No Good: A Standalone Enemies to Lovers Romance

by Stevie J. Cole

  I heard Hendrix cussing behind me and turned to see Wolf dragging him out without his shirt, kicking and screaming.

  The distant wail of police sirens sounded, and I snatched my keys from my pocket. “Get in the car, assholes.”

  Wolf let Hendrix go, and he dove through one of the broken back windows while Wolf went to the passenger side.

  When I tugged on the driver’s side handle, the door wouldn’t budge. Thanks to the hulk-sized dent sealing the damn thing shut. “I may actually kill her,” I mumbled, rounding the car. “Fuck her. Then kill her.”

  I shoved Wolf out of the way, then ducked through the passenger-side door, climbed across the console, and sank to the driver’s seat, cranking the engine.

  “At least it starts,” Wolf said.

  I backed out at full speed and floored it down the street. As soon as I got out of Barrington, I texted Drew.

  Me: If your dumbass boyfriend is smart, he’ll play by the rules and not press charges.

  Me: Remind him of that.

  One girl shouldn’t be able to make me so mad. So what if she wanted to screw Bennett? So what if she hated Dayton and hated me? So fucking what if she drove her hundred-thousand-dollar car into my 1988 Honda?

  Medusa: Fuck you. I hope you get arrested and bummed in jail.

  My blood pressure had never been so high. Until that very moment, I had no idea that it could actually spot your vision.

  I tapped across the screen furiously, watching for the red light to change.

  Me: You realize you have anger issues.

  Message not delivered. And then I threw my phone into the floorboard.

  19

  Drew

  Early morning sunlight streamed through the window. And I hadn’t really slept.

  All night I had warred with myself. As much as I wanted to pretend I didn’t care about Bellamy, I evidently did. Why else would the boy drive me to the brink of insanity?

  He used me, made it known, punched my friend in his own house, and then moved onto another girl. Just like that.

  And deep down, in a cold little fissure of my black heart, I was hurt, because Bellamy made me feel like nothing when I had stupidly thought that maybe, just maybe, I was something to him. Of course, me being me, that came out as blind rage and psychopathic behavior, which resulted in two demolished cars.

  The doorbell rang, then rang again. I threw off the covers, slipping into my robe before heading downstairs.

  Through the stained-glass on the door, I could make out the outline of a black T-shirt and dark hair, and I knew it was Bellamy. My chest tightened as I lingered in the foyer, ready to turn away because I had nothing to say to him.

  He pounded over the thick wood. “If you don’t let me in, I’ll break into your house again, Drew.”

  There was a moment where the image of him in my room that night with his hand to my throat cycled through my head, and my body reacted in ways it shouldn’t. Growing hot and needy for his touch. But I quickly snuffed out those feelings. “Was driving into your car not clear enough? Go away. And I took the spare key, so good luck not setting off the alarm.”

  “Unblock my fucking number then.”

  “No! Get out of my life, Bellamy.”

  He needed to before we killed one another.

  A growl came from the other side of the door. “Fine…You wanna be stupid.” He jogged down the steps and disappeared around the bushes.

  Unbelievable, I mumbled to myself on my way into the kitchen.

  The events from the night before played out in my head as I went about the motions of brewing coffee. Just the thought of him kissing that girl’s forehead brought a hint of rage bubbling to the surface. The coffee pot beeped, and I grabbed a mug just as glass shattered in the foyer, followed by the distinct click of a lock. The shrill wail of the alarm pierced my ears. I closed my eyes on a groan because, of course, Bellamy would actually break-in. Why wouldn’t he? Not like he hadn’t before.

  His heavy footsteps came down the hallway. “Where are you?”

  “What the hell is wrong with you?” I turned from the counter as he appeared in the doorway. “Oh, didn’t bring your baseball bat this time?” Why? Why did I have to have a thing for a psycho?

  “Bennett’s friends with Harford?” Stress lined his face, and I didn’t get why.

  I mean, that was it? That was his grand revelation? No shit. Jackson and Max played football together, of course, they were friends.

  “Get out of my house!” I brushed past him, to the alarm keypad in the hallway. The siren silenced.

  “How good of friends are they, Drew?”

  This was why he had broken into my house—I paused for a moment. He’d broken into my house, and I was on my way back into my kitchen for my coffee, like this was completely normal. “Seriously, after everything last night, you broke in, to ask me about Jackson? Get out before I throw a knife at you.”

  “I swear to God, woman.”

  He started across the kitchen, and I clutched my coffee mug, ready to throw it at him. But something about the desperate look in his eyes made me stop. “Why do you care if they’re friends?”

  “Because Harford is a piece of shit.”

  “Of course. He’s Barrington, and we’re all pieces of shit, aren’t we? Get out.”

  “Goddammit, Drew. He’s...” He dragged his hands through his hair. “Fuck, Jackson. Max is a piece of shit, and if you give a shit about Nora, you need to tell her to stay the hell away from him. And so do you. Stay the fuck away from him!”

  Nora? Since when did he give a shit about Nora? Something twisted in my stomach because this seemed so much more than jealousy. “Really, Bellamy? You hate her.”

  Frustration was written all over his face. “I don’t hate her, but even if I did, no girl deserves the shit they do.”

  “Great. Well, I have zero interest in Max. I’ll be sure to tell Nora.”

  He stood in the doorway, glaring at me. Jaw ticcing and nostrils flaring. “And I wouldn’t trust Bennett, either.”

  And there it was, the jealousy he couldn’t hide. Him, Jackson, that girl... it all had my temper bubbling over. I held up my hand. “I’ve known Jackson a damn site longer than you. So, if you’re done, you can go now.”

  “I swear to God, they do anything to you—or Nora,” he backed into the hall. “I will fucking kill them. And that’s a promise, not a threat.” Then he stormed off. Seconds later, my front door opened and closed, and I stood there, completely dumbfounded.

  How far did his jealousy go?

  I was in the living room, watching his car pull off when the house phone rang. The police were checking to see if everything was okay, and while I told them it was, it most definitely was not.

  I cleaned the shards of glass from the foyer floor. Of all the things for Bellamy to come over here for—that bullshit. No, "I’m sorry for being a whore and making it known that I used you” Just lies and bullshit. Typical.

  I dumped the glass into the garbage, took my coffee to the living room, and turned on morning TV that I paid no attention to. Halfway through an episode, I texted Olivia to apologize for making a scene the night before. She didn’t seem bothered, and the only advice she gave me was: Bellamy West is the guy you screw, and as long as I could keep it just that, no harm, no foul.

  No problem there... At least that’s what I told myself.

  I binged watched three hours of Sex and the City before the back door clicked open.

  “What happened to my car?” my dad yelled before the door slammed shut. His heavy footsteps echoed through the house, then stopped. “Drucella! What the hell happened to my car?” He stood in the living room doorway, his face blood red.

  “Uh, about that…” I bit at my lip.

  “I said you could use it for emergencies!”

  “You left for three days. I ran out of Push-Pops. What do you want me to do, starve?” I was definitely going to give the man a heart attack before he hit retirement. “And befo
re you ask, someone hit it in the parking lot.” Someone being Bellamy’s empty car, and parking lot being the street around the corner. Just the thought of it had the burning anger rising again. “Sorry,” I said. I did feel a bit bad for trashing his car, but he had insurance that would pay out. That and he'd been an asshole to me ever since he wouldn’t believe I hadn’t cheated.

  “Sorry? Sor—” He rubbed a hand over his chest. “That is not the damage of someone backing into a car at a grocery store, Drucella.” His face reddened. “That looks like it was sent to a demolition derby!”

  “I don't know what you want me to tell you. I found it like that.”

  “I’m so sure.” he pulled a set of keys from his pocket and tossed them to the sofa. “Your new car is in the drive. I made sure to order one that shouldn’t cause you issues.” He rubbed at his chest again. “Care to tell me why the house got broken into, again?”

  “Well, you did send your daughter into a school full of lowlifes. Might as well just broadcast the fact that you have money and they don’t. They trashed my car. The house got broken into. Twice. Coincidence?” And it was all Bellamy.

  Dad went to the wet bar in the corner of the room, poured a glass of whiskey, downed it, then set his gaze on me. His fists clenched and released before he stopped and inhaled a deep breath. “You will be the death of me...” Probably. He inhaled a deep breath. “I’ve spoken with the school. You’re no longer suspended. You’re going back on Monday.” And then he left the room, taking the entire bottle of whiskey with him.

  This was what my life had come to. I couldn’t even get a proper suspension, never mind expelled.

  An hour later, I stood in the driveway, my backpack slung over one shoulder as I stared at an old, sun-faded Range Rover with chipped paint. My personalized license plate that read: DrewsTT had been attached to the back, mocking me.

  Apparently, my dad was taking the insurance money for the TT and leaving me with this.

  Well, everything else had gone to shit, and now I’d be driving a literal representation of my life. Really, I probably should have seen it coming, given that I’d pushed my dad so far. Still didn’t soften the blow, though.

  The unoiled hinges creaked and groaned when I opened the door and sank behind the wheel. The smell of stale cigarettes and fried chicken lifted from the cracked leather seats. Which gave me horrible flashbacks of my short stint at Frank’s.

  Lowering the windows, I typed Nora’s address into my phone’s Sat Nav, then backed out and followed the directions out of Barrington.

  I eventually turned into one of the rundown neighborhoods nestled between pawn shops and cash payday loan places, and I followed the street until I saw Nora’s car in a driveway at the end of the cul-de-sac.

  Flower boxes decorated the windows, the lawn was actually green, and unlike most of the other houses, the siding on hers wasn’t faded and rotting.

  Nora hadn’t exactly seemed thrilled when I suggested working on our project at her house instead of mine. But since my dad was home— No one needed to witness just how much of a crap he didn’t give about me. That, and I needed to get out of that house. So bad.

  She answered the door, rubbing a hand over her arm. “So… just don’t like, judge me or anything. The place isn’t the best.”

  “Will you stop?”

  She stepped to the side, ushering me onto the worn carpet in the hallway. We passed a bazillion family portraits, and something uncomfortable stirred in my chest. I’d grown up amongst kids who had entire game arcades in their homes—pools and tennis courts, and as ridiculous as it sounded, I had never considered what it would be like to not live like that. Until recently, people like Nora and I were worlds apart, and that had a sense of guilt winding through me. I noted the crochet blankets on the back of the living room sofa, the board games stacked on the bookshelf, their boxes as worn and dog-eared as the books beside them. I tried to imagine my dad offering to play a board game, and the thought almost made me laugh. He was too busy working to ever do anything so trivial.

  She led me up the stairs to her room, where nothing matched—stripes and dots and a mish-mash of colors, and there was a certain charm in it that was absent in my dad’s house.

  She tossed her textbook onto her bed, then flopped back onto the mattress. “So, have you talked to he who shall not be named?”

  “No. I blocked his number.”

  “Good. He’s a dick. You should totally date Jackson.” That wasn’t going to happen. Bellamy and I weren’t talking, but I had a feeling Bellamy might kill him based on the fact that he had broken into my house, again, just to warn me off. Whether what he said about Max was true or not… I had to tell her.

  I let out a sigh. “Bellamy said something to me. About Max…”

  Nora rolled onto her side, snatching a stuffed cat from the foot of her bed. “Okay... What?”

  “He said he spoke to you, that Max does some bad shit to girls...” I sat up and propped my back to the wall.

  “Yeah, he did. That was the whole conversation I had before I jumped into the pool at Jackson’s all pissed. He said Max date rapes girls.” She rolled her eyes and tossed the stuffed animal in the air. “He’s such an asshole.”

  He had warned Nora...I drew a pattern over my jeans, thinking. “Don’t get me wrong, he is an asshole, but he seemed really mad about it.”

  Mad enough to break-in. Mad over not just me, but Nora. It seemed out of character for Bellamy.

  “Look at those guys, Drew, why the hell would they date rape girls?” She shook her head, then pushed up to sit beside me. “There’s always rumors going back and forth about Dayton and Barrington. Dayton guys hate when Dayton girls go for Barrington.”

  “Bellamy said if Max hurts you, he’ll kill him.” And it was that which made me question if it were in fact true because Bellamy was not a guy to stick his neck out for a girl he barely liked unless it was dire.

  Another eye roll, followed by a snort. “Since when does the villain play the knight in shining armor?”

  I wasn’t sure if Bellamy was a villain or just the villain in my story—he sure felt like it right now.

  “He’s saying crap to get to you,” Nora sighed. “That’s how Bellamy works. Just ignore him. I promise, it’s bullshit.”

  Bullshit...I pushed to my feet and moved to the window.

  The setting sun cast a warm amber glow over the dilapidated neighborhood. Movement caught my attention. A guy across the street pushed a mower over the lawn, stopping to tug his shirt over his head. He was all abs and cut muscle and tanned skin. Then I noticed the tattoos that wound around his wrists. Bellamy. Of course he lived across the street from Nora, hence why she looked after his brother. Why didn’t I remember that?

  Nora popped up beside me. “Don’t get suckered in by that.”

  I was a sucker for it, though. And why the hell hadn’t she told me she lived in the same neighborhood as him? “You live across the street from him?”

  “Yeah.”

  I narrowed my eyes, pretending like I’d never noticed the boy had all that going on. Like I’d never been in the backseat of that van with my hands up his shirt. Or on Jackson’s bed with his dick in my mouth. I thought about the girl he’d been with last night, the way he literally made me insane.

  I pushed back from the window, and we started on our project. Halfway through the outline, Olivia texted me.

  Olivia: So I hear that Bellamy asked out that blonde girl that was at the party, Sheridan.

  That fast? My stomach twisted, and I fought the foreign feelings bubbling in my chest. That girl at the party, … Why did I care? And why did I feel like this? I stamped my fingers over the screen.

  Me: Okay. Good for him?

  Olivia: Just thought you should know. Wouldn’t want you to get screwed over. Sheridan is a ho. So is he.

  Olivia: You’re way too good for Dayton trash, babe.

  I knew she was just trying to make me feel better, but she didn’t.

>   After Nora and I finished our project, I politely declined her mom's offer to stay for dinner, my mood now pitch black. The moment I walked through Nora’s front door, I spotted Bellamy, shirtless and covered in sweat with some lawn tool in his hand.

  Our gazes locked. Olivia’s words rang through my head. No harm, no foul. But I was already harmed and fouled. So I promised myself I would not engage because God only knew what in the hell would happen if I did...

  20

  Bellamy

  Arlo cut through the freshly mowed lawn, clutching a Mason jar while he attempted to catch fireflies. I tinkered with the edger, finally getting it to start. I hated doing this shit, but Dad wouldn’t do it and Mom got embarrassed when the yard looked like shit.

  “Bubba?” Arlo shouted over the whir of the engine. “Can I water the flowers?”

  “Yeah. Sure. Just not where I’m working.”

  Movement across the street caught my attention when Drew stepped out of Nora’s house. I hated, absolutely hated, that I’d tried texting her several times over the day just to see if she’d unblocked me. Drew Morgan shouldn’t matter. She’d gotten me arrested. Given me blue balls the entire time she was evidently screwing around with Bennett, demolished my car, and caused this insane amount of jealousy to erupt in me like an angry volcano. Then she had blocked my number. But damn, if that sundress didn’t hug her in all the right places, and the way she walked like some Victoria Secret model on a runway just made it all the worse.

  She crossed Nora’s yard, her gaze every so often directing toward me. The urge to say something rose its head like an angry serpent, and I tried to fight it. I tried to act like I couldn’t give two shits less, but by the time she stepped off the curb, I couldn’t stand it any longer. I needed a reaction.

  Cutting the engine to the weed-eater, I swiped at the sweat trickling down my stomach. “Didn’t get enough to look at last night?” I grabbed the waist of my jeans and tugged them down to my hairline.