Stuck With The Billionaire

Lost

Cara Mckay

I couldn't believe what I had just done. f**k!

I had seduced Zayn Dawson and made him tremble to my touch. I had held him at the tip of my finger. He had been under my mercy. It was all so unbelievable and unreal to me.

Normally I should have been jumping while practicing my victory dance but instead, I was struggling with the feeling of guilt and dread.

What the f**k was guilt doing rearing its ugly head into this s**t. Can't I just get a win and be happy about it?

My legs trembled as I struggled for control. Seducing him and then leaving him at the peak of it had been the plan but somewhere along the line, I had gotten burnt too. My hand felt like it was still grabbing onto his big hard d**k. I shivered at the thought of holding his d**k. It felt so good. Arrrrgh! Stop that s**t you fool!

I was trying so hard to get control of my thoughts but my body betrayed me. My body ached for a touch. His touch. The touch I had stopped him from doing.

I stood up back from the arctic blue settee in my hut. My body resonated with need. I sat down back slowly. The move did nothing to ease the pressure. I stood back up.

Are you f*****g insane?! He's the enemy. Or don't you remember anymore!

My mind flipped through the vivid scenes of all the embarrassment I had gone through because of Zayn Dawson. He had made my life terrible from the first day.

I had been so excited about going off to college. I had no rich family member to boast about. My dad was never in the picture, to begin with. I could hear he was secretly working Christmas nights this whole time as the real Santa Claus and I wouldn't be surprised. My mom was a different case. She took in many boyfriends. She was never in a relationship longer than a month. It got to a point our home could have been mistaken for a B&B. There was a time I was inside the kitchen working my crayons into my latest crap drawing and the whole apartment shook with s****l sounds. Then I didn't know better.

Zayn had appeared for my first History class. I had cursed so loud my stupid voice echoed through the hall. Zayn had walked up to me with that stupid smile across his face. He made fun of me. It was so embarrassing. He called me "Sweatshirts". The name had become my name automatically to all those who didn't know me and didn't care to know.

High school had been worse. His douchery had been pure and untainted then. Zayn had bullied me every day. It had been his life's mission. He just couldn't stop. He couldn't help himself. Nothing else gave him greater joy in life than to make people laugh at me. Well, who's laughing now?

The memories flashed through my mind as I tried to strengthen my unbreakable hatred for him. I wanted to hate him with everything. Every single f*****g thing!

Hot tears stung my eyes. Holding them back seemed an impossible task but I achieved it. Why should I cry over that worthless piece of s**t?

I remembered the day after spring break in High School. I had been excited to be back. I had been excited to-.

Everyone had come back. Everyone was in class. Everyone but Zayn. I had been worried. I still remember not paying attention and looking around frantically. I was so scared. Till he finally walked in making my mouth dry. It was our final year. Zayn had walked in and the whole world had faded away for me. It was just him. I could see no one else but him. He just walked past his usual seat by my side and took an empty seat far back.

That whole day, he stayed on his own. He ignored the whole class lashing out at anyone that dared talk to him. The behavior was odd but I didn't mind. Maybe he just wasn't feeling like himself. I went home that day sad. I cried to sleep.

The next day was more or less the same thing. The worse part was how I was scared of walking up to him while he was suddenly spitting flames at everyone. Would he dare try to do the same to me? I had no idea.

That whole week was hell for me. The whole class expected me to talk to him. Every f*****g one of them stared at me urging me with their eyes. Under the spell of my teenage stupidity, I walked up to Zayn. He had looked up and saw me, his face showing disgust. The first time Zayn had looked at me that way. I wanted to turn around and walk away which was the smartest route but I had stayed.

"Zayn. What's wrong?" I asked in a shaky voice. My teenage body trembled in fear and uncertainty. I was already close to tears.

"Bug off,” he said with a grimace. He hadn't even looked my way.

I stood there. My resolve was hardening. I had already started it so why back off now? I looked down at him. My hand moved to tap him. I wanted to draw his attention. My hand was so close when he retreated, withdrawing from my touch. He looked at me squarely like I was pure vomit.

"Zayn. Babe, it's me, Cara." Hot tears filled the corner of my eyes blurring my vision. His expression didn't change. It didn't soften. It only got colder. The tears got momentum but I did my best to hold them in place.

"Get your ugly ass out of my face already." His voice had gone round the class in silence. It had touched every ear. It had been the push needed to bring my tears rushing down. Their laughter had echoed through my broken mind. I had been miserable the whole day.

The next day, I had tried to talk to him in the hallway but Zayn had knocked me down flat on my ass. I had stayed there on the cold tile for several minutes letting what had happened sink in. I went home angry and spiteful. Those emotions did nothing to stop the tears that night. I had grabbed a pen and pad. I poured my feelings into the letter. Feelings he already knew about. Feelings we had shared once upon a time. My tears stained the letter. I stayed up all night writing.

"Here Zayn." I stood in front of him the next day with the letter stretched towards him. The hand offering the letter felt heavy but I didn't withdraw it.

He sat still looking at me then at the letter. Finally, he grabbed the letter pulling it from my grip. I relaxed. The sound of the letter tearing made my heart tighten. My whole world spun out of control. I had trouble breathing so I ran to the restroom hearing the laughter follow me out.

In the restroom, I cried without end. He had torn the letter I stayed up all night writing. He didn't even read it. Was I that worthless to him now? I tried to think of something that could explain his behavior. What did I do wrong? He had called me ugly. I eyed the mirror in despair. There was nothing ugly about the girl that looked back at me.

The memories washed over me clear as the day it had happened.

Very soon, he had joined alliances with the class bullies and had become King over them. I had been his faithful fall guy to all his pranks and jokes.

My eyes burned from the tears and the renewed hate finding its way into my heart once again. I can't let myself feel anything for the bastard. He didn't even deserve my pity.

I wiped away the tears with one gentle motion. My heartbeat steadied to its normal rhythm. I sat down finally sure I was going to be okay now. My memories from high school had made me cold and calculating. But there were other memories I didn't want to escape. Memories I kept hidden. These memories were fighting now to resurface after being quiet all these years.

Memories that went back. Before the spring break ended. Those memories haunted me now without mercy. I stood up once more as my heart lurched with heavy thrusts.

I couldn't let those memories out. I couldn't let myself remember them because they would inevitably bring about my end. Those memories would f**k everything up. No. I have to be strong.

"I hate you so much Zayn. I f*****g hate everything about you!" I screamed at the wall as loud as my lungs would let me.

My newly braided hair had already turned into a mess. I blamed Zayn. Every f*****g bad thing that was happening in my life was his fault. I was stuck on this stupid island because of him. I tried to fuel my hate enough so that the memories I didn't want loose would finally rest once again. The struggle was too intense. I thought up a thousand stupid reasons to hate him for life and a thousand more reasons to carry on with my plan. But a thousand reasons why I should run into his arms overpowered my common sense.

And finally, I lost....