Hating you standalone mm.., p.1
Hating You: Standalone MM Bully Romance, page 1
HATING YOU
STANDALONE MM BULLY ROMANCE
WEST GREENE
Copyright ©July 2022 by West Greene
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Cover Design: Tiff Writes Romance
Interior Formatting & Design: Tiff Writes Romance
Editing: Tiff Writes Romance
Proofreading: Kimberly Peterson
Created with Vellum
For Riley, my reason for everything that I do. I love you.
For every reader who enjoys a good MM romance with that bully element to keep you hanging on.
For every member of the LGBTQIA+ community who were never accepted by those who are meant to always love and accept you, just know there are still many of us in the world who will always love you as you are.
Continue being you.
CONTENTS
Author’s Note
Trigger Warnings
Part I
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Part II
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Epilogue
Also by West Greene
About the Author
AUTHOR’S NOTE
This book was previously published as two books: Hunter’s Target and Samuel’s Darkness.
Nothing new has been added to the two books. They have only been combined into one, and the other two books have been taken down from retailer websites.
TRIGGER WARNINGS
This book contains multiple triggers.
Trigger Warnings:
Homophobic parents
Homophobic brothers
Homophobic peers
Bullying
Abusive parents
Domestic violence
Use of recreational drugs (weed)
Overuse of the word “fuck” and its variations
Homelessness
Your mental health matters.
If you have any questions about this book before reading, please do not hesitate to reach out to me.
PART I
HUNTER’S TARGET
1
Samuel
If there was one thing in this world that I hated more than my family, it was change.
I couldn’t stand change.
So, imagine how fucking ecstatic I was to be starting a new fucking school during my senior year. I’d lived in the same neighborhood and the same city all my life. But Mom got a better job offer here in a smaller city, and of course, my entire family packed up and moved here. Dad could work anywhere—woop-dee-fucking-doo—so when to move wasn’t even up for question.
Of course, my older brother was asked if he was okay with moving, but not me.
No one gave a fuck about me, and honestly, I no longer gave a fuck about them either.
Life had been fucking great five years ago. It had been fucking fantastic until I realized I wasn’t attracted to girls. When I’d come out to my family, thinking they would support me, the exact opposite had happened.
They’d shunned me. And my shithole of an older brother spread it around school, placing me as an outcast.
I was used to all of that, so to be starting a new fucking school during my senior year . . . well, it had my goddamn skin crawling. I was used to the bullies back at Brentwood. I could deal with them.
The people here? I didn’t know them. I couldn’t prepare myself for their attacks. And believe me, I wasn’t stupid. I knew there would be attacks. You weren’t the ‘queer’ kid without someone talking shit about you.
“Wish I could be there to see your first day go to shit,” my brother remarked as I came down the stairs. I rolled my eyes, not even bothering to respond. I just grabbed my boots out of the closet behind the front door. After yanking them on my feet, I knelt to lace them up.
Brad, my older brother of two years, was a high school graduate—barely. He refused to do anything with his life, and Mom and Dad seemed all too willing to take care of him. He didn’t even have a job before we moved, and I knew that wasn’t going to change now. All he did was party, get high, and drink. I was pretty fucking sure he hadn’t even been to bed yet.
It was the only reason he’d be up at seven-fifteen A.M.
I shouldered my bag and walked out of the house, shutting the door behind me, making sure I was quiet as I did so. My parents would never get angry at Brad, but they sure as fuck would get pissed with me if I shut the door too loudly and woke them up before they were ready to be up.
I made it to school fifteen minutes before the bell was scheduled to ring for first period. When I pushed open the door to the front office, the smell of cinnamon and apples hit me straight in the nose, making me feel sick to my stomach. I hated strong smells, even ones that smelled good. I was more than ready to get the fuck back out in the hallway where I could damn breathe.
“I’m Samuel Radcliffe. I’m here to pick up my schedule and get my locker information.”
The receptionist looked up at me. She was an older lady, probably in her fifties or sixties. Her hair was dyed blonde, and it looked so dry that I was scared it was going to disintegrate into dust when she tucked it behind her ear.
“I’m sorry, hun. Can you repeat that?”
I gritted my teeth before forcing myself to relax, repeating what I’d just said to her. She fished through some papers on her desk. “Ah-ha!” she exclaimed, pulling out a folder. She was way too happy for this early in the fucking morning. “Here you go, hun. Since it’s the first day of school, you’ll go to homeroom instead of your first-period class,” she explained. “Your homeroom teacher will direct you on how the rest of your day will proceed. Oh! And your books are located in your locker.”
I nodded once. “Thanks,” I rumbled.
I quickly escaped from the office and dragged fresh air into my lungs. After I glanced down at the map and the locker number on another piece of paper, I headed in that direction. I felt some eyes on me as I walked through the hallways as more and more students filtered in, and even more when I got to my locker, but I ignored them. I was pretty damn good at doing that.
I grabbed the books I needed for my classes before lunch and shoved them into my bag before quickly making my way to homeroom, which, for some fucked up reason, was across the goddamn school.
Who the fuck made the schedules around this fucking place?
After finding homeroom, I took a seat in the back corner. I had a need to always have myself in a corner—not to back myself into it, but to better protect myself. After years of bullying both at home and at school, I needed something at my back and one of my sides to better protect myself.
“Yo, anyone sitting here?”
I looked up at the guy in front of me. He was wearing a pair of light wash jeans and Nike slides with black socks. A loose band tee covered his torso, and his blonde hair was cut short on the sides, leaving the top longer.
I shook my head at him. “Nah. Seat’s free.”
“Cool.” He dropped into the chair. “Haven’t seen you before. I’m Noah. You?”
“Samuel. I’m new. Just moved here a couple of weeks ago.” I watched as more students filtered in, everyone giving me curious looks, but none curious enough to come find out who I was.
“Cool shit.” Not really. “Let me see your schedule.” I silently dug it out of my pocket and passed it to him. “Well, shit,” he muttered. “We don’t have any classes together. But we’ve got lunch.”
I looked over at him. Was this guy seriously trying to be my fucking friend?
“I’m gay,” I told him bluntly, wanting to go ahead and get this shit out the way so I wouldn’t have to deal with losing a friend later down the road.
He shrugged. “Okay, and? I like pussy. Big fucking deal.”
A smirk curved my lips. That was a hell of a lot better reception than I’d received from my ex-best-friend. When I’d told him I was gay, he had acted as if I was a fucking alien or some shit and never spoke to me again. It hurt at first, but then, I realized I didn’t need shit like that in my life, and I moved the hell on.
That was all I could do these days. Just move the hell on when shit didn’t go right.
And it rarely ever did, so I got pretty fucking good at it.
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Just go ahead and call me the king of moving the fuck on.
The teacher walked in at that moment, her heels clicking across the floor. Noah handed me back my schedule, and I folded it back up, putting it in my pocket, getting ready to hear what kind of shit show I’d been thrown in.
2
Samuel
By lunch, wild rumors were circulating, and they weren’t about me. Apparently, some guy was coming back to school that was rumored to be a fucking asshole, though the girls seemed to love him. He just didn’t seem to take any shit from what I was understanding.
Noah was waiting for me outside of the large, steel cafeteria doors. “Didn’t want you trying to find me through the large crowd,” he explained when I arched a brow at him in question.
I just shrugged and followed him inside of the noisy, busy room full of students. We stepped into line for food, though with me not having any money, I wouldn’t be getting anything. I hadn’t thought to pack a lunch this morning either. Though I figured if I had, Brad would have made a big scene, which would have woken my parents up, which would then make my morning absolute hell.
Wasn’t fucking worth it.
Mom and Dad always managed to get the bare necessities for me. Lunch money wasn’t one of those necessities, hence why I was so skinny. I was missing fucking meals all the goddamn time.
“You heard about Hunter?” Noah asked me out of the blue as we moved up in line.
“That this guy’s name that everyone’s talking about?”
He nodded. I watched a guy walk into the cafeteria. He was about my height and was wearing a pair of dark jeans and a plain white t-shirt. He was good-looking enough, but not really my type. I liked broody assholes for some reason. A psychiatrist would probably tell me it was some trauma bullshit.
“What about him?”
We took another step forward. “I’d steer clear of him if I were you. He doesn’t really take well to new people, and if you’re not in his circle of friends, you’re beneath him. He’s a douchebag.”
Noah sounded sour as fuck about this Hunter guy.
“Eh,” I muttered. “I’m used to douchebags.” Noah looked at me like he was expecting more, but I wasn’t saying shit else. I wasn’t the type to talk about my demons. They were mine and mine alone, and I’d found a way to coexist with them. Hell, most of the time, they were comforting. At least I could always rely on them to make me miserable.
“Holy shit, he’s here!” Noah suddenly whisper-shouted. Right after he said that, the entire cafeteria went deadly silent.
Walking through the doors with another guy on his right side was the guy everyone must have been talking about all morning. His hair was inky black, but unlike where mine was dyed, I could tell his was natural. Dark, menacing eyes scanned the cafeteria, and he nodded once at a group of guys sitting at a table in the center of the room.
Something told me he was definitely part of the popular crowd, which was normally a turn-off for me, but I was seriously fucking turned on at the sight of him. Muscles bulged beneath his black t-shirt, and he was wearing ripped jeans with a pair of dirty shit-kickers.
Lord, please fucking help me, I silently pleaded.
He took a seat at the table, and after a moment, conversation slowly resumed in the cafeteria. Noah audibly swallowed next to me. “That would be Hunter Reil.”
Hunter Reil was fucking delicious looking. I wanted to sink my teeth in that tight ass of his.
“What did he do to get sent to juvie?”
Noah snorted. “No one knows. It involved some girl. That’s all anyone knows. The girl won’t speak of what happened, and the other guy is still lying in a coma.”
Jesus Christ.
“Just stay away from him,” Noah pleaded with me. “I don’t think he’ll take too kindly to the fact that you’re gay and proud to be it.”
I patted his back in a comforting way. “Noah, I stopped giving a fuck what people thought about me years ago.”
3
Samuel
Ihated gym with a fucking passion. I wasn’t sports-inclined in the slightest. Back at my old school, I boxed a lot, focusing my anger and hatred on something more productive than getting my ass in trouble. But I hadn’t found a boxing arena here, and believe me, I’d looked.
Hence why lately, I felt on the verge of fucking exploding.
I stripped my shirt off, getting ready to pull on the one that the school issued. I was the last one remaining in the locker room. I didn’t like changing in front of other people. Despite being active before we moved, my lack of food kept me skinny—almost too skinny. I hated it when people fucking stared at me.
I jerked in surprise with suddenly, two guys grabbed me from behind, locking their arms around my upper arms and shoulder in a way that kept me still. If I moved, I knew I’d rip something out of fucking socket. I gritted my teeth and stared at Hunter as he moved around to stand directly in front of me.
It sure as hell hadn’t taken long for the bullshit to start.
“Samuel Radcliffe,” Hunter mused, “saw you fucking staring at me during lunch.”
If I could shrug, I would have. “Pretty sure the entire fucking cafeteria was staring at you.”
He clenched his jaw. “Not the fucking way you were.”
I didn’t bother saying anything because he was probably right. I’d thought he was fine as hell, a bit dangerous, definitely off-limits. Still felt that way, even if he was showing me he was a grade-A douchebag. I was so used to assholes like him—fucking lived with them—that this shit didn’t even phase me nor turn me off.
It just set me on edge.
“This is my only fucking warning to you,” he hissed, stepping so close to me that our chests brushed, “you watch your fucking back. And I’d keep your eyes adverted if I were you.”
I ran my eyes over him, a smirk twitching at my lips despite the situation I was in. “Feel like your sexuality is at risk since a gay guy is blatantly checking you out?” I hissed a pained breath through my teeth when his friends tightened their grip on me.
Hunter wrapped a hand around my throat, and my cock jumped in my jeans at the contact. Fuck, I wanted him, and I wanted him bad.
“Watch your goddamn back.”
With that, his friends dropped me, and the three of them walked out of the locker room like they were God’s gift to fucking Earth.
I adjusted my dick in my jeans. I wanted him—fucking bad.
I was seriously fucked in the head.
I don’t know who the fuck thought playing a goddamn game of scrimmage during gym was a good idea, but I was ready to knock the shit out of them.
Hunter and his friends had made me their sole target whether I had the fucking ball or not. My body was aching like a mother fucker, and the goddamn coach seemed fucking blind. But I wasn’t backing down. I wasn’t fucking weak.
“Samuel—” the coach shouted, but it was too late.
Something hard smacked against the side of my head. I hit the ground hard, the other side of my head bouncing off the hard ground.
It was lights out from there just as pain exploded behind my eyes.
Hunter
I frowned as I stared down at Samuel, waiting for him to move. Fucker had been taking the damn tackles and hits like a fucking champ. I hadn’t expected it, and I hated that I was even more attracted to him for it.
