Page 2 of Hate So Deep (Hate #4)

THEN

Lauren

The bass music thrums in my veins as I reach for the proffered joint dangling in front of me. Danny Marker, the star quarterback at Academy, tips his head with a sexy grin but I’m immune when I take another hit, welcoming the haze that clouds my thoughts.

Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in.

“Don’t look now but trouble just arrived,” Tori says beside me, and I give her an arch look before erupting into giggles.

Rolling her eyes, she swats me on the arm before saying, “Gimme some of that.”

After she grabs the roach from my hand, I drop against the cushions on the floor and stare at the ceiling.

The music roars through my ears and I raise my hands, waving them in the air.

Finally, I can breathe although if I let it through, I know the shit swirling through my head will overtake my pleasant buzz.

My parents were going at it again when I snuck out earlier. The hateful words still press at my chest despite the pleasant haze from the weed.

I can’t imagine this will go on for much longer, which leaves the dreaded reality that divorce is probably in their future.

How do I feel about that? I don’t know because it’s hard to see anything clearly when it’s so fucking toxic in our home…all the goddamn time.

When Tori coughs beside me, I glance at her sideways and she waves away the smoke wafting in front of her eyes before handing the roach to the next person in line.

After that I close my eyes. Maybe I could sleep? Wouldn’t that be novel?

Of course, as soon as I have the thought, the deep, raspy voice of none other than my damn brother says above me, “Hey, get up. Mom’s on a rampage. We need to go home. Now.”

Any relaxation I hoped to achieve pops like a balloon, and I flip my eyes open to find Buck standing over me wearing his perpetual scowl.

When he grabs me by the arm, I pull away as soon as we’re standing to which he grunts his frustration before running his hands through his thick blonde hair.

I silently agree, what a horrible way to ruin a good buzz .

It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell him I’m not going but when I spy the tic in his jaw, I decide against it.

He’s already agitated, and one false move will only devolve into an argument that I can’t win. Buck doesn’t believe in rules or fucking boundaries and I’m tired of being his punching bag.

“Let’s go,” he says, and I mumble goodbye to Tori, who looks between us with arched brows.

Shrugging, I follow Buck out the door because he doesn’t care enough to actually be a decent human being and I’m too weary to fight.

Once we’re in the car, I rub my neck where a tension headache has formed and ask, “What’s going on?”

“Stupid shit about Dad again,” he mutters, peeling off down the street.

Grabbing the oh-shit handle above my head, I suck in a breath and bite back my terse response. With Buck, I’ll get further with honey than vinegar, another lesson learned the hard way.

“What’s the deal this time?” I ask.

Our parents fight all the time but if we were summoned home then it must be worse than usual. I’m not sure I’m in the headspace for this, especially high, although that’s blunted by the rage, I can feel vibrating within my brother.

He’s a lit fuse and I would do well to avoid the explosion.

“Who cares?” he says, his mouth curling in a sneer.

I do. Or I did. Now I’m not so sure. I’m tired of the damn vitriol.

“I don’t know why they don’t just divorce,” I mutter. “Save us the misery.”

“Yeah,” Buck says, huffing out a bitter laugh. “He’d like that, wouldn’t he?”

“Dad? Can you blame him? She’s always on him about something.”

Totally true. Mom rags on Dad so much, it’s no wonder he spends so much time at the office. I’d avoid her bitchiness, too.

In fact, I do avoid her because when he’s not around, she focuses her bitch on me.

Ugh.

Of course, Buck doesn’t agree and when he slashes his hand through the air, I shrink toward the window.

“That dick deserves what he gets,” he barks. “You think he can play house with some other bitch and get away with it?”

Wait…

“What?” I gasp, whipping around.

What the hell does that mean? Play house?

He eyes me sideways, his hands curling around the steering wheel before he mumbles, “You still don’t know? So fucking stupid.”

Wisely, I don’t comment although the bitter retort trembles on my tongue. Buck’s attitude is about as warm as Mom’s but he’s her favorite and I think her poison lives in his veins.

“Whatever,” I finally say.

Why would I believe anything he spews? He’s just as bad as her when it comes to Dad.

“Not whatever,” Buck sneers. “He’s got a bitch on the side. Oh, and two kids.”

Dumbfounded, I can only stare while he makes a right turn.

That’s completely insane. Right?

Eyeing his hands clenched around the wheel, I shake my head and say, “Buck, don’t be…that’s crazy.”

Even as I say the words, a lump forms in my throat. Dad is gone a lot, and I would be lying if I said I’ve never wondered if he was having an affair, but kids…?

No fucking way.

“Jesus, Lala,” he growls. “Grow up. Your dad’s a skeevy fucking asshole.”

I sink into silence after that, his words rolling around in my brain. Is it true? Why would Buck make something like that up?

All those late nights at the office and his emergency meetings during the holidays make more sense now.

Shit.

My life just became a hundred times more complicated, and it was no cake walk to begin with.