by Amity Cross
“We both work in publishing, Jade,” she said, forcing back her laughter. “Like I wouldn’t find out.”
I’d never thought I was capable of completely snapping. I’d read books where the main characters would break apart and explode their emotions all over the place. Flipping tables and breaking mirrors kind of messy. In Alexis Storm’s last release, Fighting Desire, the hero was driven to breaking point by the bad guys looking to tear him down, and he went on a rampage, unable to stop until the heroine turned up and calmed the raging beast inside him. Except there was no one here to settle the hurricane that was brewing in my heart. The only person who probably could was Ryan, and he didn’t want anything to do with me.
So, I pretty much exploded. And boy, was that shit messy.
“I’ve had enough of your bullshit,” I exclaimed, rising to my feet.
“Excuse me?” Margaret placed her hand over her heart like I’d mortally wounded her upper-class, false do-gooder mentality.
“Don’t play the victim, Margaret,” I snapped. “We all know you’re the biggest bitch of the century. You gossip about everyone, tear apart their reputations, and spread nasty falsehoods all because you’ve decided they looked at you funny that one time. Don’t even get me started on the shit you’ve said behind my back. You’re not as clever as you think you are. You’re nothing but a cold, heartless moron, who will never be content with what she has. You only give a fuck about taking from others so you feel better about the fact that no one loves you.”
The entire restaurant seemed to fall silent, or it could’ve been the bubble of rage that had just inflated around me, but no sound permeated our table. Margaret stared at me, her expression cold, and Belinda and Heather looked utterly scandalized. For a full minute, no one said anything, let alone moved.
“Well,” Margaret finally declared, dabbing the napkin at the corners of her mouth. “Are you quite finished?” Not waiting for me to respond, she looked me straight in the eye and said, “When will you admit to yourself you have a problem, Jade?”
“My problem was that I fell for fake bitches and the fake shit they were selling. Fake bitches like you,” I replied without missing a beat.
“Oh, Jade,” she said in a quiet voice. “Don’t you see? You’re the fakest of us all.”
“The difference between you and me…” I stared her down, my lip curling. “Is that I work for everything I have.”
“Had,” she said, snarling. “Or have you forgotten your fiancé cheated, and you lost your precious job. I can’t see that you have anything. Lashing out is not going to do you any good.”
“I think it was past due, don’t you? You knew Hunter was cheating on me months before I found out. I overheard the things you said to them.” I jabbed a finger at Belinda and Heather, who’d fallen silent like the lambs to the slaughter they were. “You went after Ryan, knowing full well I cared about him. I would never have done those things to you. Friends don’t drag friends down. They’re supposed to help them, not laugh behind their backs when they’re on hard times.”
Margaret stared at me, her lips pursed. She looked like she was about to blow, but she still clung onto the facade she’d built around her rotten, jealous heart. She ruled with fear, and by standing up to her, I was threatening her very reputation.
“You’ll regret this,” she said with a hiss, finally breaking her silence.
“You’ve spent your life putting people down because it makes you feel better about the fact you’re mediocre,” I went on, ignoring her threat. “You bullshit your way through life, sliding by with your looks and money. I know the only reason your clients do well is because you buy thousands of copies with your husband’s money to bump up your numbers. What would your boss say when he finds out? Superstar Margaret is nothing but a fraud.”
“You wouldn’t!” she exclaimed.
“That’s the difference between you and me, Margaret…” I snatched up my bag, then picked up a serviette and claimed a macaroon for the road. “I wouldn’t.” Glancing at the other two women at the table, I nodded. “Belinda. Heather. Go choke on a giant cock.”
Stalking across the restaurant, I held my head high. Fuck, that felt good.
Reaching for the door handle, I gasped as a hand with perfectly manicured nails weighed down with a huge-ass diamond, slapped on the door, barring my way.
“I wouldn’t be congratulating yourself just yet,” Margaret said.
Glancing up, the sight of my one-time best friend made me sick. “Look who’s come to threaten me out of earshot of her precious followers. I’ve quit your cult for good, so anything you’ve got to say is empty. I’m done.” Grasping the door handle, I wrenched it toward me, but Margaret pushed it closed again.
“You’re right about a lot of things, Jade, but dead wrong about the most important. You think you’re untouchable just because you’ve had a single moment that you decided is a victory against the big bad world. Well, I’m here to tell you it’s my life’s mission to ruin you.” She smiled sweetly and held up her phone.
The adrenaline in my veins began to drop and a sickly sheen of sweat beaded on my forehead. I was going to pass out.
On the screen was a photograph of me, sleeping in Hunter’s car. Hunter’s car that I’d stolen. I’d returned it the next morning, but I’d stolen it all the same. Humiliation flooded my cheeks. How the mighty had fallen.
“But it was only one night…” I muttered. “Hunter left me high and dry… I… I had nowhere to stay.”
“Like that matters,” Margaret said with a sickly sweet smile. “All people will care about is this photo. Nothing you’ve ever said or done before or after will matter. Everyone will see this, and they will never want to hire you again. Seriously, who wants someone representing their brand when their home is their ex-fiancé’s stolen car? Like literally their home.” She laughed, completely confident she’d trumped me.
She’d won. I couldn’t explain this. Everything was gone now. I’d lost it all.
“Why?” I whispered. “What did I ever do to you?”
Margaret laughed and flicked her hair. “Why? Because I’ve decided you’re no good to me anymore. You’re living at a budget hotel, was fired from your job, your fiancé was using you, and you were too stupid to notice he’d been fucking half of Melbourne behind your back for… How long was it? Well over a year. And in your bed, no less.” She made a face. “Imagine… You were sleeping in their come stains all that time. Disgusting.”
“Some friend you are,” I said angrily, fighting back the torrent of tears that would claim me the moment I fled. “You could’ve helped me, but like the snake you are, you spread false gossip behind my back and blackmail me. What’s wrong with you? Are you jealous? Of what? You’re the one who has everything she ever wanted.”
“You’re such a hater, Jade,” she said, looking down her nose at me. “You’re the one who’s crying foul just because you can’t have what you want. All of this is your own fault, you know. The truth always outs in the end.”
“Whatever helps you become the martyr, right? Fake always outs in the end.” I rolled my eyes, my throat burning. “You want to destroy me because I didn’t fall at your feet and treat you like the center of the universe. Get a fucking grip, Margaret. The world doesn’t revolve around you. Shit, it doesn’t revolve around anyone. Grow the fuck up.”
She snorted and glanced back at the restaurant. “Good luck on the streets, Jade. I hear you can get quality cardboard out of a dumpster at the back of a supermarket. You’re going to need it for winter.” Plastering a sickly smile on her face, she stared at me as she called out to Belinda and Heather. “Don’t you just love it when the trash takes itself out?”
I was frozen, unable to run. I just stood there and let her stomp on my heart.
“By the way,” she added, gearing up to deliver the kill shot. “I fucked Hunter at your engagement party.”
Completely mortified, I fled, pushing through the door and scurrying outside.<
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Ripped apart, humiliated, heartbroken, and alone, I stared up at the Melbourne skyline and barely made it a step before the first tears began to fall.
24
Ryan
The moment Margaret left my place was the moment I forgot about her and got on with life.
She was nothing, and her games…they were less than zero. When I was eighteen, I couldn’t wait to get out of high school, but it seemed high school never ended. Humans were a fucked-up lot when it came to jealousy. Jade obviously had qualities Margaret wanted but couldn’t have. Instead of making the most out of her rich bitch life, she lashed out.
Went to show that money didn’t always equal happiness. If it ever did beyond the stability of a roof over your head.
I was lying on my back on a bench press at Pulse, waiting for Cole to finish fixing the weights on the bar. It was his turn to spot as I pressed. Today, as my best mate called it, was man titty Tuesday.
“Go up five kilos,” Ash said, overseeing our progress. “Get a bit more definition happening in your chest.”
“Pump up those man titties!” Cole chortled, much to our amusement. “We’ll have to tape them down before long.”
“Shut it,” I said grumbling.
“Ash!” The sound of Ren, Ash’s wife’s, voice bellowing across the gym caused all our heads to turn. “Phone!”
Ash swatted his hand toward her and scowled. “Ah! Damn woman,” he muttered. “How many times do I have to tell her to use her inside voice?” To us, he said, “Keep going. I’ll be back.”
Cole spotted me as I curled my hands around the bar and lifted the barbell off the stand. Letting it rest just above my chest, I concentrated my breathing and lifted. My muscles contracted, and I relished the pressure as I pushed upward. One. More weight felt good.
“Margaret hasn’t been back for a few days,” Cole said, fishing for gossip like an old woman.
“Didn’t rate a mention.” I grunted, lifting the barbell again. Two.
“She was coming on to you pretty hard,” he went on, his hands rising and falling with every press I did.
“She was barking up the wrong tree,” I said with a scowl.
“Really? I thought you would’ve tapped that after—”
“Shut it, Cole.”
“Bloody hell,” he cursed. “Just asking. No need to get your man tits in a twist.”
“Fucked if I could do that to Jade.”
“Even after she used you?” He let out a slow whistle. “You’re a bigger man than I am.”
Sucking in a breath and holding the barbell steady, I said, “I thought we determined that years ago.”
He rolled his eyes and gestured for me to lift again. “You’re attracting more drama than a fourteen-year-old girl lately.”
I considered telling him about Margaret’s home visit the other night and decided against it for a second before I spat it out. Cole and I had been best mates for something like twelve years, and even though he could be an immature ass, he still had my back if I asked. Vice versa, too.
“Margaret turned up at my place the other night,” I said through gritted teeth as I lifted that barbell again. “Uninvited.”
“No shit!”
“Pushed her way inside and stripped down to her knickers.”
His eyes widened. “No shit!” he exclaimed again.
“She was fake as,” I said. “Told me I could do whatever I wanted. I reckon the moment it came down to anal versus fisting, she would’ve run.”
“Dude,” he said, screwing up his face. “You’re into fisting?”
“No,” I said, making a similar face. “Point is, her showing up and rubbing her tits in my face had manipulation written all over it. You know what she was like back in school. Hasn’t changed and now she’s got some scheme cooking.”
“A scheme where you get to fuck Margaret Anastas?” Cole raised an eyebrow. Clearly, he didn’t see the problem. All he was worried about was the fact I’d turned down a free fuck.
“She was like a bit of plastic grinding her rubbery pussy on my lap. Didn’t even get me hard. Her tits were like two rocks scraping against my face.”
Cole snorted. “You can get rubber pussies online. Full on lips and everything. No bitch needed.”
Rolling my eyes, I lifted the barbell back onto the rack while Cole guided it. He was such a crass bastard. I was gunning for the day he had his cock in a twist over some woman. Chaos. Utter chaos.
“I’m pretty sure she’s going after Jade,” I said, sitting up. “There’s no other reason she’d want to slum it on my dick.”
“So? You kicked Jade out, bro. Why get all protective over a bird who used your feelings against you? She should’ve been clear about what she wanted before going that far. Even I know there’s a fine line between fuck and feelings.”
“Yeah, I suppose you’re right.” I grunted, the conversation doing nothing to beat the longing out of me.
Picking up my towel, I dabbed my forehead, anything not to look at him right then. Otherwise, he would see I was lying through my teeth. I’d pretty much declared to Margaret I was in love with Jade regardless of what had happened between us. I’d hit her where it hurt, fueled her fires of hatred and given her ammunition to boot. There was no way Margaret was not going after Jade.
Maybe Cole was right. Maybe I was reading too much into things, and I should stay the course of moving on. But what if—
“Ryan!” Ash bellowed across the gym.
“What was he saying about inside voices?” Cole asked with a smirk as our coach came bounding across the mats.
Ash slapped me on the shoulder, grinning from ear to ear. “You got your fight,” he said. “Two weeks, Ry. Rod Laver Arena, AUFC 54. You’re in.”
“I’m in?” I stared up at him half in disbelief, half in shock. After waiting so long, I was finally getting my shot. This was it. This was make or break. “Who am I fighting?”
“Peter Markov.”
“Markov?” I asked. “But he pulled out of the AUFC, didn’t he?”
Markov qualified around the same time I had but had pretty much disappeared soon after. If I was going to be paired with anyone, it would be that guy. We were similar heights, there was a minimal weight difference, and our skill level was on par.
“He was dropped when he was injured in training,” Ash explained. “That’s why there was no one for you to fight. He was benched until he was cleared.”
“Shit,” I cursed. So it wasn’t to do with me, it was the other guy.
“They want you in,” he went on. “They’ve always wanted you on the roster, mate, it’s just they were waiting for a good pairing. You would steamroll all of the recent qualifiers. It would be too easy for you.”
“Like that would be bad.”
“A good fight is a fair fight. Do you want to win against a pansy-ass fucker? Or do you want to win against a tough son of a bitch?”
“Tough son of a bitch,” I replied, seeing the point. Winning an easy battle didn’t mean much, but when you triumphed over greater odds, the win would be much more satisfying.
“That’s the way,” Ash exclaimed, clapping me on the shoulder and practically shaking me in his excitement. It was a big deal, both for my fighting and his coaching career. “C’mon, we’ve got a lot of work to do. Cole.” He gestured for him to follow. “Here’s your chance to skip ahead before your qualifier.”
“I got a qualifier?” he asked, scurrying along behind us. “No shit!”
Elbowing my best made, I grinned. “Things are finally happening. This is it, dude. The big leagues.”
“About fucking time,” he grumbled.
“Faith,” I said. “Didn’t I tell you? And with your qualifier, you’re next.”
“Lucky I’m welterweight, and you’re middleweight,” he said with a grin. “I don’t think you could handle losing to me.”
“In your dreams.” I slapped him on the back of the head, my palm cracking against his empty skull.
I was going to go all the fucking way, and nothing, not even my fickle heart, was going to get in my way.
25
Jade
Sitting on the edge of the squeaky bed I was now calling home for the next who knew how long, I scrolled through my phone, my heart sinking further and further.
The backpacker hostel in the heart of the Melbourne CBD was quick to take my money for the single room, shared bathroom on a week-to-week basis. Considering I was having zero luck getting approved for my own apartment now I was unemployed, I was quick to give it to them. I wasn’t quite at the twelve-bed shared dormitory level yet, but it was getting that way.
I had a plastic tub with my name on it in the ragged kitchen in the basement, I had some spare gold coins for the washer-dryer, and my suitcase had become my wardrobe.
Last night, I’d eaten a Styrofoam cup of instant noodles while sharing a table with a pair of eighteen-year-old girls from Croatia, a dreadlocked hippy from America, and a couple in their early twenties from the UK. Then after being kept awake by hordes of drunken gap-year kids coming in from their night on the town, this morning I’d showered in a stall while wearing a pair of flip-flops to protect my feet from getting a million warts.
One thing I’d learned was European women weren’t embarrassed about being completely starkers around other women they didn’t know. They would have the whole ‘getting to know you’ conversation while everything hung out. I was so not European.
Studying my contact list, I knew I had to at least try to put some feelers out, despite knowing the photo Margaret had of me in Hunter’s car had probably already done the rounds. I couldn’t let this beat me.