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

  RECKLESS H A T E

  WESTBROOK BLUES #1

  THANDIWE MPOFU

  COPYRIGHT & LICENSE

  Copyright © 2019 by Thandiwe Mpofu

  All rights reserved. No parts of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, scanning or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written consent of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted under copyright law.

  This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations and incidents are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, locales or events is entirely coincidental.

  Reckless Hate, Westbrook Blues Book 1

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Quote

  Playlist

  Author’s Note

  Warning

  “Deep always calls unto deep. The results? Reckless Hate & Catastrophe” | Synopsis

  PROLOGUE

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  So, The End?

  Keep in Touch

  Acknowledgements

  Other books by

  Quote

  “If you surrendered to the air, you could ride it.”

  Toni Morrison

  Playlist

  “Fire on Fire” by Sam Smith

  “What Now” by Rihanna

  “U Say” by The Bonfyre ft 6Black

  “Desperado” by Rihanna

  “Not In That Way” by Sam Smith

  “When The Party Is Over” by Billie Eilish

  “Older” by Sasha Sloan

  “Jealous” by Labrinth

  “What A Time” by Julia Michaels ft Niall Horan

  “Iris” by Goo Goo Dolls

  “Kiss It Better” by Rihanna

  “Hostage” by Billie Eilish

  “Falling Like The Stars” by James Arthur

  “i love you” by Billie Eilish

  “Seasons” by 6lack & Khalid

  Author’s Note

  I tried to be as authentic and as real as I could with this story. I hope you receive it with sincerity.

  Thank you for choosing to read Reckless Hate.

  Warning

  This story has particular scenes that may trigger psychological, emotional lapses and should not be read by persons younger than the age of eighteen years old.

  If at all you or anyone you know suffers or is going through some of the issues & challenges you might come across in this story, please seek help. You matter and I see you♥

  “Deep always calls unto deep. The results? Reckless Hate & Catastrophe”

  Synopsis

  Westbrook had four boys that ruled my life once.

  They were hell raisers.

  Cunning Athletes.

  Skilled Manipulators.

  Hateful Assholes.

  Gorgeous gods.

  Heartbreakers.

  Only I never counted on them breaking my heart as savagely as they did, sending me away when I needed them the most. Making me spiral into a vicious abyss of darkness where I’m haunted by a pair of frosty blue eyes filled with hate.

  But now I’m back and this time around. For a reason that makes breathing almost completely impossible.

  And if they think I won’t get revenge for my brother—one of the Blue Boys—then they have another kind of hell to face.

  Because I’m no longer their little Blue girl from four years ago. . .

  PROLOGUE

  FOUR YEARS AGO. . .

  Dread fills my bones, fear attacks me and grips me by my throat. I can’t breathe. My vision is hazy, but then again maybe it’s because I’m drunk, but I remember specifically choosing cola and not touching any alcohol, even the wine coolers that Brittney brought to the party. But either way, I can’t see.

  “Please.”

  Tears start falling down my cheeks like a torrent of rushing water and my voice is shaky, hoarse and so damn small. I know even if I do scream, no one would hear me. There is no one currently in the house apart from myself and this, this. . .stranger. The next house is at least half a mile over. Stupid estates and their damn huge mansions.

  “Please leave me alone.” I cry out, backing away and into a corner. Heavy breathing is what greets me and then the smell of smoke—not just any smoke, tobacco. My father smokes that when he is with his friends but I know this intruder is not my father since my father left two days ago with my mother for something that I never bothered to know about or understand. Why would I when I was looking forward to attending my first teenage party? The best party of the year where everyone, and I mean everyone important and popular in Westbrook would be in attendance to ascertain the ever fun and ongoing social power struggle for teenage superiority, and I was going to ascertain my place once and for all. At least that’s what I thought the night would bring.

  But this, this kind of danger, I never anticipated this. I am not one of those girls in the news or in books that falls victim to all sorts of vultures and predators. My heart pounds painfully in my ears, I’m soon out of space and I’m now plastered to a wall.

  “Beautiful, vivacious young Astraea.” The man starts with a tone of voice that awakens goosebumps and shivers all over my body—the kind that alert of an impending disaster. “I guess it’s my lucky day. I didn’t think you would come back early. That drug must have worked faster than I thought.” The man says, ignoring my pleas.

  He drugged me? He has been waiting for me? Was he at the party? How did I not sense that I was being watched? How did I not see him?

  “My father has money! I can give it to you. Please.” I plead and then the mysterious man with a ski mask on his face begins to laugh, hard. His throaty ugly laugh grates my ears and shocks me with its genuineness. Like, he was truly laughing. However ugly it was, anyway.

  “You are so stupid and naïve thinking your father could give me what I lost.” He says and my gaze frantically searches the room for anything, any weapon that I can use to defend myself and escape.

  “He is very rich, please let me go.” I stammer, the pitch of my voice becoming higher as the man advances and then in a sudden move he pins me to the wall. With his large, fully grown male body. My panic becomes full-blown now, the realization of danger now ripe in the stale air filled with the harsh remnants of tobacco.

  My entire body cringes. I feel like I’m going to
vomit. He smells so bad, like a rodent crawled up his body, straight into his mouth and died in there, what with that thunderous breath. He leans into my ear to speak, my entire body shivers. I lift my arms from where they had helplessly fallen like deadweight, plant them on his chest and with all my might I start fighting like a banshee from hell. Because in that moment, I realize that I was now in the fight of my life.

  “I’ll make it quick. Who knows a rich bitch like you needs to loosen up. I can help with that.”

  “Get away from me! You are a sick asshole!” I shout and I guess that makes him angry because in two moves that I wasn’t anticipating, he steps back and with a force that knocks the wind from my lungs, strikes a blow across my face, knocking me off my feet and I fall to the hardwood floor in a pile of pain. I start coughing, choking on my own tears, spit and snot.

  “You think you are above me?” He shouts as I gasp in pain, struggling to breath but coiled deep in me was the need to do as much damage as I can on him and escape. With that in mind, I start crawling. I need to get out. This evil man with the rough, scratchy voice is not just going to hurt me, he intends to destroy me for whatever agenda that will appease him, but I won’t stand around like a hopeless damsel.

  “Do you honestly think that I’m just going to stand back in the great shadows of Westbrook and watch you shit all over my hard work?! I’ve worked so fucking hard for this town. I’ve done so many things for that despicable bastard that calls himself king over this town.” The man shouts and in my groans and moans of pain I allow him to speak, my gaze now trained on a lamp that sits on top of a table by the door. If only I can get to that. . .

  “After all the ground work I did, fucking a cold bitch like Denise, all of that and he thinks he can just use me and it will be all over? I don’t fucking think so!” He growls the words out so loud, like a possessed demon. I can hear him grunt, his focus not on me, probably because he thinks I’m useless and have no fight in me at this point, so as he starts pacing with long strides back and forth across the small room, I make my move. With every ounce of strength that I have in my body, I quickly stand up and leap, literally leap, for the lamp, grab it and in one fell swoop I do a one-eighty and bash his head with it. Shards and fragments of broken glass fall all over the floor as the man howls in pain.

  “You fucking bitch! I’m going to make you pay!”

  But I don’t stay to listen, I turn and with a burst of adrenaline, I throw open the door with so much force I know it probably is off one of the hinges and then I’m running. I scream as I run through the dark hallways, not stopping for anything.

  I can hear his pounding feet behind me, can feel him coming closer, gaining on me but I scream anyway, hoping that someone, anyone can hear me.

  As I run at top speed down the hall, my left leg missteps and I land on my ankle with such force and briskness that the pain is instant and intense. The pain breaks a part of my spirit because a part of me knows that I won’t make it out the front door, but the rest of me is fighting anyhow. Ignoring my ankle all together, I run towards the staircase, towards my escape. If I could just make it out the door. . .

  “You can’t run. I’ve waited long enough for you!” He shouts and then starts laughing, as if taunting his prey.

  But I run.

  I reach the stairs as quickly as I can manage with a definitely sprained ankle. I wobble, jump, and wobble down the stairs as fast as I can. My mind is racing. I’ve bitten my tongue after hurting my ankle so hard that I can taste the tangy metallic taste of blood in my mouth. Shivers and goosebumps are all over my skin and I can see my life flash right before my eyes in the dark.

  I have to escape.

  I have to run.

  I have to get help.

  I need my brother.

  I need my protector.

  I need Ace.

  I wobble down the stairs. I look over my shoulder and notice that the man isn’t even there anymore and that makes my stomach drop like a bag of cement. My heart pounds much faster. I can feel my eyes are wide open and getting dry because I haven’t blinked. I know he is somewhere but I’m not staying to find out where he is. Or who he is.

  So, I run and as I get to the last step and turn for the front door, I have no idea where he came from but he tackles me, actually tackles me like it’s a football game, and it’s rougher than ever. I scream in pain as my body slams into the hard floor, landing on my hip. I know my hip is bruised now making it difficult to fight but I won’t stop.

  “You have fire in you that sparkles in your eyes, did you know that?” The man says with a chuckle, straddling me like he just conquered me. I start kicking and screaming but I should have known that his attempt—or lack thereof—of stopping me from screaming meant that he was confident no one was around to hear what was going on.

  “I guess that’s why he favors you. He hates you, but he is so very much addicted to you.” The man says with an evil chuckle.

  “Go to hell.”

  “Oh, sweetheart I will, but first I’m going to enjoy what I know he wants more than anything in the world. I know even right now, he is dreaming about you, salivating about tormenting you to soothe his demons, demons that I gave him.” he says. “Pathetic, isn’t it?”

  I have no idea who he is talking about and I don’t care. He is delusional and I can see the glint of evil in his eyes and the hate. There is so much hate in his eyes which is how I know that he is going to destroy me.

  I fist both hands and punch him twice and then buck him off with all my core muscles and at the same time as he jostles, I slither my way from under him, then I’m on my feet, not bothering to look at him—which is probably my mistake—I run for the other door that leads outside but the man shouts in frustration and this time I know that the time for games is over.

  Before I can run further to the door, he stops me by grabbing my arms, twisting them with such viciousness that I scream in pain because he has just dislocated my arm, I realize. I let out a sound I have never made in my life, howling into the night as the pain intensifies throughout my entire body, from my dislocated and now useless arm.

  It’s too much, why is this happening to me? Is this some kind of a sick, twisted movie? And if so, where is the hero? Where is the knight is shining armor to save me from this kind of evil?

  “I’m going to put out that fire, something he will never do anyway.” He spits in my face and then he pushes me onto the floor, right in the middle of the great foyer of the house we moved into. I reach over and grab his mask and tear it with my other arm and he growls like a freaking tiger and but now I can see his face.

  I’ll never forget his face.

  He flips me over immediately and my limp body doesn’t even fight, bitterness sweeps through me as I anticipate his next move. I know I should fight but the pain. . .oh the gruesome pain that my body is in. My chest is pressed into the hard, cold floor, the heavy weight of the man on top of me, I can’t move at all.

  “Please, get off me.” I cry as I start pounding the hard floor with my arm that is still functioning for now. My tears, snot and spit falls all over the floor but I don’t care, in this moment my heart threatens to seize to work all together. My entire body is prickly, I feel like at any moment, I’m going to die.

  “This is for him. A message for him.”

  And with that he hikes up the short skirt I was wearing to the party earlier this evening, rips off my panties, ignoring my screams and my struggles as I put up a hell of a fight.

  “I’m only ever interested in the forbidden.” He says in my ear, his voice deeper this time, much more excited than before and I can feel his vile touch on my bare butt cheeks, rubbing softly. It makes me dry heave right there on the floor.

  “Best not delay.”

  With that, he pushes my legs open, spits on me and then I hear the tale tell sign of a zipper being opened and a belt buckle being undone. He groans but my scream covers that too, feeling like I’m going to pass out any moment now, then he pi
ns me down with his entire body over mine—a position that makes this violation that much gruesome and cruel—that I’m literally buried underneath him. Even if someone—anyone at all—were to came in, I know for a fact that no one would see me. He groans again in excited pleasure.

  “Please don’t do this. My father will kill you.” I cry and scream at the same time, terror filling my bones replacing all the hope I had that I might escape. I fight and try to buck him off my back, but there is no hope there either.

  My boys will kill you.

  Ace will kill you.

  But I don’t say that because a massive wave of pain hits me as I feel the man breach the untouched territory of my womanhood.

  He penetrates my back entrance.

  “No, sweetheart. It’s not your father’s attention that I want. But I think you should question if he is, indeed, your father.”

  A wave of pain hits me so hard that I scream and howl like a broken beast into the night as he grunts, groans and laughs, my body writhing in untold pain. I can feel a huge part of me dimming, no longer able to fight, its voice gone.

  And as I realize that no one will come for me, that part of me just. . .dies.

  CHAPTER ONE

  ASTRAEA

  Present day. . .

  I NEED A JOINT.

  Barely an hour of having touched down in Westbrook from London and my entire body is twitching with the need to turn and go back where I came from.

  I wonder if I can find a dealer here, there should be someone out here that can help me. After all, I think I’m not the only one with the desperate need to get loose and high just at the thought of dealing with this place.

  “Damn.” I sigh and think if only I was back home, this would have been much easier. My dealer on speed dial but where is home?

  Where is that exactly?

  Because once upon a time, this place, Westbrook Blues, was home. Once upon a time, I saw this wretched town as my home, even called it home after moving here. Once upon a time I found three boys that reigned supreme in this very town. Those three boys became part of my home, with my twin brother who I had never shared my entire life before moving to Westbrook. Once upon a time, those four boys were my entire life.