Page 73 of His Untoward Hate

Sky muttered a curse under his breath before storming out of the damn house, while Elvie continued yelling in outrage and Francisco cried out in pain behind him.

28

Jude practically leapt out of the car the moment it slowed to a stop in front of his foster’s house, even while the engine was still running. Terror, anxiety, confusion, and everything in between devoured him as he stepped out of the car. He did not even manage to thank the driver or spare Sky a glance of gratitude for helping him through the days. Jude could not even bring himself to look at him. Too many thoughts were crashing through his head, questions that haunted him the entire ride home.

Why did he do that to me?

Why did he kiss me out of nowhere?

What was the reason behind it? I don’t understand.

He hates me so much, doesn’t he? Absolutely.

Is he into boys? Definitely not.

Is he into me? Definitely not.

Is he gay? Definitely not.

Was it all just some kind of prank? Absolutely.

He’s definitely messing with me. Absolutely.

That last thought sent a sharp, painful ache through his chest. But the kiss they shared terrified Jude more than anything. It was his very first kiss, something he had always imagined giving to Jasper someday, yet Sky had stolen it from him instead.

Jude could have pushed him away. He could have stopped it. But something deep inside him urged him to stay still and let Sky consume that shy, guarded part of him. It was as if Sky possessed a strange power over him, one that always made Jude obey whatever he said or did. Sometimes, it felt like Sky owned him, and Jude hated himself for becoming so weak whenever it came to Sky Granger.

What troubled Jude the most, however, was the regret written all over Sky’s face after the kiss. That expression hurt him differently, so much that Jude could no longer bring himself to look at him afterward.

Why did he kiss me in the first place if he was only going to regret it afterward? It was nothing special. Just a meaningless kiss. Jude kept repeating those words to himself, trying to convince his heart to pretend it had never happened at all. However, his mind remained clouded with endless questions.

Jude forced himself to leave those thoughts behind the moment he stepped onto the small staircase leading to their house. His eyes immediately darted to the ground, checking if the things he had left outside the night before were still there. But they were nowhere in sight.

A wave of panic instantly washed over him. Sky’s laptop had been left there too, and Jude feared that some random passerby might have stolen it already.

Anxiety enveloped Jude as he stepped forward and gripped the doorknob with great reluctance. Slowly, he pushed the door open, his heartbeat pounding violently against his chest, partly from fear that his foster parents might already be home from work. A shaky sigh escaped his lips when he realized the door was unlocked. The moment he slipped inside, Jude gently pulled the door shut behind him and closed his eyes in relief. His hands trembled as he carefully eased it closed, as if a thief were sneaking into someone else’s house. He barely dared to breathe, terrified that even the slightest sound would alert someone. But Jude jumped out of his feet when his father’s voice suddenly rang out right behind him. Startled, he quickly turned around, only for a hard slap from the back of his father’s hand to strike his face before he even saw it coming.

“How dare you show your face in my house after everything you’ve done?” Francisco hissed; his voice low yet filled with fury that sent fear coursing through Jude’s body. “How dare you throw a party in my own home? How dare you waste our money going to bars and sucking everyone’s dick? We raised you properly, and this is how you repay us? You’re nothing but a disgrace to this family!”

The words came endlessly in a furious outburst as if he was really waiting to say it all to Jude. Rage was written across Francisco’s face, which made Jude shrink back in trepidation despite the painful sting spreading across his cheek. Jude’s lips trembled violently from fear, but he still tried to defend himself because none of what Francisco accused him of was true. They were all lies Mitch had fed them.

“I-I didn’t do a-anything, da—”

“Shut the fuck up!” Francisco roared before another harsh slap landed across Jude’s other cheek.

“Don’t ever call me Dad again.”

“Honey, what’s going on here?” Elvira suddenly appeared out of nowhere.

With her blonde hair tied in a tousled bun and a stained white apron wrapped around her body, she had most likely come straight from the kitchen, which was always her happy place. She always loved the kitchen.

“Oh gosh…” she reacted the moment her eyes landed on him.

Blood trickled from the corner of Jude’s split lip, the wound from yesterday having reopened and worsened. The metallic taste that filled his mouth was already far too familiar to him. The painful marks of his father’s hands were clearly imprinted on his pale, already bruised cheeks. For a brief moment, Jude wondered if she still cared. He desperately hoped she did.

Jude looked at her desperately, clinging to the small hope that she would side with him. But the weight of the world seemed to crash down on him when she only shook her head in disappointment.

“I don’t have a faggot son,” she said coldly.