Reckless Hate: A Bully High School Romance (enemies-friends-enemies-lovers-enemies) (Westbrook Blues Book 1)

by Thandiwe Mpofu

  ASTRAEA

  THE NEXT TIME I WAKE, I can feel that he is gone. Honestly, if it wasn’t for my swollen lips and the slight pain between my legs from all that fucking and the smell of sex in my room, I would have said it was all a dream.

  Then there is the pain from my throbbing ass. . .

  But I can still feel his arms around me. Can still hear the notes of anger and hate in his voice as he punished me.

  I have no idea how he expects me to function like a normal person after last night, but I don’t feel panic at all. Maybe I should have fought him more. He did after all hold me down and spanked my ass but nowhere in that time did I feel like the room was closing in on me as I was expecting.

  I’m not stupid enough to think that’s it’s because I’ve healed, but really it’s because I trust his touch. I trust him, against my better judgement.

  I roll over, smelling Ace’s special fragrance all over my sheets and inhale and then as I slowly open my eyes, it’s then that I realize that my curtains are fully open and the sun’s rays are filtering through.

  I groan and glance at my nightstand table.

  There is a note and my phone that is plugged in to the charger. There is also a bottle of water as well as some cream.

  I snort as I reach over for the cream and read the back label, it must be for my sore ass. At least he wasn’t an asshole about it and left me to fend for myself. But, how does he know all of this shit? What kind of shit is he into?

  I reach over for the note and it only says;

  Be out front by seven fifteen.

  Ace.

  I ROLL MY EYES, WANTING to ignore the whole thing and get back to sleep. I don’t feel like school today and I honestly don’t know what time it is so, that doesn’t matter at all.

  I snag the bottle of water and twist it open, gulping the entire thing down. Those PB&J sandwiches were awesome and all I had, but this morning, I feel so damn hungry. Maybe I can sneak into the kitchen and fix myself something, without being caught.

  The truth is, I don’t want to go to school because I don’t want to see particular faces. Not after that combustive revelation of secrets at the boy’s safe house. I don’t want to see the uncertain looks of pity in Noah and Emmett’s eyes. I’m still not a hundred percent sure about how Ace feels about it all, but I do feel thoroughly fucked and sore all over.

  If I can delay the inevitable with Emmett and Noah, then I’ll gladly do just that. I’m not ready to see them just yet. I can avoid them by not going to school today. Or ever. Yeah, I prefer not going back to that hellish jungle of teen supremacy ruled by her royal bitchiness, Brittney.

  But as my gaze falls back to the table where my phone lies, there is another note that I hadn’t noticed before and it’s also from Ace.

  I have no problems repeating last night, if you don’t follow my instruction. Only this time, you won’t be screaming in pleasure. Get your succulent ass up.

  Ace.

  I ROLL MY EYES AND eye the alarm clock that he obviously switched on after I unplugged it in my mental state of darkness. It’s 0652 and he will be here in less than twenty-three minutes.

  I grab my phone and notice that I have multiple messages from Noah, Emmett and Kim. With the latest one being from Kim, literally begging me to be at school today. I smile, feeling the beginnings of unease settle in the pit of my stomach.

  Kim is not stupid, I know she will soon want answers, because none of this behavior is normal. Not when the gorgeous, sexy as hell boys that run Westbrook High, are always hell bent on being around me and inevitably her, so I know she will want answers.

  Am I ready for that? Can I divulge to her the entire truth of just how deep my roots are in Westbrook? How my relationship with the boys came to be and then fell apart. How in those years that life was easy in Westbrook, all I ever wanted was to be around a certain, unsmiling, totally incredible and mean hellish icy blue-eyed football player?

  Hell, I even wanted to join the cheerleading squad for him—well, and for Noah and Emmett. Now look where that lead us.

  I drop my phone quickly running to the bathroom, where I strip in a rush and get under the hot spray of water, washing away the pain of the last, I have no idea how many, bleak hours of my life.

  I can just about feel Ace’s touch on me as well. I can feel the way he gripped my throat at some point of the night and fucked me like nothing else in this world, screwing to within an inch of my life.

  Then there is the darkness I experienced before Ace came for me. That was terribly. I practically lost myself there.

  But even in all that darkness, the only one that I remember is not me or the acute pain of losing my twin but it’s Ace.

  I know I should probably stay away from Ace if only to be fair to myself. Ace will hurt me if I let him. He will destroy me if I ever got comfortable enough to think that he wants me. But last night or the early hours of this morning, I gave him my all, no holds bared.

  I wonder if I’m in over my head here. I mean, who wants to have damaged pieces of anything?

  I should be disgusted by his touch—or any of the guys in all honesty. I don’t like being touched, my own mother has boundaries—even George before he died was careful not to touch me in anyway because that would only lead to a frenzied panic and the most extreme cases, a meltdown. Even though he didn’t understand why, my brother just allowed me to heal in my own time.

  I was molested and sexually assaulted at the age of thirteen after a party. In this very house. Well, not this house per say but the one that burned down.

  I should have no desire whatsoever to have any kind of intimate relations with anyone, yet when it comes to Ace, just a look from him and I’m hot all over.

  It’s not like I didn’t try exploring sexual advances from other people in London, I did. Hell, I tried to fuck myself with a freaking toy. The most painful thing I have ever done, but last night? Last night was incredible. It was more than I could ever imagine for myself.

  I tried to feel something after turning sixteen. My therapist, in all her glorified wisdom, told me that I can buy myself a toy and play with myself but even then, nothing ever happened. Not even a spark of desire—but I’m suddenly putty in Ace’s hands. Falling apart at his command.

  I still in the shower, my heart thundering in my chest. This can’t be happening. I can’t be doing this, there is no way.

  I think back over to last night and it hits me then like the force of a freight train, hitting me square in my chest. I gasp out loud as the events of last night comes flashing before me in quick succession.

  I had an emotional meltdown last night.

  I tried to overdose on Xanax pills—the same drug that killed my brother, apparently. But why?

  Subconsciously, my mind knew what it was doing before it could register—but then how come I’m still here? How did he know? I quickly turn off the water and hop out of the shower and dry up with messy, hurried strokes but I don’t care. I need to find out.

  I apply my body lotion in a hurry, plug in my hair dryer, kissing the stars in sky that my hair dries really fast. I comb it until it’s sleek but some strands are still wet but whatever, they will just have to air dry. I brush my hair and then tie it in a sleek ponytail that falls to right above my throbbing ass.

  I apply shiny gloss to my lips and eyeshadow. I have no idea why I am even bothering with makeup but for some reason, I want to look good today. As I look at myself in the mirror, I notice the look in my eyes. It’s a look I have never seen before. It’s a wild, untamed and sensual look. I’m not so sure if I like that look, or that glint in my eyes.

  A glint that was caused by Ace no doubt.

  I make my way back into my room, dash for the cream he left and start applying it generously to my stinging behind. I make my way to the closet and straight for my school uniform section and that’s when I catch the image of my behind in the mirrors that surround the closet and I gasp.

  “Urgh, you have got to be kidding me!”


  My ass is not only red, but you can just about see hand prints all over even my hips have his hand prints on them as well. How did I not feel this last night? Urgh, I’m going to kill him. I knew his grip was firm but this? Really?

  I roughly select some boy shorts that cover my entire ass and then select the longest skirt I have, but all of them are the same, snotty, rich kid, bratty academy girl length.

  I curse my mother to the moon and back. This is just not my day. I dress up in my usual get up and spray on a little perfume—something else that is totally out of character—and then dash back into my room.

  I have about five minutes to spare so I grab my pendant—I never leave the house without it—and put it around my neck and then I start hunting for them but even as I lift my sheets, throwing away the scattered, lone pillows, I know they are not there.

  He took them. I drop down, in search of my anxiety pills but there is nothing. I open all the drawers, my hands now shaking and I can feel the early onset of shivers beginning to attack my body.

  “No, no. Please no.” I whisper but I already know, he took them.

  I start to sweat and stand still in my room, I need those pills, I won’t make it through the day without them. I won’t be able to face those asshole kids at school and Brittney without keeping my cool. Not without my pills, I can’t. I start to tremble but then the blast of a car horn jars me back to life.

  Ace.

  He took my pills, which means he has them. All I need to do is get them back. So, I grab my school bag and my phone and I’m out of my room in no time.

  “Good morning Astraea. I see you are up and full of life today.” My mother pops out of nowhere, blocking my path to the door. She is sipping a cup of steaming coffee but in my mind, all I can think of are the pills.

  “Morning Mom. I’ll be late for school.” I try to go past her but she blocks my way.

  “Are you feeling better today? You know we can go to your doctor after school right?”

  “Mother, I’m fine! I wasn’t feeling too good. I’m sorry for ignoring you.” I tell her, feeling the need to pull my hair in frustration. My heart is pounding so painfully. I need my pills. I can’t do this. . .the voices will come back and so will the darkness. The anxiety. Fuck.

  “Well alright. I called the school. And explained that you were not feeling well these past days so you should be fine today.” She says and I nod my head, forcing a smile, feeling the onset of nausea starting.

  “Thanks Mom, but I have to go.”

  Thankfully, she doesn’t stand in my way long and actually allows me to leave this time. I pull open the heavy doors and run—like really run—down the stairs, straight to the open passenger door. I never run, not for anything. Not since I didn’t make the hockey team in seventh grade.

  “Where are they?” I demand as soon as I get in the car and the door closes after me. Ace glances at me, his icy gaze covered by the latest Ray Ban’s Aviator Gradient—don't ask how I know that, I just do, but doesn’t say anything and that just pisses me off because by this, point my entire body is shaking like a bitch. “Ace, where are my damn pills?”

  “I got rid of them.”

  Everything stops and just freezes in time. Did he just?

  “What?” I screech in the confines of the car, my body trembling. I’m unaware that we are already out of the estate gates and are now going down the mountain side.

  “I got rid of them.” He says again as if I hadn’t heard him the first time. His voice is bored, not at all concerned that I’m suffering here. My brain is almost short circuiting and it’s all his fault.

  “And why would you fucking do that?” My voice is shaky, but I don’t think I care at all in that moment. All I see is red.

  “Because I can.” He states with finality and turns back to the road like it’s all normal for him, nothing at all out of the ordinary. It’s almost as if he doesn’t care at all. And I realize that he doesn’t. He doesn’t care.

  It’s then that the so called punishment that Ace gave me last night comes back to mind, in bits and pieces of course. And I can clearly hear the entire conversation.

  “I can’t shake them. I’m still addicted to them.”

  With a horrified gasp I realize that I told on myself to Ace. I told him the truth that I suspected but never faced. When I was sent away, after a while of facing major anxiety attacks, waking up screaming, the desperate need to escape attacking me only to be doused by the chilling fact of my loneliness. I just wanted to die.

  “Ace, please.” My voice is broken, I remember those very words, uttered in weakness, said in broken pain that I couldn’t understand or comprehend at all. It was his name that I uttered in a broken plea.

  “You don’t need those damn things.” Is all he says in response. Logically, I know he’s right but realistically speaking, he doesn’t understand my situation or the detriment of it.

  “You weren’t there.” My eyes are filled with tears, we are in an enclosed space and the car is going faster but I know he can hear me. “You weren’t there and you let me go.”

  “That’s fucking bullshit! I told you not go. I begged you not to go, Astraea but what did you do? Huh?” He is angry and out of nowhere, he punches the steering wheel and I whip my head to look at him, realizing then that we have stopped at the same drive through that Noah stopped by Monday morning.

  We are in line but I don’t care if anyone sees or hears us, which is stupid because Ace’s car has tinted windows and I doubt anyone can hear the venom in his voice or the scratchy, pathetic brokenness in mine.

  It’s volatile in here, it almost feels like a volcano just met a tornado and we are about to burst and blow up so violently, like nothing else in this world.

  “You fucking told me to go!” I shout at him, looking at him with murder in my eyes and all the pain in the world that I just can’t hide, anymore. “You caused all of my fucked up and now you can’t handle it? And who the fuck put you in charge of me? I don’t need you to save me! All you have ever done is destroy me, break me apart inch by agonizing inch!”

  “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize that you were the only one to suffer these past few years. Don’t put your addiction fuckery on it though, that’s pathetic.”

  His tone is bored, rough and even as he looks at me. I hate that I can’t see the look in his eyes but something in me is pleased about that. I don’t want to know, I don’t want to see the disgust in his eyes, knowing that I’m not like other girls. Knowing that I’m so damn damaged.

  “You are such an asshole!” I spit and he looks at me with a hard, yet confusingly sexy, unamused smile.

  “Is that something that surprises you? I never claimed to be a saint, Blue Star.”

  “And I never asked to be your fucking responsibility. You told me to leave, and my being back has nothing to do with just how many orgasms you can give me in a night. Newsflash assshat, you are not the only one that can do that.”

  “What the fuck does that mean?” He is so still, doesn’t move an inch as he stares straight ahead but I make it a point not to be affected by the anger I can hear in his voice.

  “It means just that. And don’t pretend to care now. You made it pretty clear that you didn’t want me to stay.” I know that it’s really shitty for me to say that now, but I can’t forget what happened that day at that fucked up hospital. He just left and I woke up to see a face that I never liked and even though he didn’t know what exactly had happened to me that night four years ago, something in me wants to hurt him now that he knows.

  I’ve got issues.

  “What the fuck does that mean? You left on your own. You packed all your shit in that damn hospital and the next thing you did, after telling Emmett and Noah that you would be staying at my house until your place was redone, you left!”

  We are both heaving and looking at each other like we want to tear each other apart. “You up and left with no care in the world!”

  He eases the car forwar
d and I think he is about to order but instead the cashier or whoever she is passes Ace the tray with four coffees and a box with donuts and then a strawberry danish is placed in my hands out of nowhere. And she also did it with a sly smile on her face in my direction and a wink in Ace’s. Did he fuck her too? Un-fucking-believable!

  “Eat, you haven’t eaten in a while. The sugar will help.”

  But I am beyond reason. I open the window and chuck away the danish as we pull back into the road to school. “I don’t fucking care about any fucking food!”

  I want to tell him so much in that moment. I want to fucking scream until he realizes that he—and the boys—were my entire life. Every single part of my life literally revolved around them. All of them, George, Noah, Emmett and yes, Ace.

  “You think I wanted any of this? You think I wanted to break my brother’s heart by not being there to watch him play baseball, his dream since forever! You think I wanted to miss my best friend, Noah after he lost his brother? Do you fucking think that I didn’t want to be with Emmett or that I wouldn’t think that he would need me too?”

  My voice breaks and I break down in the car as angry tears start pouring down. I furiously wipe away the tears but they keep coming. Ace doesn’t deserve my tears and I fucking knew better than to kiss him back. I knew better than to tolerate him around me.

  Now I’m nothing but a fucked up mess, without my pills to alleviate the situation and his stony expression hidden behind those freaking aviators!

  Maybe it’s the lethal combination of the drug withdrawals or the hunger, or what happened last night or the fucking tone of indifference in his voice. I don’t fucking know, but I literally break down in that car and I let it all go. I cry in front of the one person who has caused me and my heart so much torment, bullied me when were younger, but never, not once, caused me to cry.

  Ace tormented me my entire life in Westbrook but like he said all those years ago, my tears are sometimes self caused or someone else would have caused them. In all the times that he has bullied me, I never cried, whenever I did cry, it wasn’t directly because of him. But now, it’s all his fault!