Page 17 of Hate So Deep (Hate #4)

NOW

Lauren

Thankfully everyone breaks off to do a little shopping and as Celia and Cat edge further away, I allow the distance to grow until I find myself lost amongst the crowd.

Passing the booths, I look over the handmade soaps, towels, and jellies with a frown.

The Christmas song blaring overhead is lost on me while I browse with nothing on my mind but how to get the fuck out of here without making a scene.

Eventually I end up sitting on a bench overlooking the lake.

Every few minutes there’s a display that lights up the water but I'm guessing it’s a far prettier sight at night when the brilliant hues of green and red won’t be competing with the winter sun.

Someone decorated the paddle boats too and although its thirty fucking degrees, people are still out there exploring in the rented tubs.

It’s all lost to me though because my mind whirls with shit that I can’t push away.

Did Dirk have a relationship with Stacey Hughes? Does it matter?

Is it possible that Colt is the one who killed my brother? But how do I explain the blood?

I know none of these jerks were close to Buck but surely skipping a Christmas bazaar wouldn’t be a rude request.

Of course, I could have refused but every time I do, I’m bitchy Lauren, the spoiled brat who refuses to play along.

I shouldn’t care but apparently there’s some part of me that does, or I wouldn’t be here.

When my phone chimes again, I finally glance at the screen, and this is when I realize how much time has passed because I have multiple missed calls and texts from my dad.

I don’t have the energy to answer, though.

What did the police want to know? Was my mom there?

“Where the fuck have you been?” Dirk growls, breaking me from my thoughts.

Sinking in my seat, I avert my gaze but don’t bother to answer. He’s gearing up for a lecture in five, four, three, two…bingo.

“Do you really think this is going to solve anything? Get your head out of your ass and stop being a spoiled brat.”

Eyeing him sideways, I sigh, and this only enrages him more as he says, “Never mind. What did I expect? Get up. Let’s go.”

Pushing to my feet, I stalk past him, but after grabbing my arm, he searches my eyes, shakes his head, and says, “Jesus, Lauren. Are you even human under all that ice?”

Summoning a smile that’s bitchy at best, I say, “Are we going or not?”

“Should just leave your ass here,” he mumbles, pushing past me.

I follow at my own pace only slowing when I don’t see the rest of the group.

Great.

I’m about to be subjected to another twenty minutes of hearing all the reasons why I suck.

At least with the others, Colt merely glares while Celia looks at me with cow eyes.

Once we’re in the truck, Dirk peels from the lot and I silently sigh, grabbing the oh-shit handle above my head.

His words from before swirl in my brain and although it shouldn’t matter what he thinks, I say, “I had to get straight A’s for two years before my mom gave me her old car.”

“Huh?” he grunts.

“I paid for my own insurance and every single haircut and pedicure, since I turned sixteen. For my seventeenth birthday, my mom gave me a lecture about my education and told me if I wanted any help for school, I had to attend the college of her choice and study business.”

“Am I supposed to feel sorry that you have to study business?” he spits. “My dad worked two fucking jobs to get his degree.”

“Oh, so you do have your own family,” I sneer but he doesn’t comment beyond clenching his jaw.

Sensing a new chilliness to the air I avert my gaze, but the words still bumble on my tongue, and I rasp, “Did your dad create a whole new family because he couldn’t stand the original one?”

Eyeing the tic in his jaw, I slam my palm against my chest and sneer, “Did your mom hate you so much that she thought about aborting you?”

“Lauren,” he growls, and I shake my head.

“Enough! You don’t know me. You don’t care about me. So, you don’t get to lecture me. Asshole. My mom. Buck. Do you have any idea…”

Trailing off, I lean my head against the window, willing back the tears that were blessedly absent before this dick came along.

“What? Let me guess,” he says with a dark chuckle. “Your poor fucking mother can’t figure out why her precious son is dead?”

Whipping around, I stare at him wide eyed until he turns to glare out the window.

He doesn’t know my mom. Why would he say something so perfectly cruel?

After a moment, he mutters, “You want to be alone, baby girl. You’re doing a damn fine job of ending up there.”

Maybe it’s true but he doesn’t get to judge me for shit that he can’t possibly understand, all of which fades when my dad calls again, and I’m reminded of where he was today while the others shopped for meaningless fucking gifts over a holiday that lost its shine a long time ago.

I can’t continue to ignore the fact that the police must think I did something and although I’d rather poke out my eyes than ask this asshole for help, I have to know what he knows about that night.

This is why I suck in a breath as I smooth my icy fingers down my thighs and say, “The night that my brother was attacked…”

He eyes me sideways and grunts, “Yeah?”

“You, uh, came to the party after Cory’s, you were there,” I mumble.

“So?”

“Do you know, uh, who I went home with?” I whisper, my pulse pounding in my throat.

What if he says it was Buck? What then?

“Why are you asking me this?” he says, and I turn my head to the window.

I don’t want to admit my worst fears but if I don’t meet him partway, he’s not going to understand why I’m asking the question, which is why, I say, “I-I don’t remember what happened but…”

“You don’t fucking remember?” he growls, and I shake my head. “Jesus, Lauren. Grow the fuck up. You think because you’re rich, you’re fucking immune?”

Rolling my head, I grin bitterly and say, “No, I don’t. I’m not stupid. Look at Buck. Do you know who I left with or not?”

After we pull into the drive, he turns to me and says, “I don’t fucking know. I’m not your keeper. Maybe you can take your ass inside and stay there without making trouble.”

Shaking my head, I push the door open and drop to the ground before saying, “I don’t know why I bother. Stay the fuck away from me, you soulless prick.”

Dirk

Soulless prick.

She’s not far off because she can’t possibly imagine the shit I’ve done much of which I’m not proud of. I could place the blame at my mother’s feet for running off when shit got too rough, or even my father’s for being so goddamn greedy.

The truth is, I was fading long before that and eventually Stacey fucking Hughes came along to kill the last of any humanity still clinging to my soul.

Yes, I made the choice to embrace the darkness but that’s all I’ve had. It’s pitch fucking black where I am.

This is why I tried so hard to resist Lauren because she’s just another version of Stacey, albeit brighter.

However, I can’t make Lauren do shit and trying to control the damage has only led me here.

I guess now I can confirm why she hasn’t asked about that night but fuck me, I still can’t believe that she got so fucked up she doesn’t remember how she got home.

That’s next level shit and I’m tempted to follow her inside and spank that pretty ass mocking me from those tight as fuck jeans.

What the hell did she drink that night? How did she end up at Gage’s in the first place?

Something about the desperate glitter in her pretty green eyes leaves me wondering what she didn’t say.

Was she lying? Why?

Lauren loves to throw that shit in my face.

It’s better that she doesn’t recall the events of that evening but my spine prickles nonetheless because it’s possible somewhere between when I fucked her in that bathroom and ran into her at Gage’s that someone slipped her drugs.

Although Lauren is brash and stupid enough to have done it on her own.

I won’t know unless I ask her, but that’s not an option. While I’ve been faithfully putting all my effort into pushing her away, I’ve also solidified her resolve, to no doubt not trust me with those answers.

Whatever the case, she’s fishing for information and until I know why, I have no plans of giving it.

All these thoughts roil through my brain as I head across town, passing the line that demarcates the differences between Lauren’s world and my own.

It’s laughable really. I pushed her away at every possible fucking turn and she still lured me in with her siren smile. Now I’m trying to figure out why she doesn’t fucking remember when I should be happy, she’s blissfully ignorant.

What a complete mindfuck.

This has nothing to do with me, and it shouldn’t matter but, I can’t look into her pretty green eyes one more fucking time and wonder if it’s just misery looking back at me or fear.

Maybe this is my last good deed before I hit the road or I’m being really fucking stupid. I don’t know, but I can’t stop myself because no matter how hard I try little Lauren Stark lives rent free in my head and I can’t seem to get fucking rid of her.