Page 47 of Hate So Deep (Hate #4)

NOW

Lauren

To be honest, I’m dreading any sort of conversation with my mother because she’s not going to appreciate any line of questioning regardless of whether my life is on the line.

It’s a sad fact but she doesn’t care about what happens to me. She never did unless it was to use me as a tool in her never-ending fight with my dad.

Besides, I don’t know how to face her knowing that she’s done some fucked up shit. I don’t know the extent and maybe that’s a good thing but the woman who has drilled manners and etiquette into my brain since I was old enough to walk is the ultimate hypocrite and that shit burns.

It’s quiet on the ride over and I’m lost to my thoughts until Dirk says, “Lauren?”

“Hm?”

“You’re just asking your mom to help, baby girl.”

Glancing at him sideways, I choke back a laugh and say, “Nothing is ever easy with my mom, Dirk.”

He tips his head and says, “I get it, but this isn’t some petty shit. We’re talking about your life.”

“Dirk…” Waving my hand in the air, I say, “She doesn’t care.”

“I’m sure that’s not true,” he says and this time I do laugh.

“We’re talking about the same woman, right? The one everyone hates. The reason you’ve chosen Colt and his family over me?”

Silence descends between us until he clears his throat and says, “It’s not that simple but yeah.”

It seems pretty simple to me but whatever.

Ignoring the burn in my chest, I turn back to the window because he can’t possibly understand what I’m about to walk into and pretending that whatever is or isn’t going on between us remains a fucking issue does not relieve the anxiety coursing through my system on wings of fire.

“Yes,” he says, “at the beginning, I didn’t want to betray my brother.”

I roll my eyes but don’t respond and he continues, “He’s my best fucking friend, baby girl. We’ve seen and done shit…”

Although my curiosity is peaked, I remain silent, and he sighs. “It doesn’t really matter. Back then, I was stupid. I knew better and I still did shit I shouldn’t have.”

With me? Wow.

Wherever this is going, I’m not impressed.

“I can’t say I’m sorry,” he says, and a shiver rolls down my spine. “But I’m not staying, baby girl. There’s nothing for me here and once this is done, I’m out.”

Push the knife a little deeper, asshole.

“What are you saying?” I ask.

Shaking his head, he pulls into the driveway, and I eye Mom’s vehicle as he says, “I’d fuck you again and again if that were an option but that’s where it would end.”

While he puts the truck in park, I turn to him, eyeing his ticking jaw and the way his fingers curl into fists on the wheel.

I’m equally annoyed and thrilled because at least he’s not completely denying some sort of feeling for me, but I don’t understand the meaning behind his words.

Turning his head, he meets my gaze, those dark eyes glittering and says, “I’ll never be what you need.”

“What makes you think you know what I need?”

The corner of his lip curves and he says, “What makes you think I don’t? You’re looking for something, Lauren but it’s not me you should be looking to do it.”

“Do what?” I whisper.

“I’m not the man who’s going to make you feel loved, baby girl.”

My stomach burns at his words, but I shove that shit aside. He thinks he knows me.

Fine.

Maybe I am searching for meaning because right now nothing makes sense, but he doesn’t get it.

I’m not attracted to Dirk because I’m craving love, at least not in the way he’s implying.

Dirk is the only one who pulls me from the abyss when I’m falling backward and maybe it’s not the healthiest of methods, but it works for me.

Still, I have more dignity than arguing with him. He doesn’t want me, okay, then get the fuck out of my life.

All this rolls around in my head until he nods to the door. “Go on.”

Right. I need to confront my psycho mother because Dirk needs to move on.

Where that leaves me is exactly where I stand now, fucking alone.

Pushing the door open, I drop to the ground and stare blindly at the house. Just before closing the door, I rasp, “Just fucking go, Dirk. I don’t need your pity and I sure as shit don’t fucking care about your opinions.”

After that, I march inside the house and I’ll give him this for the first few minutes that I search for my mother, I’m blissfully blinded by rage until I, once again, find her in the fucking basement and my earlier reservations about this roll through me again.

This time, she’s farther into the room and at first, I don’t see her because she’s on her knees but when her head pops up as I stop at the bottom of the stairs, we lock eyes, and my heart sinks to my toes.

We stare at each other for a few minutes before she stands, brushing off her pants and says, “What are you doing here?”

Eyeing her hair, a halo around her face, I try to remember the last time I saw her this, well, casual I guess but come up empty.

Hell, she’s even missing the strand of pearls she perpetually wears and it’s this that pushes me off kilter.

“Well?” she snaps, and I swallow before raising my palms.

“The police, they think something happened to Aimee here. They…they think I did something to her.”

Although her brows flicker, she shows no other emotion while she drills me with her icy stare before saying, “Did you?”

“I…no. No!”

“Then what’s the problem? I don’t have time for your hysterics, Lauren.”

Jesus this bitch is ice cold.

How do I reach her when she quite simply doesn’t care?

“Is that it?” she asks, and I shake my head.

“I wanted to know…”

What? If I ask her if she was here that night, she’s going to attack but that’s ultimately why I’m here.

“What? Jesus Lauren, just spit it the fuck out. You’re just like your father,” she mutters.

Ignoring the shards of ice pressing at my spine, I exhale slowly before saying, “Do you think it’s possible that Buck did it?”

The silence that greets me is so fucking unbearable that I shrink away while she stares at me.

I’m considering just walking away when she shrugs and says, “Does it matter now?”

“Wh-What?” I mumble.

I was totally expecting her to jump all over my ass and well, now I don’t know what to say.

“If he did, he’s fucking dead,” she spits, eyeing me like I’m the stupid one.

“Mom,” I whisper, “they think it was me. If he did it, then I need to know. They need to know.”

Turning away, she stares at the pile of boxes that at one time were neatly packed against the wall and following her gaze, I take in the shit sprawled across the floor.

What is she looking for?

“Get a good lawyer,” she says, and I frown.

That’s it? What the actual fuck?

“Mom–”

“I don’t have time for this, Lauren. You’re eighteen. Figure it out.”

Basically dismissed, I watch her pull another box from the shelf and drop it to the floor. When she opens the box, I spy a frilly dress that I wore for my fifth birthday on top and smile, albeit bitterly, when she pushes it to the side and grabs for another.

Backing away, I say at the stairs, “Did you ever love me…at all?”

At first, I don’t think she’s going to answer, and I turn to the steps, pausing when she says, “I had you to keep my farce of a marriage together, Lauren. You weren’t anything but a symbol of what a bastard your father is. Remember that when he’s fucking his whore tonight.”

Right. Okay…

Blinking back my tears, I rush up the stairs and emerge into the kitchen where I backtrack to the front door, but I can’t go out there like this, assuming Dirk is still here.

Instead, I move up to the second floor and stop outside my room. It still looks like a tornado blew through and I can only imagine what the police were looking for.

If Aimee was murdered, does that mean that they’re trying to link the shit in here back to her?

I simply don’t know and that’s what scares me.

Walking to the window, I spy Dirk’s truck idling outside before sitting on the bed.

The truth is, it doesn’t matter what we say or do, my mother will not lift a finger to help me and whether she was here or not has become a moot point.

She’d rather see me fry.

However, that’s the first thing he’s going to ask me when I get in that damn truck and I’m ashamed to admit just how fucking cruel my mom is.

Dirk did insist that her vehicle was there that night though and there is another way to confirm his story.

If the police were asking about the camera footage, then maybe they already have evidence of her lies.

Either way, I won’t know unless I check for myself.

Mom insisted we all download the app after the break-in a few years ago when she installed two cameras, one at the front door and the other at the back.

After pulling it up, I search back to that day and watch with my heart in my throat as I stagger from Dirk’s truck and into the house.

Mom’s car is indeed further up the driveway but after a few minutes, the video cuts out and moves on to the next day.

Strangely, the hours before are gone when presumably Buck came home with Aimee.

Did Buck mess with the recordings that night too?

Pressing play on the video for the day after, I watch as it replays my hasty departure to the hospital and return a few hours later.

I look like shit, no surprise but what sends a kernel of awareness down my spine after I fast forward to Mom coming home, is when she enters the house, looking no less put together, and glances at the camera in the corner before her brows furrow.

This leaves me wondering if my own mother destroyed the evidence of Buck’s actions.

If so, with him gone, even now, she can’t give me a fucking clue to save my own damn life.

Wisely, Dirk doesn’t speak when I get in the truck, but I know it's just a matter of time before he asks so I eventually mutter, “She didn’t say shit.”

That about sums it up. No need to get into the particulars.

Despite knowing that Dirk has a healthy dislike for my mother, I’m still not prepared to reveal the depths of her disinterest in me, her only fucking daughter and surviving child.

“What did she say about her car?” he asks and I mentally sigh.

Chewing my lip, I consider how much to reveal before shrugging. Fuck it.

This isn’t my deal. Dirk doesn’t care anyway and as far as he’s concerned, I’m a project to tackle or some shit before he blows this town and never comes back.

Inexplicably, my thoughts turn to Kayla but whether he plans to take her with or dump her ass isn’t my business, even if I’d like to throw it in his face.

Is it that he can’t love me , or he can’t love anyone?

What a sad, pathetic fucking excuse.

“She told me that I’m eighteen. She told me to figure it out. Oh, and to get a good lawyer,” I mutter.

When silence greets me, I glance at him sideways before he says, “Jesus, your mother is a Grade-A bitch.”

Silently concurring, I go straight to my room when we get home because I can’t face anyone in my present state of mind.

Unfortunately, I have limited time to process shit because next up I have another grueling meeting with my lawyer in which, as I sit across from him, it’s easy to see that he doesn’t believe me.

Asshole.

Either way, it’s clear that the clock is ticking and without any answers to give to the police, I’m sure they’ll be at my door any minute.

What’s worse is that with my dad sitting beside me, I couldn’t bring myself to mention the recording I found because even now, I’m afraid to do something that will further the divide between us.

I need my mom, but she doesn’t need me and there’s fuck all I can do about it.

I’m tired. I’ve been lying to everyone including myself. There’s no way my family wasn’t involved in this crime and hiding evidence while the Holmes family waits for justice for their daughter is cruel.

However, I don’t have the answers and the longer this plays out the more I’m certain I’m going to lose my mind.

Dirk

I feel no satisfaction for the words I threw at Lauren on the way to see her mother, but it worked. She was spitting fire when she marched inside her childhood home.

Unfortunately, when she emerged, she was back to the defeated girl I loathe to see.

It took everything in me not to pull her into my arms but the farther into this that we go the closer I am to wanting something that I cannot have.

I saw the hope burning in her eyes when I finally confessed to Colt what we did, and it fucking killed me because I am leaving and that’s a fact.

I’m doing her a favor whether she realizes it or not, although my soul burns knowing that I cut her down right before her mother did the same.

I’m an asshole, it’s true but it brings me no peace to do these things.

After dropping her at home, I head across town. Although I finally told Colt the truth about us, and that’s a relief that I can’t really define, there's still more to this story and until I figure it out and see it to the end, I can’t leave.

This means that I’ve been cruising through town and speaking to everyone I know not only about Buck but about Aimee and even Lauren.

Unfortunately, this is going to eventually lead back to the cops, but I guess it’s the price that I’m going to pay for trying to find the answers.

After the altercation with Colt, he hasn’t really spoken to me again, but I know that it’s coming, and I will have to reveal part of those truths, even if it doesn’t include the depth of the feeling that I have for his sister.

In that respect I’m going to lie because it’s the only way, at least that’s what I’m telling myself.