Hate So Good: A High School Bully Romance (The Hate Series Book 2) by Nina Lincoln (best fiction books to read txt) 📕

Teddy’s pretty jade eyes soften, “I know Finn. I heard she went home with Colt. You okay with that?”

Smiling tremulously, I hide my displeasure, annoyed by Teddy for the first time since I met him all those months ago. It’s like he’s trying to get under my skin tonight.

Although, to be fair, he doesn’t know about our scheme to get to Tiffany. From his perspective, it looks like Colt moved on disgustingly quickly.

“It is what it is,” I say grimly, “listen, I’ve got to go, talk later, okay?”

“Okay, Finn, be safe.”

Closing my phone, I find Melissa on the back porch smoking a cigarette. “Since when do you smoke?” I ask with surprise, stepping out beside her.

She grunts, turning to me with a weird expression, and when she says nothing, I finally break. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing.”

“Melissa…” I say with exasperation.

She flicks the cigarette into the grass and stomps past me into the house. “I gotta go.”

“Okay, are you sure there’s nothing wrong?”

Stopping abruptly at the door, she says to the wood. “Maybe it was a bad idea to involve the others.”

“With our plan?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, why?”

“Because nothing is ever as it seems, Finn. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“What do you mean?” I whisper.

“I mean, maybe this is all a game too? You know. Maybe…” she sighs and shakes her head. “Never mind, I gotta go.”

With that, she goes, and I’m left staring after her bewildered and hurting. Does she think the stalking shit is part of the guy’s game?

*****

After brooding the better part of the weekend, I leave the house, which I know is foolish, but I’m fucking going crazy.

The only other place I can think of that’s safe to go is the bookstore Colt’s mom owns. Yes, this may be a pathetic attempt to see him, but it’s also sheer desperation, I can’t stay in the house for a moment longer.

Pulling up to the shop, I enter the store cautiously and round a corner, immediately easing. Celia’s efforts to make the bookstore charming soothes something in my soul.

Dad never approved of color or happiness. Everything had to be in order, and he raged if it wasn’t. With its mismatched furniture and haphazard shelving, this store is the antithesis and makes me happy as a result.

Sitting down on a long couch next to a funky table, I pull a book about horticulture in my lap and mindlessly turn the pages. Now that I’m here, I’m afraid to know if Colt is, because if he’s not, then where is he? And with whom?

Thankfully, I’m left alone, and I presume whoever is on duty is somewhere in the back. After a while, I doze, which may sound strange, but I feel safe here where I’m always waiting for the other shoe to drop at home.

When the door chimes announcing the arrival of a customer, I jerk awake, glancing around sheepishly.

“What are you doing here?” I recognize Colt’s deep voice, the tone icy as he greets whoever just came through the door.

“Where’s Trent?” a woman asks, just as coldly.

“How the fuck should I know?”

“Don’t speak to me that way, you little shit. I’m tired of your attitude. Where have you been?”

“Around, look, what do you want?” he asks bitterly.

“I’d like to speak to my husband. I know he’s here. Send him out.”

“Look,” Colt says warily, “he’s not here.”

“Listen,” she says, her tone low, “I know it was you that beat up Buck. You better watch yourself. You’re not fucking special, no matter the circumstances. Stay away from him, or I’m going to make your life miserable.”

“You already are,” he sneers.

Easing from the couch, I peek around the corner as surreptitiously as possible. An icy blonde stands before Colt, staring at him with derision. She’s dressed impeccably from head to toe in designer clothes - her feet encased in the highest heels I’ve ever seen on a woman. Her posture is ramrod straight, and even her hair is tucked back in a bun obediently.

I recognize her icy expression from the pictures I revealed at prom, although she looks a little older and icier. This is Colt’s stepmom or whatever.

“I think you need a reminder of who’s in charge here,” she says.

“Fuck you and him too. Maybe he shouldn’t try raping girls then,” Colt sneers.

She gasps, her head rearing back. “You little shit. Don’t forget who holds all the cards here. I can destroy your mother like this,” she says, snapping her fingers.

Silence reigns after her pronouncement. I can’t see Colt’s face, but I presume he’s gracing her with his coldest demeanor, the one that always freezes me out. Although this bitch gives him a run for his money.

Jesus. What a supremely fucked up family...families. Ugh.

Why is she here? And why would she show up at her husband’s second wife’s place of business all nonchalant? This is some weird shit.

“Just remember what I said. Don’t fucking speak, don’t try to intervene, do as your told, and stay the fuck away from my son. Trash like you should be taken out.”

Wincing at the familiar slur, spoken straight from her wicked son’s mouth, I watch open-mouthed as she stalks out, her back ramrod straight, ignoring me as she passes.

Once the door flips open and closes with a whoosh, I shrink away, hoping Colt doesn’t see me. I suspect this isn’t something he would want to share.

An ache fills my chest for her, even though she’s a bitch, and for Colt and his mom - this is a cluster of epic proportions, and there is no right way out for any of them.

Slinking back to my bag, I freeze when Colt says, “You can come out now.”

With a sheepish look, I peer around the corner and step into his sight. He’s waiting for me with a grim expression, but I can tell he doesn’t really see me, just the nasty woman who threatened him and left on a tide of cold air.

“So that was rich bitch?” I whisper.

His eyes