HATE: MADISON KATE #1

by James Tate

  Unfolding my arms long enough to flip him off, I smiled a nasty smile. "Bite me."

  I started down the street again, only to find myself airborne, then thrown over a wide, muscular shoulder.

  "Wha—" I shouted, shocked beyond belief. "Put me down! Kody, put. Me. Down! I can find my own way home!"

  He didn't reply, just manhandled my struggling ass into the passenger seat of his car and even buckled my seat belt up. If it hadn’t been for the way he pinned my wrists with one of his hands while strapping me in, I'd have punched him in the junk. As it was, he moved so quickly we were already back on the highway before I could fully fight back... and then I had too much sense to risk a car accident.

  "I fucking hate you, Kodiak Jones," I told him in a cold, detached voice when we eventually pulled into the driveway of Danvers Mansion.

  He released a long breath, his knuckles white on the steering wheel. "At least you're alive to feel that hate, Madison Kate."

  10

  Monday morning rolled around way too fast. I'd spent the remainder of the weekend holed up in my room, plotting my revenge. While I had a handful of promising plans for both Archer and Kody, Steele was proving a harder target. Not just because his whole social media platform seemed totally false and impersonal—all professional modelling shots that he seemed to have been roped into thanks to Archer's massive MMA sponsors—but because out of the three of them, I hated him the least.

  Since I'd arrived back in Shadow Grove, he'd been nothing but nice, and on Riot Night his only part had been to send Bree home when she was supposed to drive me.

  Still, Kody's confession about how everyone knew just ripped the scabs clean off my wounds. Everyone knew, yet no one came forward? No one had spoken up on my behalf, and certainly the real guilty parties had never stepped up to accept responsibility.

  So yeah, guilty by association or just straight-up guilty, all three of these guys were going to feel my wrath before I'd be satisfied.

  A sharp knock on my door made me jump slightly, and I scowled at my reflection. I'd been standing there in front of the mirror for ages, lost in thought, but it was game time.

  "Madison Kate?" Steele called through the door. At least he didn't just let himself in like Archer had done on my first day here. "We need to leave now if you're going to make it to your first lecture."

  I rolled my eyes at myself in the mirror. As if I needed these big, bad boys escorting me to my first day of university. But much to my dismay, when I'd finally gotten hold of my father over the phone on Saturday night, things had seriously spiraled. Now not only had the guys been instructed to drive me to and from campus everyday, but my father had given me very stern, no bullshit instructions to behave. Like I was some kind of unruly puppy.

  "I'll catch a lift with Bree!" I yelled back, not bothering to open the door and speak to him like an adult. My father wanted to treat me like a child? I'd damn well act like one.

  Apparently that was as far as Steele's patience went, because the next second my bedroom door opened and he scowled at me with folded arms. "Quit making shit harder than it needs to be, Madison Kate. Just march downstairs, park your cute ass in my car, close your eyes, and pretend you're back in Cambodia until we get to campus."

  I ignored the flicker of excitement that him calling my ass cute stirred. "Or what?" I shot back. "You going to force me into the car like Kody did on Saturday?"

  Steele winced, but then shrugged. "If I have to, sure."

  I seethed, but where the fuck did that leave me? I was counting on Steele being their softest link, the least likely to manhandle a woman against her will. Apparently, I was wrong. Or they were all epic pricks with no sense of personal space and appropriate conduct.

  "Fine," I hissed, stalking past him and stomping down the grand staircase.

  "That's a shame," he murmured from way too close behind me. "I was kind of hoping you'd give me an excuse to smack that ass."

  Shock made me stumble, and if Steele hadn't been so close on my heels—close enough to catch me with a strong hand under my elbow—I'd have tumbled the rest of the way down the stairs.

  He gave me a knowing wink, then carried on ahead of me with his hands in his trouser pockets and a smirk on his face.

  Yep. Definitely misread that one.

  So why were my cheeks flushed and my panties damp?

  * * *

  The drive to Shadow Grove University was tense but quick and mercifully silent. Neither Kody nor Archer were anywhere to be seen, and when Steele pulled into a reserved parking space close to the main entryway, I bolted.

  Okay, so it wasn’t totally silent. Steele had offered to help me find my way, seeing as I’d missed orientation, and I’d politely declined. By politely, I did mean with just a smattering of insults rather than a plethora.

  I didn’t need to be shown around. Just like I hadn’t needed orientation. The “new” Shadow Grove University was a combination of the old East Shadow Grove Country Club and the West Shadow Grove high school. While I’d never really spent a whole lot of time in West SG before, I was plenty familiar with the country club.

  It was a tiny campus compared to most universities but big enough to serve the purpose, I supposed.

  Thanks to Steele’s somewhat above speed limit driving, I’d arrived in plenty of time to find my first class and choose a seat near the middle of the room. Scrawled across the brand new whiteboard in dry erase marker: CRIM 100 - Introduction to Criminology.

  Excitement and nervous energy tingled in my veins as I read those words and pulled my laptop out. My arrest might have fucked up my path to becoming a prosecutor—because I was under no illusions that my very public trial wouldn’t work against me in that respect, whether the charges had been dismissed or not—but I still wanted to pursue a career in criminology. Somehow. The end goal was murky for now, but I’d enrolled in all the classes which struck an interest in me and I’d work out the rest later.

  “Wow, I thought the whole Madison-Kate trend died out a few months ago,” someone said from behind me, flipping a piece of my dusky-rose hair over my shoulder.

  “Excuse me?” I frowned up at the rude-as-fuck dude who clearly had no concept of personal space. He was cute, in that preppy, football-player sort of way—the kind of guy I used to date, and the kind of guy that used to bore the pants off of me. Literally, in some cases. Sex generally made them stop rattling on about sports shit.

  “You know,” he carried on, with a teasing laugh. “The whole pink-hair thing. You must be a hardcore Madison Kate groupie to still be rocking that color a year later, huh?”

  My frown deepened into a scowl. “What the fuck are you talking about?” I demanded. What the hell did this asshole mean, calling me a groupie of… me? It wasn’t like I was some kind of musician. Legit, I couldn’t sing for shit… but I wasn’t terrible on piano.

  His grin grew a little less natural. A little more uncertain. “Uh, you know… those chicks who became all obsessed with Madison Kate while she was on trial? And… like… wore ‘freedom for innocents’ T-shirts and… shit?” He’d totally lost the smile by the time he finished stuttering his explanation out and was looking really uncomfortable. His attention drifted over me again, probably taking in my pretty awesome resting bitch face, then dropped to my bag, slung over the back of my chair. On the leather flap, gold-stitched embroidery read MKD. A gift from my father.

  “Oh shit,” the guy whispered when I said nothing back. “You’re actually her. Aren’t you?”

  “If you mean, am I the infamous Madison Kate who got falsely accused of a list of bullshit offenses that I had exactly nothing to do with? Yeah. I am. But I’m seriously starting to regret dying my hair back to pink.” I released a heavy sigh and returned my attention to my laptop. I figured the guy would walk away, but he kept hovering.

  “Is there something else?” I snapped, not altogether kindly. Okay fine, not at all kindly. But in my own defense, I’d been walking the tightrope over a full rage breakdow
n for days. All it would take was one misstep from any of my three new housemates and I would start cutting heads off. And I didn’t mean the ones above their shoulders.

  The guy grinned, and it was one of those arrogant playboy grins. Ugh, I hadn’t missed those in Cambodia, that’s for sure.

  “Yeah, wow. Sorry. I’m just super surprised to see you. Here. Wow. Cool. Madison Kate Danvers in the flesh.” He had a funny kind of stunned look on his face, and I was pretty confident he hadn’t blinked since realizing I was me.

  Giving him a tight smile and feeling the eyes of other students on us, I shrugged. “Yep. I don’t think I caught your name?” I arched a brow, silently urging him to quit with the freak-out and advance like a normal human being meeting another normal human being.

  “Oh shit,” he blurted out, blinking a couple of times to break the weird trance he’d fallen into. “Yeah, sorry, where are my manners, right? I’m Rhett, but my friends call me Bark.” He stuck a huge hand out for me to shake, and I took it gingerly.

  “Nice to meet you, Bark?” I ended that like a question because who the fuck called themselves Bark?

  He nodded, giving me a small grin as he hitched his bag a bit higher on his shoulder. “Yeah, it's a carryover from high school football ‘cause—”

  “Mister Barker,” an authoritative voice came from the front of the room. Somehow, our professor had walked in and started setting up without me even noticing. How? Probably because the huge dude standing in front of me was effectively blocking my view of, well, everything. “Please take your seat. We’re about to begin.”

  Football dude—Bark—flashed me another winning grin, then slid into the empty seat beside me. Of course the seat beside me was empty. I was starting to think I’d just woken up in a clichéd teen movie or some shit.

  “Welcome to CRIM 100,” the professor continued, picking up a fresh dry erase marker and turning to the whiteboard as he spoke. “I’m Professor Barker, and before anyone asks, yes, that Neanderthal trying to chat up the prettiest girl in the room is my son, Rhett.” The professor spoke in the kind of way that suggested he had zero intention of making this class easy on his son. In fact, I almost felt sorry for Bark. I’d rather run twenty miles over broken glass than have my father as a professor.

  The lecture period flew by so fast I was actually shocked when Professor Barker declared the end and started packing up his things. My laptop was full of notes, and for the first time since stepping foot back into Shadow Grove, I was excited to be home.

  11

  After Intro to Criminology, I rode an excited high all the way through my next two classes—Intro to Psychology and English Literature—and by the time I made my way to the cafeteria for lunch, I was damn near smiling.

  I hadn’t seen Bree yet—our class choices were pretty polar opposite—but on the upside, I also hadn’t seen Steele, Kody, or Archer either.

  “You know, for a girl the entire freaking campus is gossiping about, you’re surprisingly hard to track down.” It was Bark again, stepping up beside me as I browsed the lunch options. There were all kinds of salads, some freshly made roast meats, and there were even some shellfish options. Dad had really gone all out on this university… Made me wonder where all the money had come from. Not that Samuel Danvers couldn’t afford to fund something like a brand new, top tier university… just that he wouldn’t.

  “I wasn’t aware anyone had been gossiping about me,” I replied with a blatant lie. The whispers had followed me all morning, but I was pretty good at tuning it all out. Let them talk; it didn’t affect me.

  Bark laughed, flashing that winning smile at me again and making me want to roll my eyes. I had exactly zero interest in flirting with him, but apparently my resting bitch face was having very little success in dissuading his attention.

  “Sure you weren’t,” he said, grinning like we were sharing some kind of joke. We weren’t.

  I opened my mouth to tell him as much, but he planted a hand on the counter in front of me, stopping me from walking any further down the buffet.

  “What are you doing Friday night, Madison Kate?” he asked, dropping the joking tone but laying the flirting on a whole lot thicker. If that was possible.

  I blinked at him a few times, trying to comprehend the fact that he was trying to ask me out. Or that’s what I was assuming. I’d barely actually spoken ten words to this guy, but apparently my reputation preceded me.

  Ugh. Crap. My reputation.

  I’d be willing to bet money that he wasn’t asking me out based on my reputation as the Riot Night scapegoat and exiled heiress. Nope, that leering twinkle in his almond-brown eyes said it was all about my reputation as a cheap drunk and easy lay. Damn my past promiscuous self.

  It was right there on the tip of my tongue to decline. I had no attraction to Bark, and even less inclination to revisit old, slutty-drunk Madison Kate of a year ago. But then someone caught my attention, storming across the cafeteria like a thundercloud.

  Deep sigh. Here it goes.

  “What the fuck are you wearing?” Archer snarled, shoving Bark aside and getting all up in my personal space like he had no right to do.

  Admittedly, I’d kind of known my outfit would set one of them off in some way… except my money had been on Kody trying to get into my pants. Then again, Archer being pissed off and all alpha male might be better.

  “Clothes,” I replied, my voice dripping in sass and my hands propped on my hips. “Clothes that your lovely mother left for me, I might add. Is that a problem for you?”

  I mean, I was still surprised Steele hadn’t said anything on the drive to school. Then again, Archer definitely had the worst case of BDE—Big Dick Energy—so I should have known it’d be him that had an aneurysm over my tiny pleated skirt, tight white T-shirt, and thigh-high socks worn with high-heeled Mary Janes. I looked like—

  “You look like you just stepped out of a schoolgirl porn video,” Archer growled, his blue eyes flashing with so much disdain that it almost made me laugh. Okay, fine, I chuckled out loud. “Go home and change. Now.”

  Shrugging, I stepped away from him and flipped my long, rose–colored hair like a pro. “Take it up with Cherry if you don’t like her taste in women’s clothes. In the meantime, I don’t take orders from you. So, you know, fuck right off.”

  Brushing him off like he wasn’t still hovering right there, glaring like he could set my clothes on fire with the power of his mind, I grabbed a few items of food and added them to my plate. In fairness, I had no idea what I’d just grabbed because every one of my senses was focused on Archer.

  “Madison Kate,” Archer snapped again as I paid for my food on the self-service machine. I continued pretending he wasn’t there and turned back to Bark who was shockingly still standing there with his jaw gaping.

  “So sorry, Bark, that was really rude of my new step-brother. You were saying?” I smiled sweetly, indicating he should join me as I made my way to a vacant table and placed my tray down.

  He hesitated a moment, shooting his gaze between Archer and me several times before scanning my outfit and clearly deciding I was worth the effort. “Yeah, I was, uh, I was asking you…” He trailed off, glancing over his shoulder nervously. Archer was just a few yards away, glaring at Bark now, and it was making my potential suitor all kinds of uncomfortable.

  “You were asking me out, right?” I prompted him, trying to pull his attention back to me. I was going off plan with this, but anything that made the vein in Archer’s temple throb like his head was at risk of exploding seemed like a good tactic.

  “You’re acting like a brat, Madison Kate,” Archer informed me—like I wasn’t aware. His fist was clenched at his side, and I smiled sweetly at him.

  “Which is it, Archer? A brat or a porn star?”

  His gaze darkened with something that spoke to a dark, depraved corner of my soul. “Both.”

  Unnerved by the way my heart raced when he said this, I pasted my best forced smile back on my face a
nd batted my lashes at Bark once more. “I’d love to go out on Friday night, Bark.”

  “Fuck off, Bark,” Archer snarled.

  The preppy footballer looked between us again, then backed away a step. “I’ll, uh, I’ll see you in class, Madison Kate.”

  He beat a hasty retreat, and I glared at Archer. Not that I particularly gave a shit about him running Bark off—I would have found some excuse not to turn up on Friday anyway—but he was acting like he had some claim on me.

  “Go home and change, Madison Kate,” he ordered me, folding his impressively tattooed arms over his chest, his muscles shifting in a way that would normally make my panties wet.

  “With what transportation, D’Ath? I don’t have a car, remember?”

  His eyes narrowed dangerously. “I’ll loan you mine.”

  Ignoring his suggestion, I ate a forkful of my lunch—ew, oh so gross, chicken pot pie—and chewed very slowly before replying to him.

  “Bite me, Archer. Oh hey, Bree!” I waved at my friend who’d just entered the cafeteria, then gave Archer a quick up and down. “You can go now, unless you have anything more interesting to say? No? Didn’t think so.” I shifted my chair to give him my back, then greeted my friend enthusiastically when she sat down opposite me.

  Archer said nothing more, and soon I saw him take a seat across the room where Steele already sat with several girls. Kody was nowhere to be seen, so I guessed it must have just been my bad luck to share a lunch break with both Archer and Steele.

  “What… was that all about?” Bree asked with raised brows, casting a quick look over her shoulder at where the guys sat. “And what’s with the outfit? I thought you were all jeans and sneakers these days and the primped Barbie-doll look was a thing of the past? Not that you don’t look great—you do. I’m just… confused.”

  I gave a small shrug. “Spur of the moment idea to piss my new housemates off. I think subconsciously I could smell the alpha male BS on those three and wanted to poke it with a stick.”