When Rivals Fall: A Bully Romance (Bayshore Rivals Book 1)

by J. L. Beck

  “As always, it has been a pleasure doing business with you,” a man spoke, his voice deep and there was a captivating darkness about his tone that had me stopping mid step.

  “Likewise, Mr. Rossi,” my father replied.

  “I think we’ve been associates long enough for you to start calling me Xander,” the man said.

  “Very well, Xander,” my mom purred. Followed by a girlish giggle. “Thank you again for helping us with the Bishop situation.” My mom said their name as if it left a bad taste in her mouth.

  “No problem at all, framing people is my second favorite work.”

  “Oh, what’s your favorite?”

  I can already tell the answer isn't one I want to hear.

  “Killing people,” the man confessed, without an ounce of sarcasm in his voice.

  Nervous laughter bubbled from both of my parents’ throats while bile rose in mine. I clasped my hand over my mouth and ran back up the stairs. I barely made it to my bathroom before vomiting out the contents of my stomach.

  Once I was able to get up from the bathroom floor I went back into my room and opened the laptop. Xander Rossi was his name, I typed it in the search bar and hit enter. Immediately I had one article after the next pop up. Most of them were from the local news channel and newspapers.

  Xander Rossi was the head of the local mob.

  My parents had been doing business with the fucking mafia.

  Shelby stares at me silently, and then her lips part, “The mob?” she finally asks, her tone filled with disbelief.

  “Yes, the mob,” I confirm. “That’s when everything started going downhill. I confronted them the next day, I started digging, asking questions. Once I opened my eyes, I couldn't look away. All the lies, all the things I believed that they told me. I destroyed someone's life because of them, because of their lies.”

  I’m not looking for pity. I’ve taken responsibility for my actions, my parents on the other hand, have not.

  “Wow, that’s…wow,” she says, her eyes wide.

  “Yeah, so I'm done with them. I don't know what they were trying to do by showing up here and acting like nothing happened, but I shut them down.”

  “Good. You don't need that kind of negativity in your life,” she says, and she is right, I don’t need them in my life, nor do I need the Bishops. They were so quick to turn against me and didn’t even let me explain. Which hurt like hell. They were too busy hating me to listen to my side of the story. I thought we had moved passed our differences, let the past go, but instead it feels like they were just waiting for a reason to turn on me.

  They want to be enemies again. Fine. I don’t need them, nor do I want them. They were pains anyway, or at least that’s what I tell myself as I get ready for classes.

  Chapter Eleven

  I spend the next two days torn between wanting to reach out to the guys and trying my best to avoid them. Apparently, they’re doing the latter, because neither Sullivan nor Banks showed up to the classes that we share.

  Like the moping teenager I am, I walk to the local coffee shop in the afternoon, getting a hot cocoa and the biggest chocolate fudge brownie they have.

  “For here or to go?” The girl with bright pink and purple hair from behind the counter asks.

  “To go, please.”

  “Hey, Harlow,” a familiar voice calls. I turn to find Caroline standing a few feet away. “Looks like you had the same idea as me,” she smiles. “I’ll have the second biggest brownie,” she tells the barista.

  “Hey, Caroline,” I take in her warm smile. Shelby’s been busy at the gallery and suddenly sitting down with a friend seems more appealing than sitting outside on a bench in the quad by myself.

  “Want to sit and stuff our faces with sweet goodness together?” I ask.

  “Sounds amazing,”

  We pay, get our orders, and sit down in the corner of the coffee shop, near a bookshelf that’s brimming with books.

  “How have you been?” Caroline asks, as I shove a piece of brownie into my mouth. It tastes like Heaven and chocolate had a baby.

  I shrug, “Okay.”

  “You really scared us all on the boat, the other night. When Oliver pulled you out of the water your lips were blue. I was worried you weren’t going to make it.”

  “It really wasn’t that big of a deal,” I lie. It was a huge deal, someone had wanted to hurt me, who, I didn’t know, but I also didn’t want to worry Caroline with that admission either. I hope she doesn’t ask me if I jumped.

  I don’t want people thinking I’m suicidal either, though I’m sure if I put my ear close enough to the ground within the gossip circles I’m sure I’ll hear a rumor being spread about me.

  She jumped, no one pushed her. She’s crazy.

  “Mhm, then why do you look like you’re having the worst week of your life?”

  “Well, I just have some personal stuff going on, and you know not to be weird, or anything, but every time I feel like I need a friend or someone to lift me up you appear like a fairy godmother.”

  A soft giggle escapes her pink lips. “That’s me, the fairy godmother of friendship.” Soft chatter surrounds us as we nibble on our brownies together. I wash mine down with even more sugary goodness, hoping that the sugar high will give me enough strength to get through the rest of my day. As badly as I don’t want to admit it, the brothers have ruined me.

  I’ve grown dependent on them. Where having them around, and following me, annoyed me at first, I kind of grew accustomed to it and now that they aren’t I just feel alone, discarded like trash. I’m sure that’s the point though, to make me feel like shit.

  “Are you sure you’re okay?” Caroline asks again, placing a gentle hand on my shoulder, concern flickering in her eyes.

  I look up from my brownie, “Would it be weird if I said I was in love with three guys?”

  Caroline blinks, a neutral look on her heart shaped face, “It’s 2019, who cares if you love three guys? Love is love, right?”

  “Right, but…” I swallow my throat suddenly feeling dry. “What if they’re three guys that you shouldn’t want to be with? Like they’re bad for you, but you can’t help yourself?”

  “Ooo, kinda like these brownies?” She says, wiggling her eyebrows, and popping another piece of gooey goodness into her mouth.

  “Yes, kinda like these brownies.”

  “You indulge, I guess. I don’t know, do what you think is right?”

  I want to tell her I have no idea what is right or wrong, but I don’t. I won’t bore her with the details of my dramatic weekend. I don’t want to send her running for the hills.

  We finish our brownies, sneaking in a little small talk here and there. By the time we’re finished my belly is full, and I’m back to smiling again.

  “If you’re still struggling with English, I can help you. We could meet up in the library or something one of these nights. Go over notes?”

  “You would do that for me?” I ask, as we walk out of the coffee shop and towards the quad where I will most likely end up seeing at least one of the Bishop Brothers. It’s strange, because now that they’re not following me around like lost puppies I find myself watching for them. I want to see them. Hell, I crave them, my belly tightens, heat blooming deep down inside me when I think of them.

  “Of course, you’ve got a lot going on and what kind of friend would I be if I didn’t offer to help you?”

  “Honestly, a typical one. In case you haven’t noticed I don’t have many friends here.” I mumble, wrapping my hand around the strap of my backpack. In the back pocket of my jeans my phone starts to vibrate. Laughter meets my ears, but I’m too busy unlocking my phone and looking through it to look up and see what has people laughing.

  “Harlow…” I can hear the worry in Caroline’s voice without even looking at her face to confirm it.

  My phone continues to vibrate, and vibrate, and vibrate and I’m starting to get flustered with all the incoming text messages. Lifting my
head my gaze catches on the east campus building where I notice a banner blowing in the wind. Bright pink lettering painted across the white canvas. What the hell is that?

  Harlow Needs More Dick- Send Pics If you’re DTF!

  Below is my cell number, which explains all the incoming texts. The letters are so bright you couldn’t miss them if you tried.

  Joy. Another stunt from the Bishops. I should've known things would go from bad to worse.

  “Like, oh my god, its Harlow the whore in the flesh,” a girl sneers from a few feet away. I look up and see it’s one of the groupies from the other night. The one that was crawling all over Oliver, or maybe it was Banks I don’t remember, and I don’t really care. Her name’s Tiffany, that's all I know.

  I tell myself to look away, to push my feelings down, swallow my pride, and turn the other cheek but I can’t help myself. Like bile rising up my throat, the anger, and red-hot rage burns through me, and I find myself crossing the distance that separates us without thought.

  “Did you do this?” I growl, pointing to the banner behind her.

  She shrugs, purses her lips, and juts her hip out looking at me like I’m a peasant and she is the queen. To think that I used to be treated like a queen. If only she knew where I came from, the power I used to have, the power I no longer care to have.

  “Maybe. Maybe not? Why’s it matter? Last I heard if you can handle three you can handle them all.” Laughter bubbles out of her, and the girl standing beside her. She looks familiar too, but my bone isn’t with her, it’s with her friend.

  She thinks she’s perfect with her platinum blonde hair, and painted on face, but she’s just like the rest, a snotty bitch. My hands curl into fists, my nails digging into my palm.

  “What are you going to do if I did?” She narrows her gaze and taunts me with a shit eating grin on her lips. I've endured enough bullshit. I came here to escape, to get away from the pain, the drama, but it seems it just followed me and I’m done, so done.

  I react without thought pouncing on her like a cat. I pull back my fist and slug her in the face. Pain radiates up my arm while a scream that sounds like I’m murdering her pours from her lips. We scuffle across the grass, her fingers digging into my hair, pulling at the strands, causing a burning pain to flare across my scalp.

  Bitch. I do the same, and when she starts to shriek like a pig, her arms flailing and her hands landing anywhere they can, I smile, feeling completely satisfied with myself.

  “Harlow!” Caroline is grabbing onto my shoulders, and pulling me back, but not before I land another punch on the bitch’s nose. Chest heaving, and heart racing I take a step back and look at the girl lying on the grass, droplets of blood dribbling down from one of her nostrils.

  “You're trash. Nothing but a trashy whore,” Tiffany snarls, shoving up off the grass. I smooth a hand over my hair and down the front of my jeans. By now a crowd has gathered around us, and I fully expect to be called into the dean's office for this little stunt. Whatever the punishment, it'll be worth it.

  “I know what she did was wrong, but you can't just go around beating people up,” Caroline scolds while shaking her head, sending strands of her dark hair across her panicked face. Shit, I know she's right but, god that felt good. Caroline starts pulling me away from the crowd and I follow her gladly, ready to get away from the gawking audience.

  “Well, look who it is,” a familiar voice hisses and it has me stopping mid step. “Can’t get enough attention, can you?”

  I turn and find Sullivan, Oliver, and Banks staring at me. Sullivan looks unimpressed with my little stunt. Banks has a stupid grin on his face that I would like to wipe off with my fist. And Oliver casts nothing but a cold glare my way. I know I should just walk away, I have already made the target on my back bigger by fighting Tiffany like this.

  Unfortunately, my anger gets the better of me and before I can get a grip on it, words are pouring out of my mouth.

  “I hope you’re happy,” I spit at them. “I’m guessing you had something to do with this?” I point at the banner.

  “It’s not our fault that you're such a slut,” Banks says, and I see red. Like a bull I charge him, pushing his chest so hard he stumbles back a few steps.

  “You are just making this worse for yourself,” Oliver sneers.

  “All you had to do was let me explain!”

  “We are done listening to your lies, Harlow. You made your bed, now it’s time to lay in it,” Sullivan growls, his voice sinister.

  For a moment I just stand there looking at them, trying to see the men who kissed me just a few days ago, the guys who held me and made me feel safe. I search for that compassion deep in their eyes, but all I see now are guys who hate me and want to hurt me.

  “Harlow, we should probably…” Caroline places a hand on my shoulder.

  “Yes, we should,” I whisper. We walk away from the crowd with me trying to ignore the nasty looks and condescending murmurs following me.

  “It’s going to be okay, Harlow,” Caroline says, “We’ll figure this out.”

  “I wish that was true.” Oh god, I hope she is right. Is everything going to be okay? Can I figure this out? Or is this going to be my life from now on?

  Caroline walks me to my dorm. She asks me repeatedly if I’m okay and I give her the same answer, “yeah, I’m fine.” She wanted to come up and watch a movie, probably thinking she would be able to take my mind off this whole thing, but I know there is no hope, so I send her home.

  My room is empty when I walk through the door. Shelby is gone again and when the realization I am alone hits me, I break. I crumble to the floor like a rag doll, covering my face with my hands as I let it all out.

  All I wanted was to escape but it seems I've traded one prison for another, the only difference is this time my heart is paying the price.

  ◆◆◆

  The next day goes just as badly, maybe even worse. I can't go anywhere without people looking at me like I’m a piece of shit. Sneers, laughter, and shitty remarks follow me wherever I go. Ignoring my surroundings is getting harder and harder to do.

  I try to keep my head down and in one of my books, but my mind keeps wandering to the Bishops. I can’t get over the way they looked at me. I’m so angry at them, for refusing to let me talk, for further embarrassing me in front of everyone, but I'm hurt at the same time. My heart a bleeding mess because for some reason I thought maybe they cared, that maybe they loved me.

  Stupid, so stupid.

  This all could've been avoided if they would've they just let me explain.

  As I’m walking to my next class across the west side of campus, I notice two guys walking in my direction. Even though my gaze is on the ground I can still see two dimpled grins forming on their lips and I just know they are going to make a comment about me when they pass. Everyone else has, so I don't expect them to be any different.

  Grabbing on to the strap of my backpack, I mentally prepare myself for the verbal assault that's to come, but as they pass neither says so much as one word. And it’s then that I learn there are far worse things that can be done then spouting nonsense.

  Instead one of them does something worse, he grabs my ass. The jerk grabs my ass, his meaty fingers sinking firmly into the fabric of my jeans. Then he squeezes, hard.

  Yelping, I whirl around, my fists clenched, and nostrils flaring, “What the hell is wrong with you?” I grit out through my teeth.

  “What? Not kinky enough for you? You need something better?” He grabs onto his junk and shakes it a little bit before releasing a chuckle into the air.

  He moves away, following his friend who is a couple steps ahead, also smiling and laughing. Assholes. They're both lucky they walked away. I would've kicked their asses if I had to.

  It’s not until I make it to the classroom that I realize I’m shaking. I’m not sure if it’s from anger alone or if I’m a little shook up from that guy grabbing me. My emotions are so out of control it’s hard to pinpoint thei
r origin.

  Sinking down into the chair, I start to unpack my books and notepad. This is the class I normally have with Banks, but I don't expect him to show up. That’s why I’m shocked when I look up and see him walking into the room.

  Like magnets drawn to each other, his eyes find mine immediately. For the shortest moment I think he is happy to see me, a smile ghosting his lips, then as if he remembers where we are, his face turns to stone. With a mask carefully placed over his features, he walks in and takes a seat two rows in front of me. My heart starts to beat wildly, my throat tightening, and my chest aching.

  Seeing him is torture, especially right now when all I want to do is run up to him and bury my face in his chest and inhale his sweet scent. I feel weak for needing him and it feels so wrong that I still want him like I do.

  Taking a deep breath, I try to shake the unwanted thought away. Just when I get my heart rate back under control, and my chest stops heaving, someone else walks in. Tiffany. Shit, I forgot she was in this class too. Guess I should think about who I share classes with before I decide to throw down with them.

  She lifts up her nose and struts through the room like it’s her own personal runway, and I hope someone would put a foot out so I can watch her tumble to the ground. Naturally she takes the seat beside Banks, who of course puts his arm across the back of the chair. Exhaling I grit my teeth together.

  I tell myself it doesn’t matter, she doesn’t, he doesn’t, but that would be so much easier if I could actually believe what I’m telling myself. Peering at me over her shoulder, she gives me a smug smile, like she won something, and I can’t help but appreciate the way her smile is a bit uneven. She might have been able to cover up the blue and black skin with makeup, but she can’t cover up that her cheek is still swollen from where I punched her. I had expected to get into some kind of trouble, but it never happened.

  I don’t know if that’s because of the Bishops or if Tiffany’s just worried that I’ll kick her ass again if she says something.