Hate So Good: A High School Bully Romance (The Hate Series Book 2) by Nina Lincoln (first color ebook reader .txt) 📗

Tiptoeing the opposite direction, I trail my hand against the wall as a guide, tripping over something on the floor and freezing when my shoes squeak loudly against the linoleum.

Fuck. Panic rolls down my spine painfully as I wait for Ben to jump out at me at any moment, terror causing me to breathe so heavily I can hear myself panting.

Slowly I start moving again, sweat trickling down my back as I ease along the floor, afraid to make any sound. I need a phone. I need an exit. I need out of this fucking nightmare.

Finally, my trembling fingers meet the lip of a door, and I slide around until I find the knob, but it’s locked, and with a low moan, I keep going, my hands running over a poster before finding the cool wall again.

Something whines behind me, and I freeze, slowly plastering myself against the wall again. I’m shaking so badly it’s a wonder I can stand at all, my heart pounding so fiercely, I can feel it in my aching skull.

After what feels like hours, I turn back to my quest when nothing emerges, trying three more rooms, my hands brushing over more posters, a light switch, and a fire alarm before I find one unlocked.

Pausing for a moment, I glance back at the wall, which is stupid - I can’t technically see much of anything. Whatever.

With a deep breath, I fumble with the fire alarm, cursing when it doesn’t fucking work.

Desperately, I wrench on the damn handle and jump a foot even though I know the damn thing is going to be loud when the harsh wail blares overhead.

Glancing behind me frantically, I slip into the classroom, closing the door behind me and locking it before backing away slowly.

I hit a few desks and stumble before finding the opposite wall. It’s lighter in here near the windows, and sliding down the wall, I stare at the door until sirens sound in the distance.

*****

Maggie sits beside me with a grim expression while I lay shivering in the hospital bed and stare at the ceiling. I can’t stop. I’m cold, so cold.

The cops just left, and I answered all their questions, including my interaction with Sarah and my fan’s words. Through it all, Maggie was silent.

I haven’t spoken to Colt, and beyond asking Maggie to let him know I’m okay, I haven’t asked. I’m reeling under the information spewed by my psychopathic fan, running over the cruel words over and over. Obviously, he’s jealous of Colt and me, beyond his nefarious plans. I just wish I knew what they were.

And I don’t know what to think regarding what he said about Colt, but clearly, he’s heard the words Colt has spoken to me before, which reminds me that Sarah said them as well when she was ranting at me with the knife.

Colt told me the first time we were together that I was the light to his darkness. At the time, it made me feel special, and now I just don’t know.

Could Colt be playing me still? To what end? It doesn’t make sense. He’d have to be truly fucked in the head.

But then where did my fan hear it? Portia, Sarah?

Is it possible Colt’s still playing a game?

I don’t know, and my mind is so fucked I can’t see my way past everything to what’s real. Because if this is a game, Colt will never admit it, not if he’s still sick enough to be playing it out.

Turning to my side, I sigh and close my eyes, the tears I’ve been holding back sliding down my cheeks silently.

I love him. But maybe he doesn’t love me.

“Kid, I think it’s time we consider sending you away,” Maggie says softly.

“To where?” I ask numbly.

“Anywhere, but here.”

I open my mouth to argue but close it with a snap. Maybe I do need to leave. I’ve battled nothing but heartache since I came to this place but will leaving change my fan’s mind?

“What if whoever this is, follows me?”

“Well, I guess I don’t know. Frankly, I assumed it was a student.”

“I think it is, maybe. But Maggie, whoever this is, they’ve had multiple people working for them. I’m scared. What if it doesn’t matter where I go?”

She sighs and shifts in her seat, “We’ll figure it out, kid.”

Right. Grimly I smile. The only way to figure any of this out is to confront whoever it is and bring them down. Otherwise, my life will just be a series of playing hide while this fucker seeks.

*****

I’m released the following day. I don’t have my phone. I left it at the table when I went to the bathroom. Foolish. I should’ve never left the table alone.

Standing in the threshold of my room, I stare around at my belongings, disgust rolling through me. How many times has he been in my room?

How many people have lied to me since I came here? Who can I trust? What’s real and what’s fake? Everything feels like a fucking lie.

With a weird pulse in my chest, I pull down a poster I brought from my old room and halfheartedly hung here to make me feel closer to home. Next comes a string of lights hanging over my bureau. Everything comes down as I rip it apart with my hands and throw it to the floor.

It's all meaningless. It’s all a fucking lie. This place. These feelings. Me. A fucking lie.

What if he searched through my drawers? What if he touched my underthings?

Raging through the room, I grab my clothes from my closet and toss them to the floor where shoes, jackets, and dresses, lie in a heap, the colors mocking me.

My sheets, comforter, and pillows follow. The stupid stuff I’ve collected over the last few months, extra coins, a receipt, a bottle cap, and more, slide to the floor with a thump. The prom crown hits the wall and shatters, my triumph at beating Sarah feeling brutal in the wake of her possible