobilized for a lengthy period and we stared at him silently.

After a while, I broke through, clutching my towel around me. "Ryan, we can always replace your—"

"I don't care about that!" he barked. "I just—urg!" His hands clawed at his hair in frustration, bothering me immensely. He shook his head as if he couldn't believe what was going on, his head lowered. "I need to go find Chelsea."

He rummaged through Jude's things, giving him a dirty look, daring him to reproach him. Obviously, Jude knew to let him be. They weren't even the same size, that was obvious, but it didn't stop him. Ryan took out some clothes and got changed in the bathroom. Then he c****d his head out, the dirty look remaining. "You didn't tell me she went inside the bathroom."

As if on cue, we all hastened to the bathroom and paused.

On the mirror in deep red lipstick, she scribbled, I WILL KILL EMMA!

Tightness in my rib made it harder to breathe, reading each sentence one after another, all of them digging into me like a knife. I WILL KILL EMMA. I struggled to breathe at the sight, my heart growing heavy until it sank into my ribcage, feeling lightheaded. She's going to kill me. If she could make a fire and almost burn this place down, what was stopping her from coming back and killing me?

I've never felt so frightened in my life.

Seeing me hyperventilating, Ryan drew me into his arms, rubbing my shoulders soothingly. "I won't let her hurt you, Emma, I promise," he vowed, kissing my hair. It wasn't until he rubbed my arms that I realized I was trembling. "It'll be okay."

Forgetting that he needed to change, he gathered me up and carried me back to my room. In that state of shock, panic coursing through my veins, I clung to him for dear life. I wholeheartedly believed she'd be back to kill me. Whether it is today, tomorrow, or next week, she'd kill me. She already tried to chock me.

It wasn't until Ryan was brushing back my hair soothingly that I realized I was lying in bed, my body still quaking. Why was I feeling like this? They were only words.

Words that could become reality any minute now.

"I'm not leaving you," he told me before placing a kiss on my forehead. "Now calm down."

Before I knew it, I found myself covered in darkness and then a flicker of light captured my attention, hauling me out of my sleep. When did I go to sleep?

"...yes, ok," I heard Ryan say besides me. "No, just take her back. I don't want anything more to do with her." Swerving my head to the left, I watched him hang up his phone and rake a hand tiredly through his hair.

"Ryan...?" I muttered. My throat was completely dry.

"Emma," he sighed, walking to my side.

"What happened?"

"You had a panic attack and knocked yourself out. You've been sleeping for a good hour." He sat on the edge of the bed, my tired eyes wandering over his. "Chelsea was caught speeding on the highway and getting a notice to be on alert, they took her to the precinct. Her aunt's picking her up now, so you have nothing to be afraid of."

That gave me a sense of ease but not completely. In the back of my mind, I could see those words written in blood red lipstick. I WILL KILL EMMA. However, I just woke up from having a panic attack. I didn't need to submit myself to another.

"I'm going to tell the others," he said, placing a kiss on my forehead. He caressed my cheek soothingly, looking tenderly into my eyes. "I love you."

I weakly smiled. "I love you too."

As he got up and walked out, I pushed the covers off to realize I was naked, but in the solitude of my room, I didn't care. I walked into the bathroom, feeling soreness in my shoulder. Recalling what we did only minutes ago before Chelsea's disaster party and my freak out, I wondered why he bit so hard. Turning around in the mirror, I was surprised at what I saw.

Ryan bit a heart into the back of my shoulder.

~*~*~*~

I stared at the video message on my phone in complete shock, not believe what was really there. I sat on the porch of the cabin, Jude staring at his phone as well behind me while Tori and Ryan (thankfully) sat up camp. My heart was literally squeezing the life out of itself, the shame of the video penetrating me.

It was a video of when Jude and I first met, Jude eating my core and I crying his name.

At the end of the message, an unknown number wrote, "You don't spill my secret, then I won't spill yours—to the world."

"It's Brooke," Jude stated, completely sure of himself.

"How do you know?"

He gave me a duh look before turning away embarrassingly. "Who else would want to blackmail us with this? Who'd even know about this? It's obviously been videoed by one of the security cameras on my property."

"Well, I guess you're right." I couldn't look at him, my cheeks enflamed in redness. I've repressed memories of that night. Since when? I don't know. But things had become suddenly awkward between Jude and I now and the tension was gradually escalating. Only the two of us knew about it. And, if things about Brooke spilled, the whole world would know.

When Tori came skipping towards us, on impulse, we hid our phones away. "Come on, guys, Ryan just made the fire hot and cozy," she beamed, her hair high ponytail swinging from side to side. "I'm going to get marshmallows."

She walked passed us and once she was gone, we stood up, walking to the fire pit Ryan had made. Three logs were laid out, enough for two people each. However, we knew Alec would stay locked in his room, having avoided me since the lake incident.

"What's wrong with you both?" Ryan asked when we approached silently, taking a seat. Jude and I could no longer catch each other's eyes without feeling shame. This awkwardness wasn't even between us when he first did it but now, things were different. He had Tori and I had Ryan, although we remain eminent to claim a title for ourselves.

"Nothing," we both said simultaneously.

He didn't believe us, raising an eyebrow. He stared at us for the longest before looking at the fire pit. "If you're worried about Chelsea coming back," he assumed. "She's not."

I took a deep breath, my worries of Chelsea's return long gone. It was now replaced with a new worry of having me and Jude's secret unveiled. Especially to them.

Tori returned with marshmallows, sticks already in place for us as they sat down beside us. Tori was ignorant to the tension floating around her, sitting between Jude and me. I didn't want her to know in case she hated me in the end. I didn't want to hurt her although she knew everyone here had a past. However, Jude and I acted like there was never a thing between us. It seemed to flutter away when they met.

Now it was coming back to bite us on the ass.

The night air was cool and shimmering with stars. It was a clear night for camping, buying tents in the small town only a few miles down the mountain. Ryan even bought a ton of new clothes, Tori especially happy to help in the shopping department, even if it were men clothes. When we arrived back though and started setting up camp, Jude and I got the same text at the same time.

Then our past came crashing down on us.

"...Jude, if you don't stop stealing my marshmallows, I'm going to bop you upside the head," Tori threated with a giggle. Jude just stole her third marshmallow since he complained his always got burnt.

She nudged him roughly when she replaced it, knocking him over. He fell to the ground with a laugh and once his laughter died down, we all heard the muffled moans. There is no way to describe the pain in my heart when we heard my voice moaning Jude's name and his voice begging for it.

Tori picked up Jude's phone that had fallen out, staring at it horrifically. "Jude...Emma...what...what is this?" she stuttered, the volume high enough to hear every word.

"Tori, it's not..." Jude began before stopping. It's exactly what it looks like. And we hadn't told a soul. We told neither Tori nor Ryan.

When I turned to Ryan, I could see the anger slowly seeping into him drop by drop. The vein in his forehead throbbing, and fist clenching so tightly, I thought he'd break the skin. His eyes flickered to me and it chilled my blood like ice.

"What happened to no more secrets?"