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

  I’m this way all because of Westbrook and I just want to go. I take out my phone—a phone that I only ever used to talk to George—and go to my browser. I need to get a ticket for tonight. I don’t care about anything else, I just want to go.

  Just as my search results come up, my phone is snatched from my hands and then it’s shoved into Ace’s pocket.

  “What the bloody hell? Give that back!” I demand, my palms are sweaty and I feel the onset of anxiety coming.

  Feeling and knowing that I’m in control of my comings and goings is another crucial aspect that I was taught and right now I need my phone because I know I’m about to lose it. I need the security it gives me, assuring me that I am somewhat connected to the world and that I can go or leave any place at any time that I so desire but Ace is making that difficult right now.

  “Running away won’t help you now.” He says, looking at me head on and my breath hitches. There are so many emotions that flush in his eyes, I can’t pick the dominating factor. There is anger, there is hate, there is restlessness. There is lust. . .

  “You don’t get to tell me what to do.” I grit out. From the corner of my eye, I watch as people begin rising, I guess it’s time to go. There isn’t an open casket for obvious reasons.

  “You should have stayed away from this place, Star.” He says with a quiet kind of pulsing power that intimidates me more than anything.

  “Give me my phone back.” I demand but he ignores me. Instead, he moves closer to me. I hold my breath, trying to calm down my racing heart. There is no danger here. I’m perfectly safe.

  I watch as Ace raises his thick arm and it wounds around my shoulders in one swift move and the next thing I know, he is leaning in. His breath tickles my ear and I don’t know why I start shivering, but I’m painfully aware of the fact that I’m having weird reactions to him. Again.

  Our gazes are somehow connected and I watch as he watches me. The way his icy gaze takes me in like he has been waiting a long time just to look at me. It makes me nervous because there is nothing particularly bubbly about it. There is nothing friendly about the way he looks at me.

  I can’t hold his gaze so I shut my eyes. I try to shut him out but to no avail. I’m hoping that there is no way he can see me now, see what lies within me but as always, hope fails me because it doesn’t matter if my eyes are open or not, Ace can see me.

  The one person who knew me, the one person who saw me is being laid to rest today and yet there is no rest here.

  I didn’t even pay attention the entire service because I can’t shake this nagging feeling that something is up here.

  Ace leans in, I can feel his lips skimming my temple, as if he is placing a kiss there, then I feel his lips, that are so perfectly kissable and cunning, skimming my earlobe. He hovers there, chuckling when I shiver, then in a deep throaty, menacing voice that I have never heard from him, giving me chills, he speaks. But it’s a sinister warning.

  “Stay away from Dereck. And don’t do what I know you want to do. Don’t dig around. Don’t make me have to stop you.”

  And just like that, he is gone. Gone as quietly as he came.

  MY BROTHER IS LAID to rest in the new area of the estates family burial plot that now has my family name on it. I don’t want to ask about it but I know that this somehow ties to my brother’s death.

  I stay at the burial site long after the last prayer. Long after the last person throws in the dust. Long after the flower wreathes are laid. I stay long after George’s friends, classmates and teammates leave.

  I stay long after my parents have left, long after the workers are done shoveling the earth to fill the deep, deep grave where my brother now lies. They told me they will put the stone in two days.

  I think I told them that I would be back for that or something. I don’t remember exactly. My brain has been buzzing with unresolved issues since the church. Warning me of the impending doom that is about to hit me in the night.

  I stay long after the sun has set low into the horizon. I can see the houses down in the valley light up for the evening, families going about their lives, preparing dinner tables, laughing and enjoying themselves—completely oblivious to the emptiness that has settled over the world. I stay right beside my brother’s grave, with the wind rushing through my hair.

  I simply stay.

  I vaguely remember this feeling, this fresh air that rushes around the mountains. It’s cooler obviously but the air is much fresher. I remember George and I used to joke that Westbrook Blues smells like fresh money and old secrets. I guess he was right, there are secrets here.

  “George. You were the only piece of me left to go after. . .after everything that happened before.” I start as I look out at the valley, sitting right beside my brother’s grave. I don’t bother looking at the other graves from the other families because that doesn’t concern me.

  “You and only you held me together. I remember the reassuring smile that you gave me when all I wanted—all I felt—was dying. All I wanted at that time was to die and I think you knew that. But you just smiled at me.”

  I can feel the tears falling down my cheeks but this time, I just let them go.

  “I told myself that I had to keep going if only to see that smile on your ridiculously handsome face. Because, I mean, you were the one with the biggest, brightest smile.”

  I smile as I remember the arguments that we would have when were younger—back when life was easy and everything was still just like summertime. George would say he had the best smile and I would counter him at each turn, arguing that since I was a girl, I automatically had the best, sweetest smile. But even back then, I always knew, he had the best smile. I mean, he did spend a lot of time doing just that.

  “Oh man, I used to hate those smug smiles when you would win at all the games we played.” I can feel my cheeks rising in a sad smile, thinking back to the memories that we made over the years. “You remember that time we used to fight over who would switch off the bedroom light when we used to share the room before we came out here? I used to hate the way you would brush your teeth faster than me and you would be under the covers before I even rinsed my mouth—forcing me to switch off the light and walking in the dark after that.”

  I laugh as I think back to the memory. Man, I used to be so afraid of the dark. It used to terrify me but now, the darkness is all that’s around me. The darkness is what’s familiar about this life and somehow, it’s deeper, much darker than before. And this town doesn’t help much to alleviate the discomfort.

  “I remember the day you bought those glow in the dark stars and placed them all around the room.” I remember that day with a fond happiness. We had just moved in to the huge old house, right next door to Noah Monreal’s huge estate and I was terrified of sleeping in my own room, literally shaking but George came in my room with these blue little stars that glowed in the dark and I fell in love with them instantly. “And that’s the day Dad was home, Mum was over the moon and they explained what my name means.”

  Astraea, I loved the way George would say it. He pronounced it as Ah-stra-uh. But I much preferred being called Raea—it was much cooler and everyone at school and the boys used it. Back when I didn’t mind being envied and popular in school.

  “I hate my name now, George. That’s what I wanted to tell you the next time we would speak.” I shake my head, trying to rub at the twisting pain in my chest, knowing that I will never ever hear his deep voice again. That I will never talk to my best friend. “There is no peace here, there is no peace in my heart, George. There has not been any peace of justice anywhere since that night when. . .”

  I take a harsh breath to try and calm down and ease the torrent of tears.

  “I fight each day with the rising of the sun. Sometimes I can’t even get up and I wish so damn hard that it would all end. Sometimes I’m in so deep in there that I just. . . Fuck!”

  I stand now with agitation springing me into action because I can’t keep still anymore. I
know tomorrow is another day and I need answers, and I’m going to fight to get them.

  “It shouldn’t be you in this fucking grave and I’m going to find out who put you in there. You are the reason I’m here—in this hellhole—and I will damn well make sure that you actually rest in peace not what these assholes were saying all day.” I spit out, feeling my anger rise as I think back to the procession of the day and all the useless condolences that mean absolutely nothing. Condolences that won’t bring my brother back at all. I look down at his grave with so much contempt, anger and downright hate. It shouldn’t be George in there! It just shouldn’t be.

  I guess at the end of it all, we will all be dust, but it wasn’t his time. I just know it deep in my soul.

  “I hate promises.” I say, swallowing the tears and clearing my throat. I fucking hate promises, having heard them one time in my life only for them to be broken.

  “I don’t care for them but I know you valued a person’s word and their follow through so here is my promise to you.” I kneel back down at his grave and look at the flowers and shit. “I’m going to find out what happened to you. And I’m going to make whoever it is suffer. You protected me since we were babies, it’s time I did that for you.” I solemnly vow.

  “Something doesn’t feel right about all of this fuckery but for now, I’ll go back to London but I’ll be back.” I tell him. I need to wean of those damn pills and then I’ll be back.

  It’s hard saying goodbye. But I have to get this right.

  “I love you. Forever twin turbo.” I say with a sad, throaty chuckle, thinking of how we used to introduce ourselves.

  And with that, I start walking back home, completely unaware of the three sets of eyes that have been watching me all this time.

  CHAPTER SIX

  ACE

  “WELL, FUCK!” NOAH ROARS as soon as we make sure that Astraea is out of hearing distance, watching her walk home, her head held low with tears streaming down her cheeks in the late evening breeze.

  I fucking hate those damn tears, but I can’t do anything about that right now.

  “She’s fucking right! George shouldn’t be in a fucking box, being buried like he meant nothing at all!” Noah roars again as Emmett and I start walking towards the grave where she just was, crying her heart out. I can’t describe just how fucked up that made me feel inside, how fucked up it is that one of my brothers is in the ground like this!

  “He was too good for this life anyway.” Emmett says quietly, looking back to where Star disappeared, then back to the fresh grave with shitty, over the top flowers that I know for a fact George never cared for.

  The fact that Noah, Em and I were not even part of his funeral—officially—that's just fucked up.

  “The son of a bitch hated funerals.” Noah says with a shake of his head, frustration marring his features. We are all angry and seeing Star just now, that was the final nail to the coffin.

  We are being picked apart, hunted down and whoever is responsible for that has managed to have us all in one place, first step in doing so—eliminate the glue that kept us all connected—fucking George.

  “She knows.” I say after a while, thinking back to every word she uttered. I knew she wasn’t going to just leave when the funeral was done and George was lowered into the ground. And I also know that this will not be the last time that she will be here.

  “Wait, how can she possibly know after being here less than twenty-four hours?” Noah exclaims, spreading his arms out wide. He is beyond frustrated, angry and strung up so tight. Between losing a brother and Star coming back, it’s been a shitty day. And then there was the bit where I was in her face. I could see that the spark in her eyes that she once had is long gone, the fire in her eyes is different—so much wilder and untamed this time around. She looks different too and seeing her face to face was the biggest kick to my balls.

  Her stunning beauty is much more amplified and something tells me that she doesn’t even know that. She wasn’t even aware of just how much attention she had on her at that church, everyone watching her like she is the angel of darkness. That very darkness in her eyes. There was so much I wanted to say and then so much to see. She is much more than I first thought and much more complicated this time around, but whatever, I have all the time in the world to get her back, allow her to unleash all that anger that she holds on to so tightly.

  “She’s smart. And besides, they shared a connection that was so strong, of course she would suspect.” Em answers Noah after a pause. She is fucking smart, too smart for her own good and it pisses me of that she is back but I knew she would be.

  “She asked me what happened to George when we were at the church.” I tell my brothers after a while of just looking down at the grave. Just that question alone stopped my heart, it was the first time I knew that she somehow knew that George didn’t just die in a car accident as they told her. I knew she was going to start questioning everything but I somehow thought that she would do that later when school started at the very least, allowing her to grieve for today before I started breaking her again. Seeing her was painful in its own way but I don’t fucking care anymore. She means nothing but at the same time, I need to keep her close. Whoever killed George is still out there and will swing back around—I just need to be ready for that outcome.

  And that also means I would inevitably have to be ready for the hell she is prepared to raise, especially after she finds out that she is not going anywhere.

  “Fuck! I need a drink and a blunt for all this bullshit.” Noah says and I agree with him.

  “Good thing then, I bought all the booze and some weed that I was going to stash at the safe house.” Em informs.

  “Yeah, I could use some of that.” Noah says and walks back to Emmett’s car that’s parked in the shadows, away from the burial plot.

  “She said she wants to go back.” Emmett’s quiet voice reaches my ears as we watch Noah disappear into the darkness and I let out a heavy sigh. We all heard the vow she made in her shaky voice, filled with tears and snort, but it was a vow none the less. I don’t fucking care if she wants to go back, she isn’t going anywhere. Not while there is still breath in my lungs.

  “That’s not happening.”

  “She’s going to fight it.”

  “Yeah, but she won’t pass up an opportunity to bring justice to her brother.” I say just as Noah comes back and passes me a blunt and Emmett the bottle of Jack. Some hard stuff but whatever, it’s been a much harder year. I light up the blunt and smoke the good stuff, knowing that it won’t do a damn thing to dull or numb the twisting in me. I feel unsettled, off-balance and so damn angry, it almost makes me wish I was somewhere else, doing something else.

  “I need to get laid.”

  That comes from Noah unsurprisingly and I shake my head. On any other day, having my dick sucked by some overeager and willing girl that only wants to use me—would have been appealing but since this new year started, nothing has ever felt right. By the time summer started, I’ve had little to zero interest in these plastic, fake bitches of Westbrook. Their sights are always set on my brothers and I. While Noah does his best to please them, using them in the process, Emmett is choosy and doesn’t indulge much and as for George, him and Noah were soul brothers. They understood each other in a way but even then, there was always something missing.

  Her.

  “You just got your dick sucked after the church thing, by the way, that kid Myers is a fucking tool!” Emmett grunts in frustrations.

  “I know! And he had the audacity to talk about George like he knew him when he knew shit! Fucking ass kisser!” Noah spits and then smokes a blunt and chases that with the jack and then passes it to Em who takes a swig and then to me and I repeat the notion. We did this very thing when she left, but back then it was the four us under the dark sky with a few stars in the fucking sky. And we were all fucking breathing and now, it’s not the same and she is back.

  “Dereck is going to be a problem.” E
mmett states when I pass him back the bottle and I smoke my blunt. Yeah, that kid is going to be a problem for sure. “Did you see the way he was eyeing Raea?”

  “Yeah, I saw that shit too. I bet he is weaving a web of lies right now, getting ready to sink his claws into her the moment she goes to school with us next week. And that’s assuming she does stay.”

  “She will come to school. As for Myers, we need to make sure we weave a web of our own.” I state, mulling over the options.

  “Run me this then.” Noah starts, puffing out a cloud of smoke. “Everyone, and I do mean everyone, is going to be talking about Raea at school. I mean, you saw that shit already at the damn church. They are going to link it all to George and what then?”

  “She will hear exactly what we want her to hear, everything that we planted since winter break.” I say.

  “Which is?” He prompts and I roll my eyes.

  “Which is that the Blue Boys broke up and we fought a lot, until George no longer hung out with us.” Emmett clarifies.

  “Yeah, but how many of those mother fuckers will believe that? Shit, my man and I went everywhere together and we fucked Cindy and her sister two weeks ago.”

  “You mean Mindy and her mother, Cindy?” Emmett says with a raised eyebrow.

  “Oh shit, that was her mother? Ah, it all makes sense now. She was asking a lot about your Dad, Em.”

  “She can have the bastard for all I care.” Emmett grits out angrily then proceeds to chug almost a third of the bottle. Emmett’s father is a real piece of work, just as big a tool as the man that calls himself my father.

  “That doesn’t matter, as far as the school is concerned, George wasn’t our brother anymore.” I interrupt before Noah can start rattling off about some random girls and their mothers that he has banged.

  “You think she’ll believe that?” Noah asks after a long while of just passing the bottle and smoking. I know by now she must be home and struggling to sleep—I know she has insomnia, much like myself—but she decided to deal with that in a much aggressive way. I know she is taking those fucking pills again but one problem at a time. I’ll get to that later.