Page 19 of Hate So Deep (Hate #4)

NOW

Lauren

I tossed and turned all night, waking with a wretched headache.

Dirk’s accusations still roll around in my head and although I don’t necessarily agree, I do know that it’s going to get super awkward if I don’t change my tune.

Being at my dad’s brings out the worst in me but what’s the alternative? Go home and sit in my home which feels more like a mausoleum?

Today is my birthday. I’m eighteen but as with every Christmas, I’m not expecting much because the greater holiday tends to overshadow the day of my birth.

I wouldn’t be surprised if my mom bitched all the way to the hospital when she went into labor because I ruined the holiday for her precious son.

Ugh.

Still, with this new day, I’m now an adult and there’s comfort in knowing that technically no one can tell me what to do anymore, not that I have any answers for myself.

After sitting through an awkward as fuck Christmas morning while everyone opened their gifts and I feigned a quasi-pleasant expression though, I left.

Thankfully, no one pressed me about anything but the hollow feeling in my chest followed me through the morning and dulled the brightest part when Celia produced a birthday cake and they presented me with a gift card to my favorite department store.

Now back at home, I feel the chill in the air the moment I step inside and after trudging up the stairs, I stop outside Buck’s closed door and press my fingers to the wood.

The faint shuffle beyond confirms my suspicions and I grip the knob before backing away.

Maybe it’s the coward's way out but I can’t face Mom when she’s like this and frankly, I don’t think she wants my comfort anyway.

Instead, I lock myself away in my bedroom where I spend the remainder of Christmas and my birthday watching classic movies and escaping into another world.

Later after grabbing a snack in the kitchen, I pause at the door to my room when I find my mom standing inside.

She’s glaring at my bed and with a trickle of unease, I whisper, “Mom?”

“Did you eat with that fucking cunt?” she asks, and I eye her stiff shoulders.

When I don’t respond because frankly, I don’t know what to say, she continues. “Your dad ruined everything when he fucked that bitch and brought two bastards into this world.”

Speechless, I can only stare until she looks up and says, “Remember that when you’re sitting across the dinner table with them. He chose them, Lauren…”

My eyes drop to her hand when she holds out my hairbrush and after I take it, she stalks from the room without a backward glance.

As soon as she’s gone, I close the door and stare at the brush before throwing it on the bed with a sigh.

Thanks for the birthday wishes Mom, or hey, how about Merry fucking Christmas?

Ugh.

I can’t define the emotion rolling through my chest, but it aches like a motherfucker.

I don’t want to feel this shit any longer. I can’t, so when Caro reaches out to ask if I want to party, I agree.

Maybe I should stay home but what awaits me here?

Mom is more closed off and distant than ever and I know I should be mourning Buck, and I am, but there was so much shit between me and the brother I used to adore that it’s blunted.

I guess that’s a blessing but at this point, I’d rather just grieve what could have been than live with what’s happening now.

I’m not sure my soul can handle any more truth bombs from my mom anyway.

Caro greets me at the curb with a wide smile that leads me to believe she’s already flying high and when she directs me to a house across town, I head in that direction.

I haven’t said much about my brother since his accident but as we roll up to a house and I spy the group hanging on the porch, she says, “Hey, I know this is weird shit but I’m here…you know?”

Clearing my throat, I whisper, “Thanks.”

While I appreciate her words, I don’t know how to describe the shit storm in my head and frankly I don’t think it’s a good idea to involve her in my mess.

Would that make her an accessory or something?

“You talk to Lover Boy?” she asks when we step onto the sidewalk.

“Yeah. He didn’t know much though,” I mutter.

“Hm,” she hums, and I eye her sideways.

“What?”

“Nothing. It’s just that he was all over you that night.”

“Yeah, before we went to that Gage guys place,” I say, waving my hand.

“That’s the thing, Lala. He was there. Stormed in after you went in the back.”

“Are you sure?”

Throwing out her hand, she says, “I mean, I wasn’t watching people come and go, you know. Besides, I was with Darius.”

Darius?

“Who’s Darius?” I ask and she waves her hand.

“Hot guy. Tall…yummy blonde dreadlocks.”

Okay, so not relevant but damn Caro sure likes to play.

Dirk didn’t mention any of this but why would he?

Although it’s probably nothing and I’m barking up the wrong tree, I need answers and Dirk is fresh out.

“Caro?” I say and she raises a brow. “I think I need to talk to this Gage guy.”

“Let’s go.”

“Didn’t Evans already tell you?”

Caro glances at me sideways while I grit my teeth because as it turns out, Gage is an asshole.

A slick-backed-hair, polo-shirt-wearing, asshole.

If I did anything anywhere near this man’s lap, well, a shower is in order when I get home.

This house reeks of weed and bad choices and I wonder where his parents are when I ask, “What do you mean? Why would Dirk tell me anything?”

He licks his upper lip before his eyes drop to my tits, covered in a sweater by the way and he says, “Cuz, he was here, sweet cheeks.”

Okay, but what truly happened? Where was I while all of this was going on?

Rocking back on my heels, I ask, “What did he do?”

“Baby, you wanna know what he did, maybe you should ask your man, yeah?”

Now he’s, my man?

What the fuck is going on?

“Look,” I say. “Dirk isn’t here. I am. If you don’t want the police all up your ass, then I need to know some shit.”

“The po-po,” he says, his lazy grin fading before he finally sits forward from his stupid ass lean on the couch. “I ain’t got time for that shit.”

“Mom’s gonna shit a brick, bro,” a younger version of Gage says, and I mentally roll my eyes.

It’s kind of hard to take this wannabe thug seriously when he’s sitting on a ten-thousand-dollar couch across from a custom home theater.

Asshole.

“What about my brother?” I ask and he dips his chin.

“Yeah, I know the fool. Why? Fucker wants to come at me again?”

Although his tone is full of bravado, I find it interesting that this is the first time he’s avoiding my gaze.

“When was the last time you saw him?” I ask.

I don’t know where this discussion is going but I do know that if I want to prove whatever I stepped into didn’t involve Buck, I have to ask the people I was with.

“Ain’t seen him, girl,” Gage interjects. “Not for a while.”

“So, he wasn’t here the night I was?”

Gage’s eyes narrow and I see the wheels turning. He’s going to lie to me, and I have to head him off at the pass.

“Fine. I’ll let the police handle it,” I say, splaying my hands. “I was hoping to avoid telling my parents, but…”

“C’mon, Gage,” his little mini-me says.

“Yeah, he was here,” he finally says with a shrug. “Bought some shit. Surprised you don’t remember since you was standing right there.”

The confirmation that I did see my brother presses at my chest like a lead freaking weight, but I summon a bitchy smile and say, “Whatever. He leave after getting the “shit”?”

“S’pose so. Dunno didn’t see him after that,” Gage says, eyeing me steadily.

Did I text Buck? Is that why he showed up or was it more likely for the drugs?

“Did I leave with him?” I whisper.

“Dunno,” he says, and Caro takes my hand.

We’re halfway to the door though when she pauses and looks over her shoulder to ask, “What about the roapies?”

Roapies?

“What the fuck are roapies?” I ask but no one answers me as Gage and Caro exchange a look that I can’t say that I appreciate.

“Why you asking when you already know the answer?” Gage says and Caro looks away nibbling her lip.

Since I don’t want to be here a second longer than I need to, I wait until we’re in the car to say, “Caro?”

“Yeah?”

“You said Dirk stormed in. You thought I left with him?”

“He did. He went straight to the back though where you went with Gage.”

Shuddering, I take a swig of water, but I don’t know what I’m washing away because I don’t fucking remember.

“But you said Buck wasn’t there,” I mumble.

“He wasn’t, Lala,” she says, and I eye her sideways.

Rubbing my aching brow, I mumble, “Why do I feel like I’m missing something?”

When she sinks in her seat, I look up, my stomach clenching as she whispers, “Lala, have you considered…I mean…well, what if they put something in your drink?”

Uh what? Like they drugged me?

Swallowing to drum up some spit, I turn to the window, studying the snow swirling around the car before asking, “Why would you think that?”

“Because I lost time.” Grabbing my arm, she says, “I should have said something. I’m so sorry, Lala. I guess I was afraid…”

“Afraid of what?” I rasp. “Don’t you think I deserved to know something like that? Shit. Would you have said anything if my brother hadn’t died?”

Her bottom lips trembles as she says, “I don’t know. I’m sorry. We never should have gone there.”

“Why?”

“Because I knew they sold that stuff, you know…the roapies? But Darius said they don’t shit where they eat, so…”

Whatever that means…

“That’s just great,” I snap before putting the vehicle in gear.

Why would she take me to a party where she knew the partiers were down with drugging women?

It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask her but she bows her head, and I mentally groan before saying, “Now I don’t know if I killed my brother and if I was roofied or roapied…whatever, before I did it.”

This newest revelation only deepens the mystery but still doesn’t answer the question of how I ended up in my bed covered in blood while my brother was simultaneously attacked.

Not only that but I’m struggling with whether I can trust Caro, although I suppose keeping secrets isn’t the problem, it’s telling the truth that she apparently has an issue with.