Page 44 of Delirium

Fuck’s sake.The way her back arched when Camp bent his head to suck her nipple was seared into my brain until my dying days. God, I had no chance with her—there had possibly been a chance early on, before we found ourselves on opposite sides of the fence—but my odds had fallen to approximately 0.00% when I threw Nash under the bus.

I had just been soangry. I was sojealous. A thousand emotions rolled around in my chest and I had nowhere to put them. I couldn’t be the one touching her. I couldn’t be the one running my fingers across her pebbling nipples, slipping my finger into her tight pussy. I wasn’t the one who watched her while she wrapped her perfect pink lips around my cock, stroking her hair as she took me deeper and deeper, andfuck!

My cock throbbed, painfully hard. I learned a long time ago that feelings didn’t do anyone any favors. Today confirmed any doubts I might have had.

My brain had been completely rewired, cycling over and over the thoughts of Scarlett, dark hair splayed out around her while she trembled through her orgasm.

It should’ve been me.The thought ricocheted through me, quick as lightning.

It should’ve been, but that chance was long gone now. Nash’s face had never looked more broken, and while I saw the shock written all over Scarlett and Camp’s faces, I also saw the deeper emotion—the one that saidIwas in the wrong for announcing it.

TheCarpe Diemwas in my sights. I hadn’t needed a compass or Nash to find my way back to the boat, because sheer anger had been enough to guide me. Once I was up the gangplank and back on board, I quickly locked myself in my cabin, tossing my useless satchel to the ground. My mission was probably useless on all fronts now, because I doubted Nash would be willing to take me anywhere at this point.

My only saving grace was that it was still the wrong weather to head back upstream, so moving downstream was really the only option unless Nash wanted to waste all his fuel getting rid of me. As angry as he was, I knew he wouldn’t leave me on the riverbank to starve to death or to become dinner for some other starving animal.

This was the rainforest after all. Eat or be eaten.

The sweat still dripped off my neck, and suddenly was all too aware of my uncomfortable shirt. I unbuttoned it as fast as my fingers would allow me, seams popping as I tossed the soaked fabric to the floor.

“Fuck!” I screamed at the top of my lungs. “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!”

My angry screams echoed out my open window and down the river, the only response a smattering of chirping birds, as if they thought my pain was funny.

I’d fucking show them funny when I ate them all for dinner. Eat or be eaten my fucking ass.

I knew I didn’t have a lot of time to figure out what to do. The others would be back eventually, and God only knew what state they would be in when they arrived. If I was going to plan my next move, it needed to be done sooner rather than later.

On the off-chance Nash did decide to leave me for dead on the side of the river, I piled my clothes back into the bag I’d brought. If I was lucky, he’d at least take me as far as the city, and as pissed as I was at Clancy currently, I’d be able to figure out a way home from there. Otherwise, I’d just keep my head down the rest of the ride, ignore the happy couple—throuple?—and hope they ignored me in return.

My cock strained against my pants, demanding attention. I needed to ignore the desperation clawing at my stomach, because all it did was bring back the reminders of Scarlett, her blue eyes locking with mine for a brief moment, telling me things I could only hope to hear whispered from her lips.

I knew what Nash thought. That I always got what I wanted. He was right. There wasn’t a lot in this world you couldn’t get with either a recognizable name or a lot of money, and I just happened to have both. Or, at least I used to. But neither of those things impressed Scarlett anyway.

I was officially miserable. I was alone in this world—finally, truly alone—watching everyone else build relationships and move on with their lives while I remained in the mud, slowly drowning in my filth.

Voices filtered in through my still-open window, and I strained to hear them. No one sounded angry. They didn’t even soundsad.Huh. Maybe I didn’t know people as well as I thought I did.

I rolled my last shirt, crammed it into the bag, and set it down next to my satchel. There. At least I was prepared no matter what came next.

When the knock on my door arrived, I was expecting it. Here it was. My judgment day. I’d meet it head on, of course. I’d meet it like a man, and own up to my actions, even if I knew they were the wrong ones. At the end of the day, I hadn’t lied. I knew why Nash ran. When we couldn’t find him the next day, Tommy told the whole story to my father, who in turn told me. And while seeing Nash as a killer hadn’t ever entered my mind, it also wasn’t completely out there, either. The guy was big, and despite his joyful personality, if you didn’t know him, you’d be terrified of him, too. There was a reason my father pegged him to work for us.

While I had prepared myself for the knock, I wasn’t prepared for the voice that followed.

Scarlett’s tone was light but firm. “I know you’re in there, James. You might as well open the door.”

There was a chance this was even worse than I’d originally anticipated. I wasn’t sure I could stand Scarlett looking at me with shame and disappointment. That look had been bad enough from my father. But Scarlett…I wasn’t sure I’d ever recover from her looking at me with disapproval.

She was right, though. She knew I was in here. Ignoring her was childish and petty. Being wrong was one thing, being immature was another altogether.

I stared down at my bare chest. It wasn’t like she hadn’t seen me like this before. The memory of our stolen moment in the hallway was imprinted on my brain, but now I wondered if we had different memories of the same few minutes.

I opened the door to find Scarlett standing on the other side, a completely blank expression on her face. Either she really didn’t care, or she was a much better liar than I’d originally thought.

She walked in and closed the door, leaning against the chipped wood with crossed arms. “So.”

“So,” I repeated, unsure if my mouth was capable of forming any other words.

“Did you want to try and explain what happened back there, or should I just assume you take no fault, and talkatyou instead ofwithyou?” Scarlett drummed her fingers against her arm. I took note of the steady beat she tapped, avoiding her eyes entirely.

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