Page 46 of Hate So Deep (Hate #4)

NOW

Lauren

Dirk is gone when I wake up the next morning and although I’m confused as to why I found him sitting in my room in the dark, I can’t be sorry.

Although it’s always a frenzy with Dirk, this time it felt different, slower, more intense and I wonder if it’s related to his confession to Colt.

Of course, we didn’t speak about it after, and I fell into a deep sleep instead. It would be foolish to hope for more now that the cat is out of the bag, but dreams are just that, foolish fantasies that rarely come true.

Ugh.

Still, my heart feels a little brighter as I step down the stairs to refill my glass of water and find something to nibble on that won’t upset my stomach.

When I reach the bottom of the stairs though, I pause because Colt and Dirk are in the living room, facing off by the picture window.

They both turn, eyeing me with matching scowls and I ask, “What’s going on?”

For fucks sake, the last thing I need is both of them riding my ass, although I am hoping they weren’t arguing over me because my history with Dirk is so minor in comparison to the other shit going on.

“We have some news,” Colt says and the peculiar gleam in his eyes sends a shiver down my spine.

The better part of me wants to walk out that door and just keep going but I can’t. I’m stuck in this mess until the end. I just hope it doesn’t include me spending it in fucking prison.

“What?” I ask and his eyes slide to Dirk, whose head is bowed to his chest while he seemingly glares at the floor.

Shit.

What is going on? If he puts me off after what we did last night, in front of my asshole half-brother, I will lose my shit and this time, the charges will be legit because I’m not holding fucking back.

“The police found Aimee’s body,” Dirk finally says.

“Oh,” I whisper, dropping to the couch and covering my swirling tummy.

The poor girl is dead. I mean I suspected but knowing it’s true is completely awful.

“Where?” I ask, glancing at Dirk. “Where was she?”

“Two miles from where her phone last pinged in Turner Park,” he says.

Turner Park? The place where all the kids go to party? How did she end up there?

“Dad said the police aren’t releasing anything but some reports on the news say her cause of death was blunt force trauma to the head,” Colt says.

“So, she was hit in the head?” I ask but of course, he can’t answer my question.

The only person who can is dead, leaving me to deal with the fallout but Dirk’s insinuations circle my soul as I stare at the floor.

Unfortunately, I have no way of proving my brother was trying to set me up either.

I’m fucked. I’m fucking fucked.

“Lala,” Colt says, pulling me from my misery.

“Yeah?” I mumble as he drops to the ottoman before me.

“I need to know…I can’t help if I don’t have all the information. You need to tell me if you did anything, okay?”

Help?

Dazed, I search his bright eyes, but I don’t understand the message staring back at me and I bow my head, saying, “I don’t…I didn’t. I don’t know what happened. I don’t remember.”

Maybe I’m not strong enough to beat up my brother but that doesn’t mean something didn’t happen with Aimee.

Is it possible it was an accident? But how could I have possibly hid Aimee’s body and all the rest while presumably drugged and out of my mind?

I just don’t know, and this is why I know that I’m freaking doomed. I feel so freaking helpless right now and it’s a completely horrible panic pressing at my chest when Dirk says, “Let’s start at the beginning. You need to tell us everything, Lauren.”

Despite everything, I hate that he’s calling me by my name because I sense there’s a message there that I don’t want to understand.

However, I can’t focus on that issue when this one has reared its ugly head. Either way, I’m in a daze when Finn appears, holding a mug in her hand.

When she holds it out to me, I take it with a wan smile, and say, “Thanks.”

The floral notes of chamomile tea that Celia loves to drink before bed hit my noise and I breathe deep, hoping it might snap me out of my shock, which only deepens when the front door blows open and Ramie and Hayden appear.

For once, I’m not bamboozled by Hayden’s good looks as he spreads his arms wide and says, “Let’s get this shit done, fuckers.”

“Tone it down,” Ramie says, and he winks at her before they settle on the couch beside me.

Although there’s a tiny spark of hope burning in my chest, I can’t afford to have it doused, which is why I’m waiting for some explanation as to what the hell is going on.

Since Dirk is pacing by the fireplace and Colt is glaring at him from where he’s leaning against the wall, I turn to Finn and ask, “What’s happening?”

Her lips lift into a smile, and she pats my hand before saying, “Start at the beginning.”

“Why?”

“Because if we’re going to prove you didn’t do this. We need all the information,” Colt says.

When I meet his gaze, he nods and although I’m still confused, warmth fills my chest, temporarily replacing the void that’s been dark since Buck was attacked, or maybe even before.

So, I start at the beginning, going over the events of that morning, including the bloody shirt and bruises on my arms.

“You never said anything about bruises,” Dirk growls and I shrug because at the time, it was less relevant than being doused in someone else’s blood.

There are so many things I would have done differently that night if I had known what was going to happen, but hindsight is definitely twenty-twenty. There’s not a damn thing I can do about it now.

After Dirk fills in his piece, describing how he brought me home after finding me at Gage’s, we discuss the rug at the house and my missing earring found within the fibers.

The further into the story we go, the blacker Colt’s scowl gets, and I bow my head when Ramie asks, “You don’t remember anything?”

“I think I was drugged,” I mumble, thoroughly humiliated by my own stupidity.

There are so many things I would have done differently that night, but hindsight is definitely twenty-twenty. There’s not a damn thing I can do about it now.

Ugh.

“Who?” Colt growls, interrupting my shame fest and I whip my head up. “Who fucking drugged you?”

“I took care of it,” Dirk interjects before I can respond.

“You did what?” I ask, turning to him. “When?”

Simultaneously, Colt says, “And I’ll do it again.”

When Hayden concurs and Ramie nods, I say, “You can’t just go around beating up everyone.”

This earns me three searing glares, and I raise my hands in defeat.

Crazy fuckers.

“So,” Colt says, turning his black scowl on Dirk, “when Dirk brought you home, there was no blood on you.”

“That’s what he says,” I mumble. Could Dirk be lying to protect me? To what end?

“She was fine. Drunk, but fine,” Dirk says.

“So, whatever happened, it went down in that house,” Ramie says and Hayden nods.

“Unless I left and came back,” I say but Dirk shakes his head.

“You were so out of it, I’m surprised you made it past the door.”

“Okay,” I mutter, once again avoiding eye contact with anyone. “Well, I think the last time anyone saw Buck was at Gage’s.”

From the corner of my eye, I see Dirk scratch his head and ask, “What?”

“Couple hours after I dropped you off, Buck showed up at another party, but Aimee wasn’t with him.”

“Was that the last place he was seen?” I wonder aloud.

“Sounds like it. Then he was attacked at the warehouse,” Colt says matter of factly, and I shiver.

I know none of them like him, but did he deserve to die because of it? I just don’t know.

“Let’s start with you,” Dirk says, and I meet his gaze. “There’s no way you left and came back. You need to talk to your mom.”

Dropping my head to my hands, I close my eyes and mumble, “She doesn’t know anything.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, she said she was at the office.”

“I doubt it,” Dirk says, and I whip my head up.

“Why?”

“She drive a white Beemer?”

When I nod, he says, “Her car was in the driveway when I dropped you off. You need to ask her. I’ll take you.”

“Hm,” Colt says, eyeing him sideways before saying, “I’ll ask around about that night. See if anything else shakes loose.”