A Bad Boy's Untoward Hatred

prologue

It was the start of the wet season, but sweat was profusely dripping down the side of Jude’s face.

“Fag!” Sky’s shout reverberated through the hallway, sending an immediate jolt of shock and fear through him.

Students’ gazes and glares in the locker area flickered at him; his deep, intimidating voice always scared him—it sent millions of shivers racing up his spine, goosebumps over his skin, and a bolt of thunder waves under his chest.

Jude brisked his pace, practically running as fast as he could. Although his feet wobbled tremendously, he managed not to stumble.

As he passed the locker area, he instinctively tightened his grip around the strap of his worn black shoulder bag, slung across his chest and down his back.

Around him, judging eyes followed his every step, though such scrutiny was hardly unfamiliar amongst the privileged students of Lindaville University.

Jude’s body was trembling with such edginess as he made his way to the men’s bathroom.

Fortunately, there was no one else there, and he hoped that no one would ever find him as he locked the door in one of the cubicles.

He settled himself on the toilet seat cover and silently prayed that he had lost him.

There was a moment of cold silence. All he could sense was his shaky and heavy breathing, his sudden dysphagia, and the abnormal beating of his heart that wanted to make its exit through his mouth—which he simultaneously tried so hard to control.

Jude jumped off the lid when he heard the main door slam hard open. He immediately covered his ears with his hands, wishing that he could flush himself down the toilet and decompose like poop.

“So, you like playing hide and seek now, huh?” Jude caught his breath when Sky spoke.

Tears welled up in his eyes instantly. He leaned his head slightly against the wall to push the tears back behind his orbs as he covered his mouth with his hands to keep any potential sound from escaping.

“When did you start trying to avoid me, Jude?” Sky asked casually, though his tone carried a restrained anger and dismay that Jude had long learned to recognize.

Beneath the calm facade was the familiar edge of someone who could easily lose control. Jude knew him well enough to understand that, too. Jude hated it very much when Sky acted like that, because he knew it was the complete opposite.

Another moment of silence passed by, and the tension in the room only intensified.

“You come out, or I will break each of these doors and kill you?” he threatened.

Jude did not move, did not say a word, and forgot to breathe. He was filled with immense worry that he might hear his heartbeat instead, hammering like thunder under the fragility of his chest.

“Don’t let me count fag.” Sky seethed.

Jude knew all too well how impatient Sky Granger could be.

The eerie silence enveloped the cold area once again. The tension in the air seemed to echo between the four walls. For some reason, Jude found himself being unusually stubborn today, though he could not explain why.

“You already know how impatient I am.” Sky reminded him; his deep voice only worsened what Jude felt. “Okay, then. Let’s play.”

Perhaps people had been right all along. Perhaps he really was a masochist, because the first option seemed infinitely better than being killed by Sky Granger. Throughout the years, he seemed well-practiced at being that person, too.

“Five,” he started counting slowly, without asking permission if Jude wanted to partake in his invented game. “Four, three,” he continued with commanding authority.

Those seconds were like torture for Jude already. He curled up onto his knees in a fret, and tears now started to fall.

“What the hell comes into your mind that you feel like you can already do this?” Sky uttered in quiet disbelief. “Do you have the courage now to go against me?”

The sound of Sky’s black, low-cut leather shoes against the tiled floor only exacerbated the atmosphere. It had gotten louder with every taunting step he made, as if he really knew where Jude Finn was.

“Now, tell me!” he suddenly hollered.

A loud bang echoed in the restroom. Jude jumped out of his feet in terror when Sky effortlessly ripped the door from its hinges, even though he had made sure he double-locked it.

In his mind, maybe Sky had heard him holding his breath; otherwise, how could he have picked the right stall so easily?

Even in his situation right now, a small, irrational part of Jude’s mind fixated on that impossible first guess—that out of all the doors in the bathroom, Sky had found him on the very first attempt.

Was that what they call a gangster instinct?

“Fuck, Jude Finn!” Sky cursed angrily, staring deadly at Jude like he was some prey.

“You have the guts now to test my patience, you son of a bitch!” Sky shouted in wrath; veins on his nape and neck were about to pop out, and beads of sweat covered his face.

Sky raised his hand in the air, ready to hit him. Jude, with all his speed and well-adapted instinct, sprawled onto the untidy floor, and his hands were quick to cover his head in defense, as if it worked. He had done it multiple times before, but it did not.

Jude froze, waiting for what would dreadfully happen to him again. He was too scared to look at Sky. Never in his entire life would he dare to initiate eye contact with that evil gang leader. He could not stand him. He was evilly awful and unkind.

Jude waited. But there was nothing. There was no hand against his frame.

“Look at me,” Sky commanded authoritatively and spoke a little more modulated now.

Jude was compelled to look at him with great hesitation.

“Did you run away from me?” Sky asked, even if he knew the answer already.

Jude shivered at the sound of his voice.

“Did you just run away from me, Jude Finn?” Sky repeated the question, now much sterner and louder with conviction.

Jude slowly shook his head in response.

“Use your fucking mouth and answer me!” Sky suddenly yelled right in his face, making him flinch in fright.

“I w-asn’t.” Jude stuttered as he cried.

Sky tightened his grip on the collar and yanked him to his feet.

Before Jude could steady himself, Sky’s large hand clamped around his jaw, his fingers swallowing his face.

With an unyielding grip, he forced Jude to face him.

Jude, however, refused to meet his gaze.

He kept his eyes fixed stubbornly to the side, avoiding the fury burning in Sky’s eyes.

“I’ll ask you again,” Sky said, his voice low yet dangerous. “Did you just run away from me?”

“I d-idn’t.”

Jude let out a painful sob as Sky’s hand dug into his face. The crushing pressure against his hand sent a searing ache through his jaw and bruised his gums.

“Look at me,” Sky commanded.

Jude never hesitated to comply because he knew that if he refused now, Sky would twist his head easily.

“Tell me honestly, are you avoiding me?”

Jude was so stunned to speak. Sky’s words coming out of his mouth fanned his face due to their proximity, leaving him breathless.

“No,” Jude answered.

“Are you fucking sure you are not avoiding me?” Sky asked again and studied his face closely.

They stared into each other’s eyes at a standard heart rate per minute. Both were tongue-tied, traveling somewhere deep in their souls.

“I was not avoiding you.” Jude lied.

Sky was slightly taken aback as he blinked several times. Their proximity somewhat made him lose his composure.

“Then, good boy,” Sky uttered.

A familiar feeling recurred in his stomach, which he did not ever want to recognize.

He let go of Jude’s crumpled collar and took a step back.

Breaking eye contact, he reached out to harshly ruffle Jude’s hair.

Then, without warning, he delivered a brutal blow to his stomach, leaving him doubled over and gasping in agony.

“You better not try running away from me, Jude Finn…” he warned. “And don’t ever try to abstain from class again.”

Sky gritted his teeth, delivering a heavy kick to Jude’s stomach before turning to leave. Jude’s body collided with the concrete, the impact sending a jolt of anguish through his back. He was left sprawled helplessly on the grimy, dirty, white-tiled floor, blindly groping for his shattered glasses.