I Should Hate You +15 Points > I Should Hate You Someone's elbow hits me in the neck, roughly waking me up. Narrowing my eyes against the sunlight shining through the window just above my bed, I turn my head to the side and find Haru in a troublesome position. Haru's head is awkwardly wedged between the corner of the wall and the headboard. Her elbow digs into my neck, and one leg is draped across my stomach. I'd forgotten that Haru is an energetic sleeper-she shifts around a lot and ends up in the strangest positions. Gently, I push her leg off me and throw my legs over the edge of the bed to sit up. Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I yawn. Judging by the sunlight pouring through the window, it's probably around noon. We should get up. My stomach definitely agrees with that idea. While getting up, I give Haru a shake to wake her, but she just hisses like a wild animal and curls into the wall. Haru is even worse in the mornings than I am-at least when it comes to waking up. I walk into the bathroom, strip off my clothes, toss them into a corner, and step into the shower. The cold water jolts me fully awake, and my mind drifts back to what happened last night. The anger bubbles up again as I shut off the water. Still naked, I brush my teeth and give my dreads a rough shake while drying them with a towel. Back in my room, I don't bother drying off the rest of my body. I pull on some clothes and give Haru another nudge. "Leave me the f**k alone," she growls. "Cut the bullshit-we need food," I say, sitting back on the bed to pull on my boots. She groans again, tossing her arms over the bed like some kind of starfish. "I can go without food." I slap her stomach with a flat hand, making her groan again as I grab my knife and gun from the nightstand. "We don't live like that anymore. Wake up." Slowly, Haru sits up, pulling her legs to her chest and resting her chin on her knees. "What happened yesterday-when your brother wanted to talk?" I turn to face her, wondering how the hell I'm supposed to explain that my brother wanted to turn her into another c*m dumpster. "They wanted you to 'work' for your place here." I've always been honest with her, so why stop now? I watch her carefully. I know she understands exactly what I mean. Her eyes darken, and she's fully awake now. "Excuse me?" Her voice shakes slightly, fury written across her face. 1/4 "I shut it down, obviously. Like I would let that happen." I get up from the bed and search for my cigarettes. "Want one?" I ask when I find them, but she just shakes her head. I light one and lean against the wall, one hand in the pocket of my black ripped jeans. "I can't believe they'd ask that of you. Are women nothing more than s*x objects to men?" I shrug. I honestly don't care what men think. s*x means nothing to me anymore. I only sleep with someone if I get the urge-and I always have to be in control. Tie them up first, then maybe. Haru's the same about control. She doesn't have s*x, though. My theory about why she used to strip is that she liked the power-men drooling over her, desperate, but unable to touch. That was her drug. If you look past the money-for-nudity aspect, you can see how empowered women like her really are. And Haru lived for control. For power. "Just get dressed, Haru. I'm hungry." She sighs and gets up, looking around a little lost. "What do I wear?" I'd forgotten she didn't have any clothes here. I hand her a string thong, socks, black yoga pants, and an oversized Monster sweater. She gets dressed quickly and pulls on her black Adidas sneakers. We leave my room and head downstairs toward the bar. A bunch of bikers are lounging around, smoking and drinking. They all look up as we descend, their eyes following Haru curiously. I glance at her. She's shut down completely, and I start to regret telling her what my brother planned. We walk into the kitchen, and I immediately want to turn around. My dad, my brother, Iren, and Wilhelm are sitting at the kitchen table with a few others. "Hey Le-" "Don't talk to me," I cut off my brother and head toward the food on the kitchen counter. I grab plates for Haru and me. She accepts hers silently, ignoring the stares. I pour two mugs of coffee. After loading our plates, we walk to a table and sit down-far from the other bikers still staring. "Sooooo, what's your name?" Iren asks, trying to break the tension. "Huh, and here I thought I was just a hole. Guess I'm at least good enough to have a name?" Haru replies sarcastically, taking a bite of her apple. Iren chuckles and stands, walking over. I shoot him a warning look, but he just shakes his head and sits next to Haru. "Don't worry, Snow White. I didn't want that from you. Pres was just following the club rules." "Do you see me caring about any of that?" Haru says, still focused on her apple. "You care if you're this angry about it." "Get the f**k away from me unless you want me to accessorize your face with this fork in your eye." Her voice is sharp, rising just a bit-but not cold like mine would be. Dark is pure aggression, pure fire. A ticking time bomb. Iren clearly didn't expect that kind of reaction. He holds up his hands in surrender and scoots his chair back. "Alright, Snow White. I'll stop. My face is already pretty without accessories," he says with a grin. Haru softens, shifting back to Grey, and nods before turning back to her apple. I sigh in relief. I really didn't feel like peeling an angry Asian off a pile of broody bikers. A hand lands on my shoulder. I glance up-it's my dad. I want to shrug him off, but he won't budge, so I just ignore him. "I'm sorry," he says. "I wasn't thinking clearly. As the former Prez, I sometimes get too caught up in tradition. But I should've considered your side. I want a relationship with you more than fresh pussy." I'm shocked. From the looks on the other bikers' faces, they are too. My dad isn't exactly the apologizing type. I glance at Haru. There's something like longing in her eyes as she watches me and my father-longing for the idea of a family that might actually care. I've always seen that as nothing more than a childish fantasy. "Whatever. Fine," I mutter. My dad squeezes my shoulder briefly, then walks off. I shake off the shock and finish my food. "I'm going to shower now-since you didn't let me earlier," Haru says with a small grin. "Sure. I'll be outside." We split up. I walk across the bar and step outside. The air is dry. Sand and cactus stretch across the horizon, broken only by a few smaller sheds and dozens of bikers and parked cars. I walk to my bike, pull out another cigarette, and light it. Straddling the seat, I dangle my legs and stare into the distance, mind blank. Then a deep voice behind me makes me freeze. "I told your brother not to go through with that rule. He didn't listen." 3/4 His frown deepens. He leans in, dangerously close. His breath hits my face-and suddenly I'm drowning in memories. Tunnel vision sets in. I try to push him away, but the man might as well be carved from stone. "It is my business if it could impact the club." "It won't," I snap, still trying to shove him back. He grabs my wrists, raising them above my head, and yanks me off the bike. The cigarette falls from my hand as I stumble to my feet, struggling in his grip. "Let me go," I snarl, kicking him in the shin. He doesn't even flinch. "Why are you so fascinating to me? I should f*****g hate you." The bastard actually looks confused. I kick him again. And again. There's no escape from his iron grip. After a long minute, he finally lets me go. I stumble back, nearly tripping over my bike. He grabs my arm again, hard enough to bruise, and pulls me into his chest. Goddamn. His body is warm, solid, and frustratingly hot. I can feel every sculpted inch of him through his shirt. Too bad his personality is garbage. Too dominant. He'd never give me control. I step back and, without looking at him again, walk away toward my room.