Page 50 of Hate So Deep (Hate #4)

NOW

Lauren

An hour later, I ease from the couch and a sleeping Dirk before tiptoeing into the den.

Through the picture window, snow falls from the sky in fat flakes while I sit before the cold hearth.

I can’t avoid this any longer and maybe it’s Dirk’s presence, albeit unknowingly, but it gives me the courage to delve into shit that I’ve avoided the past few days.

This is why I find myself standing in my mom’s room. The footage from the camera at the front door indicated that my mom lied about being home that night.

At a minimum, she was here when Dirk dropped me off around midnight.

Why would she lie?

Did she know that Buck texted me? She knew enough to tell me that he was coming to pick me up and bring me home.

How?

Although she’s always been overprotective regarding Buck, her behavior the last few weeks has been beyond strange.

Was it something more than grief that possessed her to destroy her room and mine?

She knew this home inside and out, since she was practically a drill sergeant about it, so how did she miss the fact that the blue rug was gone from the upstairs hall?

Or did she?

What about the missing footage from that night? Is it possible it’s saved somewhere that Buck or my mom wouldn’t know how to delete it?

I don’t know but I have to try, and this is when I tiptoe to the closet and drop to the floor beside her safe.

Ever the planner, Mom always kept a spare laptop inside to ensure that even if the original was stolen, she would still have the information she needed to run her business.

Did the police search the safe? It’s possible but no one beyond the four of us, Mom, Dad, Buck, and I knew about the alternate version built into the floor.

This is where I focus my efforts because I know to my bones that if she hid anything worth finding, here is where it would be.

Dirk’s earlier suggestion about using Buck’s birthday was a wise one and I sit back once the safe is open, eyeing the contents with a frown.

Despite her being gone, I still expect her to walk in at any moment and rain down hell upon me for being here, but I shove aside the guilt over searching through her things because I have to know if she betrayed me.

Not only for my sanity but because this is my life on the line and she was not exactly forthcoming with her sympathy or concern.

Inside, there are documents that I assume lead back to Mom’s estate, jewelry that she hardly ever wore and a few items of my grandfather’s that I set in a different pile.

A pretty little wooden box reveals, what I presume to be Buck’s first tooth and a lock of his blonde hair resting on a silken blue pillow.

Unsurprisingly, there isn’t anything of the sort for me, but I do find a sandwich bag sitting on top of another box, filled with a wad of dark hair.

It’s long and snarled and an odd keepsake but Mom did not have dark hair, and my dad has always kept his shorn short.

Setting it aside, I eye the last box before tipping the lid. Although I’m relieved to have not found anything incriminating so far, this doesn’t solve the mystery of the pills sitting pretty as you please on the kitchen counter.

It’s a cell phone and after picking it up, I turn it over in my hands before pausing on the glittering name etched into the case on the back.

Aimee…with a fucking heart dotting the I.

But the police said they pinged her phone in Turner Park, right?

So, why would it be here?

I guess it doesn’t matter because it’s the evidence I needed to confirm that my mother, at a minimum, knew about Buck’s plan to frame me for her murder.

Yes, it’s possible that I tussled with Aimee. Even though it’s a long shot, I may have been able to move her body, but there’s no fucking way I took her phone and hid it in this safe.

My mother knew about Aimee’s death, and she hid the information from the police. I’m sure it was to protect her son but when Buck died, it no longer mattered.

She also refused to help me when the focus of the investigation turned in my direction. Why?

Either she really hated me enough to not fucking care or she was covering up something else and that something has to be her participation in it.

Now, I know the truth but how do I accept the fact that my mother was willing to sacrifice me for her precious son?

She must have been completely fucking shocked when Buck ended up comatose in the hospital.

Ha!

This is when tears build in my eyes because that awful woman created this entire mess and then left me to pick up the pieces.

But the sobs ripping from my throat aren’t just for me. I cry for Colt and the nightmares she created for a young man who didn’t deserve to be assaulted and even Buck because what chance did, we have with a woman like that ruling our lives?

When the tears dry up and my stomach begins to burn, I leave that bedroom behind, determined to never step foot in it again.

It’s time to end this once and for all and when I find Dirk in the hall, I collapse into his arms, unable to form words for the emotion rocketing through my system.

“What is it, baby girl?” he asks, and I shake my head.

How could she do this? Why ?

“Sh,” he says, rocking me gently.

“She was going to blame me,” I mumble against his chest, and he pauses.

“What?”

“She hated me,” I sob, shoving the phone in his hands.

He eyes the phone before turning it over, much like I did. Although his mouth curls into a frown, he doesn’t comment as he wraps me up in his arms once more.

Snuggling close, I sob into his chest, all the hope I harbored despite the circumstances falling away as despair takes its place.

The bitch was willing to sacrifice me to save her precious son and even after it was too fucking late because Buck was attacked, she still didn’t back off.

Hell, she could’ve left a note before she hanged herself but no, here we are…

I only blink from my daze when Dirk grabs my cheeks and presses a kiss to my nose. Under any other circumstances I would be charmed but all I can mumble is, “What do I do now?”

“You tell the police.”

“What if they don’t believe me? What if…I mean, I could have hidden the phone,” I say, and he shakes his head.

“Lauren, you didn’t kill Aimee. You need to tell them what you know.”

“Just like that?” I ask, meeting his dark eyes.

“Just like that.”

It sounds so simple but there’s a pit in my stomach a mile wide. I’m scared to do this.

It’s stupid, but I’m terrified and chewing my lip, I look away as I ask, “Will you go with me?”

The silence that follows fills my chest with dread and I bow my head before summoning a wretched smile. Maybe it was too much to ask.

There’s so much unresolved between us and it’s unfair to involve him in my mess. He’s already delayed leaving to help me find answers, all while waiting for his life to start.

It’s gone on long enough.

With an uneasy chuckle, I go to move off his lap but he grabs my cheeks once more, rasping, “Lauren?”

“Yeah?”

“Look at me.”

Those deep, dark eyes that I’ve come to crave seeing in my darkest moments search mine before he kisses my nose and says, “I can’t do this with you, baby girl and I’m so fucking sorry.”

Although my heart skips a bit at the desperation in his tone, I’m still confused, and I shake my head. Before I can ask what he means, he says, “It will only look worse if we’re seen together.”

Huh?

“I don’t understand,” I whisper, my heart sinking when his lips pull into a bitter smirk.

“You will.”

With that, he sets me aside and stands. Dazed, I stumble toward the door after him as he says, “Tell your dad and your lawyer. Yeah?”

“Okay,” I say, following him into the hall. “What’s going on, Dirk?”

At the front door, he pauses with his hand on the knob and says, “I am who I am.”

“And you won’t change,” I mumble, brushing away a tear.

Is it possible to die from the pain crushing my chest?

Why is he leaving me now? After everything?

Why won’t he just choose me?

“I would’ve for you,” he rasps, and I whip my head up, “but it’s too late.”

“Wait…what?” I gasp, reaching for his arm but he’s through the door before I can touch him and I follow, grasping my chest.

“Why? What are you saying,” I cry, and he stops by his truck, staring at the winter landscape. “Dirk?”

Shaking his head, he opens the truck door and says, “Because I killed your brother.”

At first his words don’t penetrate, and I stare at him dumbly while he slides into the truck before I snap out of my daze and rush forward to grasp his coat.

“Where are you going?” I ask.

“To do the right thing.”

“No. No!”

He gently pushes me away as I reach for him and sob, “Don’t leave me.”

“Fuck, Lauren. I’m sorry,” he groans, running his hand over his face. “I have to. I’m sorry.”

“No, we can figure this out together. We can,” I gasp, beating the weakened muscle of my heart in my chest.

“Stop,” Dirk growls, grabbing my hand. “Just stop. You’re stronger than this, baby girl. You’re the strongest person I fucking know.”

“I’m not,” I whisper, and he touches my hair.

“Yes, you fucking are.” he says before slamming the door closed and starting the truck.

In a daze, I back away as he reverses out of the driveway, swaying in the bitter cold while he disappears out of sight and never looks back.