Hating You

by Beck, J. L.

  “Warren,” he introduces himself, a boyish grin on his lips. Warren. The name seems to fit him. Prim and proper. “I’m sure I’ll see your beautiful face around.”

  I nod, caught up in his words. Lifting my hand, he presses a kiss to the top before releasing it. It falls back down to my side as he turns and disappears into the crowded room like an illusion. Weird.

  My father turns to where I had been looking, a moment ago. For a few seconds, he seems pleased with me, but we all know he can’t have that.

  “Did you ask for his last name?”

  I snort, “No, father, I did not.” I grind my teeth together so hard my jaw aches.

  “Quit being difficult and just do what I’ve asked of you. I need at least one of my daughters to live up to the family name. Your sister has already disappointed me. Don’t do the same. I can only handle one family fuck up at a time.”

  Turning to face him, I bare my teeth. How dare he!

  “Ashton is not and never will be a disappointment,” I speak through my teeth, finally having reached my limit with his bullshit. You are the fuck up, I add in my head.

  He takes a threatening step toward me, and I try not to react to the closeness; he is, after all, my father. I shouldn’t be afraid of him, but I’m not that naive. He’s not only rich but also powerful, even without all the friends he’s lost over the last two years. If I get in his way, he’ll squish me like a bug, daughter or not.

  “Your sister cost me everything. She is more than a disappointment, and if you don’t fall in line with how I want things to be, then I’ll have no reason to keep supporting her. I’m doing this for you, and only you.”

  Tears sting my eyes, threatening to spill over. “She’s your daughter,” I croak. How can he be so heartless toward his own child?

  Darkness glitters his eyes, there is no remorse, not a single shred of compassion. If I didn’t know it before, I am certain now that my father is nothing more than a heartless monster.

  “She’s nothing, and you will be nothing if you don’t learn to follow my orders. Do as you’re told, Willow. Don’t ask questions. Obey me, and you and your disappointment of a sister will be just fine.”

  Swallowing around the lump of fear that’s lodged in my throat, I nod. There isn’t any point in speaking anyway. Not to him, not to a person who doesn’t care about anything besides himself. I was so naive to think that by coming here I would be safe. I should have known that his corruption and power would be able to reach me anywhere… I should’ve known better.

  “Make a mockery out of me a second time, and I’ll make sure you never see or hear from Ashton again.” He turns, letting the threat linger in the air between us as I stand there. I’m in a sea of people but couldn’t feel any more alone.

  2

  Parker

  Revenge. It consumes me. It’s the pillar of life. The hate for Willow and her sister has become my newest obsession and will be my biggest downfall. It’s been festering inside of me for years, eating away at me like a cancer, but today it’s reached an all-new level. Seeing her for the first time in two years. It’s like an indescribable high.

  I didn’t believe my father when he told me she would be coming here. As sick and twisted as it is, part of me hoped it wasn’t true, while the other craved for it to be. Craved to have her near, so I could punish her for what she did. I curl my fingers into my hands, the thought of being close enough to touch her has me on edge.

  Watching her the last couple of days has been both torture and exciting. My fingers itch to touch her. To mark her. I want to run my hands across her porcelain skin just to see if it’s as soft and smooth as it looks. I want to inhale her sweet scent into my lungs and let it drag me under. No. I snarl to myself.

  I can’t get distracted by her beauty. I need to concentrate on what I really want…really need. I remind myself that her beauty is only an illusion, hiding the ugly person inside. Everything about Willow is a facade, she’s faker than most of the girls here at Blackthorn.

  Trying my best to blend in and not raise any attention, I stay in the background. Hiding my face in the few shadowy corners, this large room has to offer. I’m not used to this, hiding in plain sight. Normally, I would be the center of attention, the spotlight on me, but not today. I don’t think most people here even know who I am, not yet anyway.

  As I watch from across the room, my eyes move from Willow to her father, William Bradford. He’s talking to another parent, doesn’t care about anything but money and power. I’ll bet anything his daughter being here has very little to do with getting a good education and everything to do with getting back in the good graces of the elite families. I still wonder how he got her enrolled in the first place. Why did my father let her attend?

  “Dude, what the hell is wrong with you?” Warren, one of my best friends, says, as he nudges me in the arm.

  “Nothing,” I grit out, but my response doesn’t match my behavior. There’s loads wrong with me, and Warren can see that from a mile away.

  “Is that her?” he asks, tipping the champagne flute in his hand toward her.

  All I do is grunt because she’s not worthy of any more of my attention, let alone both of ours. Warren follows my line of vision, and we both stare at her as she scowls at all the other families as they pass by. Does she think she is better than everybody here? Probably.

  “She’s pretty, in a Snow White kind of way.” He isn’t wrong. Black hair, ivory skin, and ruby red lips. She does look like Snow White, and I guess that makes me her Huntsman. The only difference is, our story won’t end like a fairytale.

  “Don’t be fooled by her beauty, it’s just a trick, an illusion to hide all the ugly on the inside. She might be pretty, but she’s like a deadly poison.”

  “All women are like poison,” he mumbles, his face scrunching up as he stares at her more intently. Gritting my teeth, I stop myself from slugging him in the face. I have to remind myself that he is not the enemy here, she is.

  My obsession with her has ruled my mind for so long. It’s hard for me to shove the territorial thoughts away, to separate me wanting to have her and wanting to destroy her. She’s not mine, and she never will be.

  “What’s the plan?”

  “Revenge. I will make her life a living hell while she is here. I’m going to make her feel the same pain she caused my family.” And then some.

  “You mean to tell me you aren’t going to sample that fine piece of ass before you destroy her? Or maybe that’s how you get your revenge? What if she’s a virgin? Wouldn’t that be the perfect way to make her pay? To claim the one and only thing she has to give her new husband?”

  My throat tightens, and I swallow thickly at the thought. For years I’ve wondered what it would be like to dive between her thighs and taste her. To drink from her until there was nothing left. Would I feast, ravishing her, or would I sip like a fine wine?

  “This isn’t the fifteen hundreds. She is eighteen, I highly doubt she is still a virgin or saving herself for marriage.”

  Warren cocks his head to the side, and out of the corner of my eye, I see his gaze raking over her body. Across the room, unaware of all the attention, she stands with her arms crossed over her chest. The swell of her breasts is peeking out of that innocent-looking pink blouse, and I wonder if she knows that she is pushing up her tits standing like that.

  My eyes move on their own, traveling over her heart-shaped face, and those sparkling green eyes, that hold a million and one secrets. I burn to crack her open, to snap her in two, and see what comes out.

  “Maybe, or maybe not? You never know, and with as cold and uptight as she looks, I wouldn’t be surprised. She seems like she needs to be thoroughly fucked.”

  “Shut up,” I growl, tugging the hood of my sweater further down over my face. “I doubt it, and even if she is, I don’t care. It changes nothing.” I have a different idea on how to break her.

  Warren smirks. “Well, if you don’t care, I think I’ll just waltz
on over there and introduce myself. Test the waters a little? Get my dick wet? You know I’m all about leaving a lasting impression.” The fucker winks, and I curl my hand into a tight fist instinctively. Best friend or not, I would punch him in the face without thought.

  Asshole. I bite my tongue, feeling compelled to tell him, no, but I don’t. Willow is free game to any fuckface at this school, Warren included.

  “Be my guest, but I don’t want to hear you bitching when you catch something. You don’t know who has been between her legs.”

  “I’ll look at it before I stick my dick in it. Make sure there is no rash,” he snickers. “Or at least, not a nasty looking one.”

  “Good luck with that.” He’s probably going to be the one to give her something. I make a habit of not fucking girls after Warren has been with them, which narrows down the list of available pussy dramatically. “Let me know how experienced she was when you are done.”

  “Doesn’t matter. After I’ve been there, all the others will be a forgotten memory.” Flipping me his middle finger, he walks away and heads for her like a cat prowling across the African savanna. She’ll never stand a chance against Warren. He’s a natural predator, even worse than me. Curiously, I watch as he greets her. Like most women, she smiles as he introduces himself.

  Everything inside of me says to follow him over there, to drag him away, but I can’t. I don’t want to give myself away yet. The element of surprise is going to be my biggest asset here. Willow will never see me coming, and that’s what I need. I can’t wait to see her face fill with fear when she realizes she’s walked head-first into her own nightmare.

  As I’m standing there, watching; Willow smiles at something Warren says, a wave of jealousy slams into me. It’s powerful enough to take me out at the knees, but I suck in a deep breath and push it down, burying it deep inside my gut.

  Fucking asshole.

  Shaking my head, I tell myself that I’m not going to let Warren ruin this for me. Not with his antics, charm, or snide comments. And Willow, she’s not worth being jealous over. I can have any girl I want here at Blackthorn. She’s nothing special. Nothing at all.

  Lost in thought for a brief moment, I miss the rest of the interaction between Warren and Willow, and when I look back up, I find Willow cowering beneath her father’s icy gaze. I don’t know why, but in that moment, I want to walk over there and kick her father’s ass. I want to tell him that he doesn’t belong here, that the only person that can hurt her is me, but I don’t. Instead, I tamp down the feeling, reminiscing about all the wrongs the Bradfords have done to my family.

  “Breaking her is going to be so easy. She’s delicate, like glass, when I kissed her hand, I swear, she shivered.” I can see the wheels in Warren’s head turning. “I will definitely help you break her. It’ll be fun, give me something to do.” He wiggles his eyebrows, “And I do mean literally. She’s prettier than I expected. I might give her a ride or two.”

  Snapping, I growl, “Her beauty has nothing to do with this.”

  Warren snickers, “Liar. It has everything to do with it. Her beauty is a weakness for you.”

  Taking a step toward Warren, I bump my chest into his. We’re the same height, same body type. In a fight, we would be pretty much equal, that is, if he’d ever fight. I doubt he’s ever fought in his life. I might come from a filthy rich family, but I’ve gotten my hands dirty more than once. Warren is nothing more than a pretty boy with a sick and twisted mind. He’s a fly, a gnat. I don’t know why, but I feel the need to remind him that she’s mine. That all of this has to do with my revenge on her.

  Gritting my teeth, I stare down my best friend. “She’s mine to break. Mine to hurt. Do you understand that, or do I need to explain it to you in detail?” My fists clench and unclench, rage flickering through my veins like an out of control forest fire.

  Warren blinks, and for a moment, it looks like he’s going to fight me on it, but instead, he gives me a chin nod and takes a step back. That’s right, you know you don’t stand a chance. A sickening satisfaction fills my gut. Not wanting to make a scene, I back down. I have better things to do for the rest of the day.

  Tonight, I’ll make my presence known.

  Tonight, I’ll remind her of all the wrong her family has done.

  3

  Willow

  The wind chills me to the bone as I walk across campus back to my dorm. The fall night air is crisp, and the stars blanket the sky like a million twinkling lights. Wrapping my arms around myself, I wish that Alice had decided to come back to the room with me.

  After brunch with my father and a run-in with one of the many rich boys of Blackthorn, I spent the rest of the day with Alice and her parents. We went bowling and then did some shopping before having dinner together. Almost like gasp a family.

  They offered me a ride back to the dorms, but I refused. I feel bad as it is for having crashed their family fun. Plus, the walk from the cocktail bar they went to isn’t far. The place is five minutes away from the campus edge, the perfect location for students.

  As the dorms come into sight, a chill ripples through me, but it isn’t from the cold. No, this chill is the kind you feel deep in your gut, the kind that makes the small hairs on the back of your neck stand up. Fear creeps up my spine like a thousand little bugs crawling under my skin.

  Reaching into my purse, my fingers shake as I fish out the key card to open the front door. When I finally get to the entrance and manage to pull the damn card out, I swipe it in a rush. The tiny red light blinks, and I groan into the air. Seriously?

  I slide the card again, still nothing. My pulse is racing, and even though I’m cold, there is sweat forming on my brows and hands. Glancing over my shoulder, I quickly scan the area. I don’t see anyone, but I still feel like someone is watching me.

  It’s almost like I’m in one of those ridiculous horror movies, hiding, waiting for the monster to find me. Forcing air into my lungs, I tell myself to calm down. You’re safe. No one here knows you. No one knows what you did. After sliding the card a third time, the green light finally blinks. A clicking noise comes from the lock, and I’m able to push the door open the next second. Warm air blows against my face as I enter, and once I’m inside, I pull the door shut behind me. Standing there for a moment, I sigh in relief and almost slump against the door.

  What the hell was that? I must be going crazy. Looking through the glass door, I stare at the wooded area across the street, waiting, watching for something to happen. But after a few minutes, nothing appears, and I’m left wondering if I’ve lost my mind.

  I’m alone. No one is out there.

  Shaking my head and the irrational fear away, I turn around and walk up the single flight of stairs to my room. The dorm is unusually quiet tonight, but I guess that’s to be expected. Classes will be starting soon, and most of the students are visiting with their families. Exchanging the tiny ass dorm bed for a decent sized one.

  Using the same card I used to open the front door downstairs, I place it in the slot beside the doorknob of my dorm and listen as the lock disengages on the first try. The door creaks as I push it open and step across the threshold. Reaching for the light switch, I take another step.

  My fingers graze the very edge of the switch, but before I can flip it on, someone grabs me from behind. Everything happens so fast I can barely comprehend what’s going on. Before I can even think of crying out for help, a hand comes slamming down over my mouth. A scream catches in my throat, only to come out as a muffled whimper when I’m shoved against the nearest wall face first. I can’t breathe. I can’t do anything. My attacker kicks the door shut next, ruining any chance of someone seeing us, or me seeing his face.

  My eyes are wide open, but with the room draped in complete darkness, I can’t even see a foot in front of me. The smell of whiskey and soap tickles my nostrils as I suck in a precious breath of oxygen. Without warning, I’m gripped by the shoulder, my attacker’s fingers dig into my skin with just enough pre
ssure to cause pain, and I’m flipped around, my back meeting the wall a second later, and the hand is removed from my mouth.

  Opening my mouth to speak, I find I can’t form a single word, my tongue heavy in my mouth. My pulse pounds loudly in my ears, banging like a drum.

  Thump. Thump. Thump.

  I just stand there, petrified with fear. My arms hanging down at my sides, useless limbs.

  The same fingers from my shoulder, start trailing down between my breasts. What’s going to happen? I’m shaking now, my entire body vibrating.

  I can’t just stand here, I have to do something, anything…

  “I…” My lips wobble, a sob building in my throat.

  “Shut up!” The sound is violent, dark, deep, angry, so angry. His words pulse through me like a second heartbeat, and I don’t understand why I just stand there. Why don’t I try and fight him? With his other hand, he circles my throat, gently squeezing the flesh as if he’s testing its durability. The pressure against my throat makes it hard for me to focus on anything else. Is he going to strangle me? Hurt me? His touch is firm, warm, and I gasp when I feel his nose skim against my cheek.

  He inhales through his nose, and it’s almost as if he’s smelling me. He squeezes, and I lift my hands, grabbing at his hand around my throat. There’s no point in fighting him though. Like an annoying fly, he swats them away, and instead squeezes harder, warning me, proving that he holds all the power. Letting my hands fall away, I do my best not to struggle as my lungs burn with the need for air. Slowly, his grip eases, and breathing comes easier, each labored breath making my breasts brush against his solid chest.

  Seconds tick by, but I remain still, my body rippling with fear. My throat throbs and my knees threaten to give out on me, but somehow, I still manage to keep myself standing up.