Rebel: Enemies to Lovers Bully Romance

by Savannah Rose

“You don’t understand.”

  “You’re right. Shit! You’re so right. I don’t understand. I gotta go.”

  “Where are you going?” There’s mild panic in her voice and I know I shouldn’t be so hard on her, but this happens every time we talk about Rick.

  Every single time.

  “Out,” I snap.

  “With Cain?” she asks.

  “Yes.”

  “Kace-”

  “I’ll see you later, mom.” I cut her off and walk out of her room.

  Usually, we can agree on everything, but whenever she tries to defend Rick while lying in her bed paralyzed because of him, my respect for her dwindles just a little.

  I know where I stand with Rick. He’s never wanted the boy who wanted to be a doctor for a son, and he made sure I knew it. Cain was his golden boy. A really rotten piece of work with no respect for women or himself, capable of loving only Rick. The perfect protege.

  I despise Cain, but I’d still save his life if he needed me to. He is the way he is because that’s what Rick taught him. He’s my brother and I want to kill him most days, but in my heart, I know I never could.

  I’d fucking push Rick off a cliff for free and not so much as bat an eye.

  Worthless piece of shit.

  “Let’s go,” I growl at Cain, and Gabriel who are in the den when I get there.

  “How’s Abby?” Gabe asks.

  “She’s fine. Let’s go. Now.”

  Both their brows arch up as they shoot me sideways glances. “You giving orders now?” Cain snorts.

  “Weren’t you gonna beat me unconscious for being late before you almost killed our baby sister?” I shoot him a dead stare with my swollen face drawn into as much of a scowl as I can manage.

  He snarls and rolls his eyes before picking up a Glock and throwing it over to me.

  “Carry this since you feel like a hotshot.”

  I tuck the piece into my waist without saying a word and I can see Cain eyeing me up and down. “Looks like I need to beat your ass more often. You’re finally starting to act like a man.”

  “Shut up, Cain. Let’s just get the fuck out of here,” I snap, and I see him reach for his piece, so I draw mine too and we’re standing face to face, both of us staring down the barrels of fully loaded guns.

  “The way I’m feeling right now, Cain, don’t fucking tempt me. Let. Us. Go.” I growl through gritted teeth, staring him down with visions of blood in my eyes.

  “Y’all been actin’ like bitches all morning. Put the guns away.” Gabriel chuckles and I put away my piece only after Cain does.

  Correction.

  I suppose under the right circumstances, I’d push Cain over a cliff too.

  7

  Janey

  Today was unusually difficult. After Kace dropped his bombshell in my lap and took off, my mind went to work trying to solve a problem that was none of my business and that Kace had repeatedly told me to stay out of.

  I get the strange feeling that his warning usually works with everybody and that’s a huge part of the problem. He’s managed to isolate himself so well this year that nobody else around him knows how much he’s hurting.

  That’s such a shame.

  I don’t care what he says...if I can, I’d like to help.

  Somebody needs to help.

  Kace was always an academic rival even without trying too hard to be. Without knowing it, his grades would push me to study harder, to be better and to stretch myself. Now he’s barely present and when he is, it is obvious that he doesn’t want to be. How did he just get written off as a delinquent so easily by everyone else?

  I remember sitting behind Kace in Physics for a year. He’d get straight As every single time, but he’d crumple the paper up and throw away the evidence of his success. I’ve never understood that...I still don’t, but something tells me it has something to do with that dreadful Kensington place. Has he always lived there, or did his grades start to slip after he moved? I’d hate to think that if it were me, all my efforts from the past would be cast aside and I’d become Janey Bradshaw, the bum with no future whose every effort is spent making sure she amounts to nothing.

  I have so many questions and I don’t know who to ask them. I don’t think I can bear to be insulted by Kace again for the rest of the week. He didn’t return today, but I don’t know if I can face him tomorrow. Not yet. God, I’m not even sure why I do this to myself. My sister always says I have a hard time letting go of broken things. Maybe she’s right.

  In the parking lot, I’m so lost in my thoughts that I don’t notice the difference in my car, not until I’m tucked away in the front seat, feeling like I’m on a roller coaster, my Hyundai dipping back and a little to the right. At first, I chart it off to my mind playing tricks on me. It’s been a heck of a past few days, after all. But when still, after two deep breaths, everything seems wonky, I exit the car and lo and behold it is a little off kilter. I walk around, checking the front tire and then the back and finally find the culprit. The entire damn thing is a mess and not the kind of mess that would be caused from me running over a shard of glass or a loose nail. No, this was done intentionally. Long slashes through the rubber boast the vengeance of someone’s hard work.

  I sigh and lean my back against the cool metal. Somehow, it’s not really anger that I feel. Strange, I know. But only someone who’s hurting, only someone who’s craving attention would do something like this. I don’t have to do too much mental searching to come up with a culprit. There’s only one person in this whole damn school who gets a kick out of tormenting me. Okay, maybe that’s not a hundred percent true. Kace’s not really looking to pick a fight. If anything, this is a warning – just like all the other warnings – to stay the fuck away from him.

  I pop the trunk and pull out the spare, getting to work on changing the tire. Lucky for me, a few of the teachers who were lingering behind, appear at just the moment where I’m puzzled about where what goes and how exactly to put what where. Mr. Franks rolls up the sleeves of his baby blue button-up.

  “I’m surprised you made it all the way to school on this,” he says. I don’t correct him. The fact that the damage was done on the school compound is something I’m prepared to keep to myself. Kace is evidently trying to get kicked out and I’m not the one who’s going to put the nail in his coffin. I’ve heard his cry for help and I’ll raise him a tissue.

  It takes another half an hour for Mr. Franks to get my car back into working order. I thank him for his help and promise to pay more attention to what I’m driving over. We laugh about it for a minute and I listen through one of his stories about getting his motorcycle wrapped up in barbed wire after he cut through a ‘no trespassing’ field and then I’m on my way.

  As I drive my Hyundai along South 22nd Street heading to Rittenhouse Square, I’m overcome by feelings of unreasonable guilt. I know that even if my family were to become immensely poor, it wouldn’t change things for Kace. But here I am, driving past the high rises and the lovely parks, feeling like an over entitled princess.

  How can two places in the same State be so different?

  The ride from Kensington back to school wasn’t that long, which can only mean that it isn’t all that far away, so how can it be so different? I still get bewildered just thinking about the things I saw there. What would happen to my nerves if I had to see that place every day for the rest of my life?

  As I turn onto our street, I fish the garage remote from my glove compartment. With a heavy sigh, I recall the decrepit nature of the buildings and wonder how many car owners live there. I imagine the average person walks everywhere, which means they’re forced to actually take the scenic route every day.

  This is one of those things that I hope is worse in my mind than it is in reality, though I don’t think my imagination is extensive enough to cover the kind of suffering that happens daily in a place like that.

  Our house is beautiful, well-furnished and properly maintained...by comparison
it seems too much. That’s probably because it is. I’m sure my house is one of the most sought-after places on this street. Though that’s never meant much to me. A huge house is a great place to hide dark and dirty secrets and Lord knows, my house is brimming with painful secrets.

  I don’t think we’re special that way. There are many large houses on this entire street belonging to families that have great lives in one circle and are falling apart in others. It’s ridiculous to judge how a person is doing just by looking at them, especially when they have an enormous house to hide behind.

  It’s the emptiness that gets to me. The kind of emptiness that has nothing to do with how many people or how many things my mother can manage to stuff into each room. This emptiness follows me around everywhere. It’s the kind that pulls up a chair at dinner and sets the table for lunch.

  When I leave for college next year, my parents will officially be empty nesters and I’m sure they won’t be able to tell the difference. Cori and Jason had moved out the first chance they got, and they hardly come by to visit anymore, leaving me to deal with Steve and Allison Bradshaw on my own.

  Dad and I are great. We understand each other.

  My mother, on the other hand, does not understand me at all. I’m sure she thinks I was switched at birth and I wish that were true, but there are subtle similarities in our features that she will never admit exist, features that tell a different story.

  Allison Bradshaw was once a prima ballerina, but her career came to an end after she broke her ankle. The suffering of not being able to live her dream through to the end turned her into a bitter brute. She had hoped to pass on her dance genes to her daughters, but both Cori and I were raging disappointments. Cori played football in high school and I’ve never cared much about that art form.

  I think I hurt her more because I actually love the performing arts, just not dancing. She hates it and, by extension, she hates me for it. I’m sure she wishes Dani was still with us. She was definitely set to be a dancer from the traces of her I can still remember. Traces that have been eradicated from our house, wiped clean from every photo album.

  Steve Bradshaw is my hero, though. And possibly my best friend. For one, he knows how to deal with my mother and often comes to my rescue, but that’s just who he is. He’s a prominent Defense Attorney with a track record of rescuing those who would otherwise self-destruct. Giving them a much needed second chance at life. I like to joke that I got my father’s heart and my mother’s eyes.

  However, despite my father having the heart of an angel and the bravery of a Titan warrior, I still don’t think he’d approve of me venturing down into the belly of the beast, to “interfere” with Kace’s life.

  I shut the engine off and punch in the code to the elevator in the garage.

  I enter the house to find Allison on the phone, sprawled out on the sofa, getting a pedicure from Manuel, her nail technician.

  “Hey,” I mumble and Manuel glances up and grins at me.

  As expected, my mother doesn’t bother to answer. I continue across the room, taking the stairs to the third floor, into my room.

  I stopped using the elevator inside the house when I was about six years old and it took a while for me to accept that if I ever wanted to drive, I would have to take the elevator from the garage up to the first floor.

  When I open my bedroom door, I can tell that Isabelle has been here. My room is spotless and I’m grateful. Something needs to keep me grounded in the midst of my mental chaos and a clean space always seems to do the trick.

  My phone rings as I’m about to enter my studio. It’s dad.

  “Hi!” I chirp, happy to hear from him. He’s been preparing for a big case all week and I feel like I haven’t seen him in ages.

  “How’s my favorite kiddo?”

  “You’re not supposed to have favorites, dad!” I giggle and I can hear him chuckle.

  “Well, I do,” he says.

  “I’m sure you say that to all your kiddos.”

  “I will neither confirm nor deny that statement.”

  “When are you coming home, dad?” I ask, miserably missing him.

  He sighs heavily, just like he usually does when he’s not about to make things better. “I’m home every night, Janey,” he says, but the tone in his voice tells me that he knows that’s not what I mean.

  I wonder if Kace’s dad comes home every night. I hope so.

  I don’t want to give dad too much of a hard time, so I go for something less accusatory. “How’s the case prep going?”

  “The evidence is coming together, and we have a few credible witnesses.”

  “Think you’ll win?”

  “Janey,” he chuckles, silently correcting me.

  “Sorry. Do you think justice will be served?”

  “It usually is. Yes.”

  “I miss you daddy,” I confess, unable to keep the petulance out of my voice.

  “Come by the office later, after you’re done with work,” he offers, and I can already feel my spirits rising.

  “Okay. I’m actually home now. Came by to feed the dogs.”

  “Your mother…” he starts, but doesn’t complete the statement with what we both know would be a lie.

  “Yeah we all know my mother would probably starve them.”

  I roll my eyes and change my shoes before heading down to the animal den.

  Midnight and Jazz are both perfectly house-trained Labs who tend to forget that when they get hungry. After getting into a fight with Allison one day after I saw her hit Jazz, I decided that I’d feed them myself. They’re picky eaters and only Bradshaws can actually feed them.

  Strange, spoilt doggos.

  “I’ll come by after my shift. There’s actually something I want to talk to you about.”

  He sounds intrigued but we’re interrupted by his assistant and wind up having to end the call. I flop down on the bed and take a minute to readjust before tending to the dogs. Seeing as my mom’s home, I decide that there’s not reason for me to be.

  No reason to have her wonder what Dani would look like when she grew up. No reason to see the look in her eyes when she looks at me, so intensely and still doesn’t see me at all. I’m not the one she wanted to survive, and I get that. Still, what happened to Dani wasn’t my fault.

  At least not entirely.

  8

  Janey

  I’m pretty sure my mother doesn’t hear me leave. Manuel, on the other hand, isn’t shy about waving me goodbye. No matter how many times I go unnoticed by her, I still feel the sting deep in the hollows of my heart.

  I’ll live.

  I’m on my way to the animal clinic, where I’ve managed to secure a job that warms both my heart and my soul. There’s something about the purity of animals that sort of makes it feel like the world is right again.

  As I hit the highway, I decide to call my sister. Cori picks up on the second ring, which isn’t the least bit normal, not that I’m complaining.

  “Midget!” she chirps into the phone.

  “I’m still just an inch below you, Cori,” I laugh.

  “What’s up kiddo?”

  “Also, I’m a whole adult now.”

  “We’ll revisit that when you break out of Shawshank.”

  I can’t argue with that.

  “So what’s new?” Cori asks, smacking her gum in my ear.

  “Are you still on tour?”

  “Yep. We’re in Cali for the next two days. Last night’s show was great.”

  “Have you told dad yet?”

  Cori snorts and I know that’s a big, fat no.

  Cori left home on a football scholarship to study medicine and somehow didn’t make it through the first semester before she realized that the whole all-night all-day study train, no social life thing was not for her.

  She discovered her hidden talent after her boyfriend discovered her at a party and they’ve been on the road ever since. I’m not sure how much longer she thinks she can keep this a secret,
but I’m not going to be the one who outs her.

  She’s only two years older than I am, but she’s so much braver than me. She’s already changed so much as a person. Not just emotionally, or mentally, but physically too. And perhaps it’s those physical changes that are the most remarkable. I’m super positive that if she were to walk into our house and sit at the dinner table, it would take both my parents a while to even recognize her.

  Her once brown hair is now a very shocking blue with black roots and that’s just this month. Last month it was an obnoxious pink and teal mix that confused me, but made her very happy. She’s also pierced her nose in two places and has a rod going straight through her tongue.

  “Have you decided to go public with any of your pieces?” she asks, and I tense.

  “No.”

  “Oh, Janey come on, babe. You can’t keep living your life being a shadow of yourself. You’ve got too much going for you to keep pretending that you’re as bland as that unseasoned tofu crap you like to eat.”

  I can’t help but laugh. I know she means well, even if she’s being a jerk.

  “Well, I’m working on a few pieces. I started composing a few weeks ago and it’s almost done.” I’m proud of my progress, even if no one ever hears my song.

  “You should totes send me your demo.”

  “Absolutely not,” I protest.

  “Janey!”

  “But I’ll send you the portrait I did of you.” I smile knowing that would do the trick.

  “You did a portrait of Moi? Really? Colored or black and white?”

  I smile and roll my eyes, even though she can’t see me. “Colored, of course.”

  She shrieks and I have to move the phone away from my ear. “Wait, what color did you make my hair?”

  “Blue and black.”

  “Oh honey no, that was so last week. It’s maroon and gold now. Ethan loves it.”

  “How is Ethan?” I ask and she sighs.

  “He’s fine. Busy all the time, but fine.”

  “Sounds like you found the Rockstar version of dad.”