Against All Odds

Chapter 2

"Baby, it's not what it looks like," Liam mumbled shamefully, adjusting the awkward bulge in his pants.

I shot him a sharp, incredulous look, and his gaze dropped in embarrassment.

Shame. It was a clear indicator of regret, of guilt. Did that mean he still felt something for me? Was there still a chance for us, or was I, as usual, deluding myself?

"And you, you good-for-nothing hoe!" I snarled at Veronica, who used the wall to steady herself as she pulled down her dress.

She was the real target of my fury.

Her perfect body, her seemingly perfect life, had always chipped away at my insecurities. Now, she wanted to steal my boyfriend, as if she couldn't have anyone she desired with a mere flick of her wrist. Men, and occasionally women, would line up at her beck and call with just one pout. Honestly, she sometimes stirred something in my own bisexuality. The moment she entered a room, a palpable s****l energy radiated from her, ensnaring anyone who dared to breathe it in.

"Don't blame me if you're not satisfying your man in bed," she sneered, rolling her eyes. A primal growl rumbled in my chest before I landed a solid punch on her face, no flimsy b***h slap here.

I might have looked cool and collected after the blow, but my hand throbbed with a searing pain I desperately wanted to scream away. Instead, I played it cool, saving the tears for later. Seeing her wobble from just one punch was strangely satisfying, inflating my confidence despite this being my first real fight with another adult woman.

"Harley!" Liam yelled in shock, rushing to Veronica's side to check if she was alright. The nerve of this guy! I'd actually thought he felt bad for what he did, but here he was, defending the enemy. Was he being controlled by some unseen force, or was he just that utterly dense?

"I'm fine, nothing I can't handle," Veronica said, gingerly touching her bruised cheek, a smear of blood at the corner of her mouth. Seeing Liam hold her with such concern, such tenderness, was the final straw. I lunged. It was pure instinct, a desperate reaction because I didn't know what else to do. In all those shows and movies, female fights were brutal, down-and-dirty affairs. That's exactly how I intended to play this.

Liam stumbled down a couple of stairs in the chaos of my attack, while Veronica shrieked, trying to pry me off her back. I clung to her like a leech, raining down punches, even attempting to choke her. Her nails dug into my hands, drawing blood as she desperately tried to dislodge me. I held on tight, ignoring her gasps for air as her sharp nails burrowed deeper into my skin.

"This is what you get for being a home wrecker!" I hissed, squeezing her neck harder. But I got cocky. She shoved me off, and I landed hard on the floor, my back protesting with a sharp ache.

She stood over me, panting heavily, before unleashing a barrage of punches to my face. Tears blurred my vision as she struck again and again. Who knew the girl had such force? Amidst her assault, I found the strength to grab her hair, pulling with all my might. She cried out in pain, clawing at my hands to free her head. Distracted by my dirty tactic, I bit down hard on her arm, tearing into her flesh.

I know it's not a typical fighting move, but my mind was a whirlwind. I just wanted to inflict the same pain I felt seeing her all over my man. My punches were weak, but I had other, more primal ways to hurt her, even if it meant acting like a savage animal.

"Let go of me!" she screamed, trying to shove my head away, her nails raking across my forehead, drawing more blood. I didn't release my grip; instead, I bit down harder, making her scream until her lungs felt like they would burst. The metallic tang of blood filled my mouth, and I gagged, a little vomit rising in my throat.

I couldn't stand blood. It unnerved me to my core. This felt like a nature documentary, a lion sinking its teeth and claws into a deer, refusing to let go. I was the lion, and Veronica was the not-so-helpless deer, a surprisingly attractive deer who knew how to fight back. Who knew those nature shows would actually come in handy? I flipped us over, releasing her arm, blood dripping from my mouth as I spat it onto her face. The look of utter disgust she gave me was a satisfying reward for the torment I felt from the vile taste in my mouth.

"I should f*****g kill you for what you did!" I snarled, rage bubbling through me as I gained the upper hand. Adrenaline coursed through my veins; I was winning my first real fight. I could almost imagine entering a wrestling tournament, testing my newfound skills, though I’d likely be flattened in ten seconds.

She was crying uncontrollably, like a child, and I just wanted to smash her skull against the ground until she went limp. That was my plan. I grabbed her head, getting a firm grip on her hair. I was probably going to jail for this, but a primal thirst for blood, a feeling I didn't recognise and that frankly scared me, drove me.

"Ow, please stop!" she sobbed, sounding like she’d finally had enough, yet she hadn’t known when enough was enough when it came to my boyfriend. I slammed her head hard against the ground, the sickening thud echoing in the sudden silence, like a gorilla cracking open a coconut. What was with me and these animalistic urges in a fight?

"HARLEY, STOP!" Cole’s voice boomed as he rushed up the stairs, nearly tripping. He ripped me off Veronica, who was cradling her arm and sobbing hysterically.

"What the f**k is wrong with you? You could've killed her!" Cole yelled, his grip firm as I struggled to break free. Cole, ever the good friend, always pulling me out of the messes I created.

But now wasn’t the time for his good Samaritan act. All I wanted was to tear that b***h apart, limb by limb, and bathe in her blood. Maybe I had a problem, but it felt justified, as long as I didn’t act on it more than I already had.

"Good! I want the b***h dead! Better yet, I wanna kill her with my bare hands!" I screamed. "You hear me, you hoe? I'll kill you!" My voice was hoarse by the time Bobby and the rest of the gang stumbled up the stairs to assess the c*****e. Our group thrived on drama, so it was no surprise to see Michi recording us, like we were some gossip club I’d been involuntarily inducted into.

"s**t," Michi muttered, looking down at a bloodied Veronica.

"What the hell is wrong with you? You're acting like a freaking animal!" Liam snapped, gently lifting Veronica, who groaned at the movement.

"I thought you liked things a little rough? Was this a little too rough for you?!" I spat, glaring daggers at him. He didn't respond, just gritted his teeth and headed downstairs, carrying Veronica. The gang’s eyes followed them before returning to me.

"The hell you looking at? Such loyal friends you all are," I said sarcastically.

"Yeah, I've been meaning to tell you about that. Sorry it took so long," Chad mumbled shamefully, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. As if I’d ever believe another word that came out of his mouth.

"Get the f**k out of my face, all of you! Looking at you all disgusts me!" I shouted. They thankfully obeyed, trooping downstairs to probably help patch up that cheating, manipulative, lying b***h.

The reality of what had happened finally crashed down on me, and I sank to the floor, sobbing uncontrollably as Cole held me, murmuring soft, meaningless words of comfort. I couldn't believe this was happening. Not one good thing could ever last in my life. Why was this happening to me? I’d done everything “right”—breakfast in bed, doing the chores so he had time for his friends, not disturbing his hours of yelling during video games, ensuring a warm meal waited for him every day. I’d become wife material, but apparently, it wasn't enough. He just had to find some other girl to stick his d**k in because clearly, I wasn't sufficient.

Why did I even bother with relationships when all I ever found was pain? God, I was so stupid. Why hadn't I listened to my inner voice and stayed away from Liam? Oh right, because I was an attention-seeking i***t.

"Come on, let's get you cleaned up," Cole said gently, slowly helping me to my feet. I followed him robotically to his bathroom, letting him wash the blood from my face and hands. He lent me one of his shirts since mine was torn and bloodied. Honestly, I didn't deserve his kindness after all the crap I’d dragged him into. Just when I thought my life was finally finding some semblance of peace, the universe decided I’d had enough.

"Come on, get some rest," he said, fluffing the pillows on his bed. But I couldn't rest here, knowing what my boyfriend was probably doing just a few steps away. There was only one place I went when I felt like absolute trash and didn't want to be alone in my flat.

"I'm going to my ma's," I told Cole, heading towards the cellar to grab a few bottles of booze to drown my sorrows. I was grateful for Cole's help, but I just needed to be alone for a few days, maybe hibernate at my moms for months, to get over this. I was physically and mentally drained to even register the sight of Veronica holding her arm, Liam rubbing it supportively. I couldn't help but scoff, making them both look up.

"What the hell do you want?" Liam asked angrily.

"It's alright, give us some space," Veronica said, gently placing her hand on his shoulder to calm him. Liam looked at her sceptically, as if the moment he left, I’d tear her apart.

He wasn't entirely wrong, but I wasn't interested in another fight. I just wanted to go home and sleep for enternity.

"We're reasonable adults here. We can have one conversation without conflict, right, Harley?" That sinister smile she gave me grated on my nerves.

"Right," I agreed through gritted teeth, never breaking eye contact. Liam reluctantly left us alone, and I was left with the b***h who’d ruined my relationship. How she still looked so good after that fight was beyond me.

"Of course, I'm not heartless, as most people assume, but I'm sorry for causing any problems between you two," she said, sounding genuinely contrite for a split second before adding, "But I'm not sorry that I'm the girl he decided to hook up with. I mean, the man is a beast in bed. How you honestly didn't keep a closer eye on him is ridiculous because truly, he is a catch." She bit her lip, a smug look on her face as she imagined their trysts.

My anger flared, a white-hot fury that made me want to push her down the stairs and watch her neck snap.

"You had to be a blind bat not to see it. I mean, we made it pretty obvious on numerous occasions. He was constantly on his phone. Didn't you ever think to check who he was talking to? Weren't you even the least bit curious, or were you just that stupid?" She was testing my patience.

Of course, I’d wondered day after day who occupied his attention. Sleepless nights were spent wrestling with that very question, but I wasn't a nosy person. Deep down, I knew something was wrong; I just hadn't acted on it in time. I gritted my teeth, refusing to lash out as she clearly expected. I still had some semblance of self-control.

"You know, I might seem chill with what just happened, but be assured, I'm not. You better watch your back from now on because I could easily hire someone to make your life hell. And as badly as I want that to happen, I won't, because I'm not a total monster. So, better sleep with one eye open, girly, 'cause I'm coming for you," she threatened, trying to sound intimidating, but it just made me chuckle. Seriously? She thought she could threaten me and I’d cower in fear? She clearly didn't know me at all.

"Listen here, Barbie," I said nonchalantly, "I'm not intimidated in the slightest bit by you. And for a fact, I know you're just spewing bullshit. Don't think I don't know that your dad's company is going broke, so flaunting your money like you usually do isn't exactly the best option for you unless you want to end up on the streets." I wasn't kidding. Her dad was going under.

I’d heard it from Cole, who’d heard it from one of his dealer friends, who’d heard it from the pharmacist who supplied him, who also happened to supply Veronica’s dad with antidepressants and other things a reputable businessman shouldn't need.

"Where the hell did you hear that?" she demanded angrily, taking a step closer. I raised an eyebrow at her advance, and she disgustedly eyed me like I was the scum of the earth.

"A little birdy told me," I hummed, pleased to see her feathers ruffled. What I didn't expect was her reckless attempt to push me to my probable death. Seriously, spoiled brats and their anger issues should be classified as a serious mental disorder. She actually tried to shove me down the curved stairs, but luckily, my reflexes were quick. I sidestepped, and the momentum of her push sent her spiralling down to her death.

Shit, s**t, s**t.

This was not how I’d planned to end my night. I hurried down the steps, stopping at the bottom, staring at her limp body and wide, vacant eyes. Blood seeped from the wound on her head, forming a small, dark puddle. The sight and smell sent my stomach into violent spasms, and I wretched, vomiting onto the floor next to her, the acidic fluids burning my throat. I hated blood, truly hated it. The metallic scent alone made me nauseous and dizzy.

My first thought was to pretend she’d just fallen down the stairs, that I had nothing to do with it.

Ha! I should be a comedian. Who would believe that, especially after our earlier fight? They’d automatically assume I’d pushed her, and with no evidence to the contrary, I’d go straight to jail. I couldn’t go to jail. I had my mom and nephew to take care of. This was it. I was done for. I’d had a nice life while it lasted. Now, I was facing a lifetime behind bars, tears streaming down my face as I stared at her lifeless, hollow eyes.

Unless…

Unless I covered this whole thing up, turned it to my advantage. Burn or bury her body somewhere far away. Yeah, I’d clean up this spot with bleach and other cleaning products, pretend nothing ever happened. I’d make it seem like she’d gone on a long trip to de-stress after discovering her dad was going broke. I mean, who was really going to miss Veronica? She was a mega-b***h, and most people would probably be glad for a few weeks of no complaining from her.

Oh, who was I kidding? I couldn't do this. I wasn't a murderer. Everyone knew I was a kind-hearted person. But what other choice did I have? I couldn't go to the police, not unless I was suicidal, which I definitely wasn't.

I felt incredibly guilty about our fight, but not an ounce of remorse for her death. She could rot in hell for all I cared. How on earth had I ended up with these types of people? I didn’t even get along with these young, energetic teens. I’d just turned twenty-eight and already felt like an old granny. I was too old to be hanging out with people like Veronica, or was that just my insecurities talking? Oh my gosh, this was the very reason I didn't like getting involved with people. I should have stuck to just hanging out with Cole and taken that part-time library job to occupy my time. Friends were clearly not my forte, and I was finally learning where I truly belonged in this messed-up world.