HATE: MADISON KATE #1

by James Tate

  A shiver ran through me at the mention of that dark, confined space where Kody and I’d first met, but a small part of me had to admit that shiver wasn't all fear. Feeling my cheeks heat, I whirled on my heels and left the room, slamming his bedroom door after me.

  Still, his laughter followed me as I rushed back into my room and put my phone to my ear with a sigh.

  "You still there, girl?" I asked Bree, and the sound of her howling laughter was all I needed to hear. "Whatever," I grumbled. "Five-two-eight-three. I'll meet you in the kitchen; I need to shower."

  "Better make it a cold one," Bree cackled. "I'm all turned on just listening to that banter."

  I growled and ended the call, not finding the need to respond to that.

  It wasn’t until I stood underneath an admittedly chilly stream of water that I even realized my father's gate code spelled KATE.

  8

  When I got downstairs, Bree was leaning over the kitchen counter with her butt popped out and a coy, girlish giggle falling from her pink lips. Archer was speaking quietly, so much so that I could only hear the low rumble of his voice and not the actual words, but the smile on his lips had me stopping dead in my tracks.

  He looked... so normal. Relaxed and at ease while he flipped pancakes. He was shirtless—which explained the puddle of drool under Bree's jaw—and his gray sweatpants hung loose on his hips. Fucking hell, I couldn't even blame my friend for acting like a fool over this guy; he really was fucking gorgeous. The tattoo that supposedly gave him his nickname stretched across the hard planes of his broad back, and my fingers itched to touch it—just to trace the stunning lines of the Sagittarius.

  Uh-huh. Yep. That's totally the reason I wanted to touch him. To appreciate his art.

  Giving myself a mental eye roll, I cleared my throat as I forced my feet back into motion,

  The second Archer saw me, his carefree expression shut down faster than a jail cell door. "Nice of you to keep your friend waiting, Princess Danvers," he sneered at me, and it immediately got my back up. "Good thing I was here to offer some hospitality."

  This time I didn't bother to hide my eye roll. "She wouldn't have needed to wait if some arrogant prick had just given me the gate code yesterday when I arrived instead of playing stupid games."

  Archer smiled, but it was a mean smile, totally unlike his easy, relaxed one before he’d seen me. "I happen to like games, Madison Kate," he replied with an edge of mocking. He slapped his spatula against his palm, and my breath hitched. Fuck. I needed to steer clear of these assholes when they were wearing so few clothes.

  Bree cleared her throat, and I dragged my gaze away from Archer and his endless expanse of inked skin. "Hey girl," she drawled, a shit-stirring grin on her face. "Arch was just telling me about his upcoming title fight. You know it's going to be televised on pay-per-view?" Her eyes sparkled with excitement, and I shook my head at her.

  "Legitimately couldn't care less," I told her, giving Archer a disgusted sneer and dismissing him from my attention. "Shall we go?"

  Bree bit her lip, glancing at Archer from under her lashes. "Oh, uh, Arch was making pancakes for us..." She trailed off as my glare turned murderous. "But you know what? I wasn't that hungry anyway."

  "Running scared?" Archer asked oh-so-casually as I started to leave the kitchen. The challenge was clear, and my shoulders bunched with tension.

  Turning slowly, I narrowed my eyes. "Nothing to be scared of here," I replied with a stubborn tilt to my chin. "Unless you're a really shitty pancake cook."

  His blue eyes were like fucking magnets, catching and holding my gaze as he moved around the kitchen with practiced ease. "So what's the problem, Princess? Sit down and have breakfast with us."

  Bree, the fucking traitor, sank her ass down onto one of the barstools and gave me a small shrug. "It's just breakfast, MK. We'll head out straight after."

  I sucked in a deep breath, feeling anger and frustration wash over me like an old, prickly blanket, then tightened my hold on my emotions. "Sure," I said, biting my words off, "just breakfast with the three bastards who would have happily seen me go down for twenty to life."

  Bree's face fell, and a twinge of guilt pricked at my heart. She clearly felt some responsibility about that period of my life, too, and this wasn't the time or place to hash it all out. So I sighed and brushed past Archer to make myself a proper coffee.

  Thankfully, my father's love of barista espresso hadn't changed in the time I'd been gone, and a shiny, chrome-finished machine sat proudly on the counter. I doubted any of the guys knew how to use it—they looked like gross drip-coffee kind of guys—so I cleaned out the old beans and replaced them with fresh before starting the process.

  Grind, tamp, brush off the excess. I worked almost on autopilot, since I'd learned to make real coffee as a twelve-year-old. The first chef my father had employed—after the massacre that saw my mother die alongside our entire household staff—had been an Australian guy called Steve. He'd come from Melbourne and spent weeks instructing me on how to use the espresso machine and how to correctly steam milk to perfect, velvety consistency for a flat white.

  Bree's groan was what cut through my coffee making trance, and I glanced over at her.

  "Girl, please tell me you're making one for me too. I swear I haven't had good coffee in over a year, and I'm getting the shakes just smelling it." She'd halfway collapsed on the island counter, being all dramatic and shit, so I grabbed another mug out of the cupboard for her.

  "I feel like I'm missing something here," Kody said from somewhere really close behind me, and I startled. I hadn't even noticed him come into the kitchen. "It's still coffee, right? Just made with a bit of douchery."

  I snorted, but didn't answer. All I could picture was his naked, wet body and his huge... uh... biceps? Yeah. Sure. Let's go with that.

  "Clearly you have no idea what you're talking about," Bree snickered. "But hey, I'm Bree."

  This made me turn my attention back to her, curious. I'd assumed they already knew each other, seeing as Shadow Grove wasn't exactly a huge city.

  "'Sup, Bree," Kody replied with one of those cool-guy head nods. "I'm Kody."

  Her cheeks flushed with heat. "I know," she responded, her voice practically dripping with lust. "You're on the billboard opposite my mom's office downtown."

  Kody grinned, arrogant fucker. "Cool."

  I rolled my eyes for what felt like the billionth time since arriving back in Shadow Grove. "You're on a billboard?" I remarked, unable to help myself. "For what? STD awareness?"

  He gave a sarcastic laugh, but his gaze was way too freaking heated for my liking as he dragged his eyes down my outfit. "Hot outfit, babe. I preferred that see-through tank you had on earlier, though. It really complimented your black lace panties well."

  Instantly, my face flamed. I'd been so half asleep when I busted into his room—and then so shocked at the sight of him naked—I hadn't even thought about what I'd been wearing. Apparently I wasn't the only one who'd gotten an eyeful this morning.

  "What?" Archer snapped, pulling both our attention and breaking the lust-filled stare down we were engaged in. One-sided lust, of course. My hate was stronger than my libido. "When did you see Princess Danvers in her underwear?" A scowl pulled his dark brow low over those beautiful blue eyes, and I tensed against the shiver of desire threatening my body. What was it about angry bad boys that turned me on so hard?

  Kody's grin was all trouble. "Wouldn't you like to know?" He smirked at his friend before throwing an arm casually over my shoulders like we'd just fucked or something. "I'll tell you this much, though, Arch. Your future stepsister did get to see my newest tattoo." He threw that out with a heavy wink in Archer's direction, and it took me a quick second to connect the dots. Kodiak Jones had a few tattoos—not as many as Archer, not by a long shot—but the one on his right thigh had looked a bit fresher than the rest of his ink. Not that I'd stared at his... uh... thigh for long enough to know for sure. But considering what h
e was implying...

  "Fuck off, Kody," I growled, tossing his arm off my shoulders. "Quit stirring up shit. I honestly couldn't dislike the three of you more than I already do, so you're wasting your breath."

  He wisely didn't say anything more, and I finished making coffee for myself and Bree in relative peace. Along the counter, Archer had made a pot of drip coffee that smelled so stale I wanted to gag. If I'd been a bigger person, I'd have taken pity on them and made everyone a flat white.

  What a shame I was petty as fuck.

  While Archer's back was turned, taking the massive stack of pancakes to the huge marble island where Bree waited, I did a quick swap. Moving quickly, I flicked the top off the sugar jar—a fancy sterling silver thing that my mother had purchased forever ago—and dumped the contents down the sink. Keeping an eye on where the guys were, Steele included as he stumbled into the kitchen looking half asleep, I filled the sugar container back to the brim with salt. It meant the salt dish was left empty, but I seriously doubted anyone would notice that at this time of morning.

  Of course, I had no way of knowing whether any of them took sugar in their coffee, but it was worth a shot.

  Humming under my breath, I took a sip of my perfect coffee and ran the tap to wash away the evidence of sugar from the sink.

  "Didn't expect to see you joining us for breakfast, Madison Kate," Steele commented. He slid into a chair, rubbing a hand over his sleep-creased face. "Who's this?" He squinted at Bree, then frowned. "You look familiar. Have we met?"

  Bree—horny bitch—blushed from head to toe and batted her lashes. "Once," she replied, "briefly. On, uh, Riot Night. You told me not to wait for MK after things went to shit at the Clown."

  Recognition registered in Steele's sleepy gray eyes, and he nodded. "That's right. I never forget a pretty face for long."

  I made an exaggerated gagging sound as I slid into my own seat and reached for the plate of pancakes. "Dial it down, Steele," I sneered. "It's too early to choke on your oozing sex appeal."

  His eyes flashed, and his grin brightened. "Oh, so you noticed my sex appeal then? Good to know."

  God damn it all to hell, I'd missed the mark on that insult.

  Releasing a long-suffering sigh, I decided to fill my mouth with fluffy—admittedly, really tasty—pancakes rather than engaging further.

  For a few minutes, everyone ate in silence. Bree picked at her syrup-covered food with her knife and fork, while the boys seemed to be making a sport of who could eat more pancakes in the shortest space of time.

  Eventually, Kody reached for his pitch-black coffee and took a big gulp before wrinkling his nose in disgust. "Ugh, maybe I do need to try that fancy coffee, Madison Kate," he muttered, shooting my half-empty mug a longing look. "This crap could strip paint."

  I shrugged, keeping my face carefully neutral. "Tough shit," I replied. "Just load it up with sugar, and you won’t taste anything."

  He grunted an annoyed noise, but got up to grab the sugar dish from the counter. Raising my own coffee to my lips, I sipped slowly and watched from under my lashes while he dropped several large spoonful’s into his mug, then stirred.

  "So what are you girls up to today?" Steele asked Bree, tugging at my attention. She was probably still batting her lashes at all three of them, but I couldn't take my eyes from Kody for even a second. Not when he was about to—

  "What the fuck?" Archer shouted as a dark spray of coffee hit him in the side of the face. Kody'd just taken a huge sip of his coffee and promptly spat it right back out... all over his bestie.

  Hah, that had worked better than expected.

  "Who the fuck switched the sugar for salt?" Kody roared, glaring at his friends. Amazingly, it didn't even seem to have crossed his mind that I was responsible. Steele knew, though, if his narrow-eyed glare was anything to go by.

  "Well," I said, dabbing my mouth with a napkin, then pushing my chair back, "I think that's our cue to leave. Bree?"

  My friend practically tripped over her own feet as she shot out of her seat and grabbed her handbag. "Yep, sure is. Uh, thanks for breakfast, Archer." She was biting her lip and blushing at him, but he was too busy mopping coffee from his face and glaring daggers at Kody.

  "Don't forget our coffee date later, Madison Kate," Kody called out when I was almost out of the kitchen. I paused, looking over my shoulder and giving him a sly smile.

  "I haven't forgotten, Kodiak," I said, "I always keep my word, and I won't even be salty about it." I shot him a wink and had the satisfaction of his storm-cloud scowl before I hurried out of the house.

  Okay, sure, if I'd put some thought into that plan I could have come up with a much better punch line. But for a spur-of-the-moment prank, I was pretty pleased with the results. So much so that I was grinning from ear to ear when Bree and I cruised out of the main gates and hit the road.

  Maybe being back in Shadow Grove wouldn't suck as much as I’d thought.

  9

  "Okay, so what's the plan?" Bree asked me some time later in the day. We'd spent hours lying on the banks of Dogwood Lake—despite the chilly weather—catching up on the past year of friendship we'd both missed.

  I didn't answer her straight away because I didn't know the answer. Everything she'd told me about what'd happened to Shadow Grove since Riot Night had thrown me for a loop. My father was no longer pushing for a political position—when had that happened?—and seemed content as the all-powerful developer of Shadow Grove. East and West Shadow Grove had been abolished, with all kinds of new structures going up along the strip that had once denoted the center line of our town—one of which was the university we'd both be starting at come Monday.

  "I have no idea," I admitted with a sigh. "Why are they going to SGU anyway? There's no way they're freshmen too."

  Bree shrugged. She knew which they I was talking about. The three pains in my ass had been our number one subject of conversation. "Your dad is super-determined to make SGU a thing," she said. "Almost every student enrolled was bought or blackmailed away from more prestigious schools to fill the halls here. Or their parents were, anyway."

  I guessed—based on her grimace—that was the case for her. Last we'd spoken, she had early acceptance to Stanford along with me. But Bree's father had told her she was attending SGU instead? Well then, that's what she did without questioning his motivation.

  "But you're right. They're all older. Pretty sure Arch is turning twenty-two in December." Her cheeks heated. "Not that I've Googled him or anything."

  I snorted a laugh, shaking my head. "Sure you haven't. You're lucky I did a lot of self-improvement in Cambodia, babe. A lesser woman would be shitty at you flirting with her mortal enemies."

  Bree paled slightly, so I gave her a grin to show I really was joking. I didn't blame her for flirting shamelessly with those three douchecanoes, and I didn't expect her to shoulder the burden of my hatred towards them. The score I had to settle was a private one, and I wasn't childish enough to drag Bree down with me.

  "Anyway, I guess step one is just getting them out of the house. I can't fucking breathe there without one of them staring at me." I shuddered dramatically and pushed away the whispered thought that maybe I liked them watching me.

  Bree nodded, her face scrunched up with thought as she sipped her iced chocolate-coconut drink. There was a chocolatier on the outskirts of Dogwood Park that made awesome drinks, and I was so freaking glad to see they'd survived all the changes in Shadow Grove.

  "Why don't you move out?" she asked, frowning slightly. "You and your dad aren't exactly on the best terms, and it's not like you don't have options. You could stay with me." I arched a brow at her, and she sighed. "Okay, maybe not me. My dad is hardly an upgrade on yours. But, you know, there are other places."

  "One," I started, holding up a finger, "because my inheritance from Mom doesn't become available until I turn twenty-one, so I'm essentially broke without Dad's help. Two, because I can't even get a job to support myself because, oh yeah, I'm a
fucking criminal in everyone's eyes around here." I seethed over that because it was fucking unjust. I'd been cleared of all charges, but it didn't matter. The damage was done. My father’s lawyer hadn't even requested the records be sealed during my trial—something that should have happened, considering I’d been a minor at the time—so my reputation was totally shredded. "And three." I held up a third finger. "Because it's the fucking principle of it, Bree. Those bastards set me up, then left me to fall for their fuckups. Now they're living in my house, acting like they belong there? And I'm, what? Supposed to just smile and hug my new brother?" I scoffed a bitter laugh. "Yeah, no. Not happening. I need to make them regret the day they ever fucked with Madison Kate Danvers."

  My friend stared back at me for a long moment, her eyes wide, then she let out a low whistle. "Damn girl," she muttered. "You've always been a bit intense, but you're kinda scary now. I'm almost intimidated myself."

  I laughed. "Almost?"

  She nodded, sucking on her straw with a loud gurgle. "Almost. Keep working on that death glare thing; it could make a grown man piss his pants with a bit more effort."

  My eyes narrowed, and she cracked up. "That's better! Like that."

  The glare melted off my face as I grinned back at her. "Whatever. We better go, anyway. I have to go for coffee with Kody this afternoon." I sighed, like I'd just said I was on my way for a pap smear or Brazilian waxing.

  "Uh yeah, what's up with that?" Bree questioned as we dusted off our jeans and wandered back to her car. "Kinda seems at odds with your whole make them regret the day the were born thing."

  "Oh trust me, I'm well aware. But those bastards hadn't given me the gate code, and I was too tired to negotiate a better trade. I told you not to come so early." I shot her an accusing look, like it was all her fault I was going on a coffee date with one of my worst nightmares.