Beautiful Hate (Gods of Ruin MC #1)

Chapter 1

Twelve years old

Rap music penetrates my foggy brain, the words bouncing around the box they shoved me into.

I groan, my joints stiff and screaming from being folded into myself like trash in a compactor.

My mind drifts between consciousness and oblivion, making it impossible to tell one moment from the next.

Minutes, hours, days—I have no clue how much time has passed.

I crack my gritty eyes open to darkness. Panic sets in, clawing at my chest until every breath burns.

You’re okay. You’re okay. You’re okay.

I chant in my head over and over again, trying to steady my ragged breathing. Then I hear laughter. Hers.

Brandi. My tormentor. The daughter of my mother’s latest boyfriend. At sixteen, she’s sadistic and rotten to the core, with a smile that promises pain. I was mesmerized by her beauty, but soon enough, I found out she was venom wrapped in sweetness.

After just two weeks of dating, my mother invited them to move into our cramped, one-bedroom trailer.

No warning. I came home one day, and they were already here.

Brandi got the couch, and I was demoted to a blanket on the stained carpet.

That was nearly three months ago. She swears Merle’s “the one.” But he’s the fifth “one” this year.

I’ll give their relationship another month. Katherine “Kitty” Hendricks isn’t satisfied unless there’s a man in her life. I’ve never been a priority for her. Just dead weight she complains about every chance she gets.

More often than not, it’s just Brandi and me. Mom and Merle disappear for days, sometimes weeks, at a time. No calls. No texts. No money left for groceries. Not a single thought given for the children they left behind.

That’s when things go from bad to worse. Brandi and her friends go on days-long benders—hardcore drugs, endless liquor, and reckless hookups everywhere you look.

I survive it all. Barely.

This time, I’m not so sure. Brandi found out about my claustrophobia and ordered her friends to stuff me in the trunk at the foot of my mother’s bed. I don’t think I can last much longer.

I’ve hated tight spaces ever since I was four years old.

My mother’s boyfriend at the time would lock me in an old freezer in his garage. When he was really pissed, he’d turn it on.

At least in the freezer, I was safe from his beatings. He’d use anything within arm’s reach on my tiny body. Belt, hammer, frying pan, baseball bat, hanger—it didn’t matter. I should be dead, even wished for the final blow that would end my life.

Where was God then? Where is he now?

I flex my aching fingers, the skin scraped raw from trying to escape my tight prison.

“Let me out,” I croak, my voice barely more than a whisper.

I grimace and swallow hard, hoping to soothe my parched throat. It’s been a while since I had anything to drink. I muster all my strength and bang my shoulder against the padded top.

“Please let me out!” I scream as loud as I can. “I can’t breathe!”

The music drops to a low pulse.

“Oh, he’s awake again,” Tanner jeers. Brandi’s stupid boyfriend. He’s the person I hate most in the world after her.

“Brandi, please! Let me out! I can’t breathe in here!”

“Come on, you’ve had your fun,” a girl says. “Let him out. He could seriously die.”

Brandi scoffs. “Oh please, he’s just being dramatic.”

“Fuck that, man,” a hard voice snaps. “I ain’t gonna be an accessory to no murder.”

“Yeah, me neither. I’m on my second strike. If I catch another charge, they’re going to throw the book at me.”

Some voices sound familiar, others I don’t recognize, but at least there are people here who care if I live or die—whatever their reasons might be.

“Okay, fine,” she gripes. “I’ll check on him, but I’m not letting him out.”

This is it. My chance to make a break for it. The second the lid cracks open, I lunge forward, fueled by adrenaline and desperation. I slam into Brandi, sending her careening into the dresser with a pained gasp.

“You little piece of shit,” she screeches. “I’m going to kill you.”

I tear through the living room. Heart thundering. Lungs searing. Every face and piece of mismatched furniture a blur in my hurry to get away. I zero in on the screen door and bolt toward it—the promise of freedom just steps away.

“Get him, baby!”

I’m almost at the door when something barrels into me from behind. I hit the floor hard, the sound echoing in my ears.

“You’re dead meat, bro,” Tanner sneers, flipping me over and straddling my chest. His weight bears down on me, crushing the breath from my body. My mind screams at me to get up, to run—but I’m stuck.

“Get off me!” I flail beneath him, every muscle straining to escape.

“Hold him down,” he orders the onlookers. One person grabs my wrists and pins them high above my head, while two others press my legs to the floor.

I thrash against my human shackles, fighting like an animal caught in a trap, but it’s no use. They’re bigger. Stronger. Meaner.

“Let me go!” I yell, my voice cracking.

“Give me that,” Brandi barks, snatching a cigarette from one of her friends and stabbing it into my neck. It sears through my skin like a hot blade. A scream rips from my throat. It hurts so bad I can’t even think.

“Shut him up,” she hisses.

Tanner’s fist slams into my cheek, and a sharp pain slices across my face, freezing me on the spot.

He doesn’t stop—his punches come fast and brutal, one after another, crunching bone and cartilage.

My head snaps sideways. Blood fills my mouth.

My vision splits in two. Everything is pain and fists.

Hot tears spill from my eyes as their cruel laughter rings in my ears.

I need to act fast before he kills me. I go limp, pretending to be unconscious, but the punches keep coming. I force myself to lie perfectly still, barely breathing. When you’ve been abused your whole life, pain becomes second nature—you learn how to disappear without leaving.

My plan works. The hands holding me slip away.

“Dude, chill. He’s out cold.”

It’s now or never. I arch forward, smashing my forehead into his mouth.

“My tooth!” Tanner squeals, diving after it as it tumbles across the carpet.

I don’t think. I just move—leaping to my feet and sprinting toward the door.

“Grab him!” Brandi shouts. “Don’t let him get away!”

I dodge the hands reaching for me and burst outside, falling down the stairs in my desperation to escape.

I’m back up in a heartbeat. Getting caught means another beating and being thrown back into the trunk.

I race into the humid night, my bare feet slapping hard against the warm pavement.

I can hear them behind me, closing in like a pack of wolves.

“I’m going to beat the snot out of you!” Tanner bellows.

I pump my legs faster, not daring to glance back.

Move it, Sam. Don’t let them catch you.

Lightning cracks across the dark sky, and a single raindrop lands on my nose. I close my eyes, savoring the coolness on my scorching skin. Then the sky breaks open, dumping cold rain all over me.

“You can’t run forever!” Brandi yells after me. “You’ll be back and I’ll be waiting!”

They turn back, but I don’t stop running. I can’t. A soothing voice whispers in my head, telling me everything will be okay, promising things a boy like me could only dream about.

Soon my surroundings become unrecognizable. Big houses. Perfect lawns. Clean streets.

I don’t belong here.

My legs give out, and my face meets the drenched concrete with a hard whack. I roll onto my back, wanting to disappear. Not die. Just… be gone.

I’m a shadow in a world that doesn’t see me—unloved, unnoticed, alone.

I clamber to unsteady feet and wrap my arms around my belly.

What am I going to do? I can’t go home. Not with Brandi and her friends there waiting for me.

I spin in a circle, searching—for what, I don’t know. That’s when I see it. A tree house between the hulking branches in the backyard of the biggest house on the street. Clutching my throbbing side, I limp across the lawn and haul myself over the wooden fence.