Page 52 of Hate So Deep (Hate #4)

NOW

Lauren

Maybe it was the coward's way out, but after speaking to Dirk’s dad, I finally understood why he wanted me far away from his life and I let it go. While I would do anything for him, I don’t think he wants me to and that’s the crux of the matter.

If Stacey broke his heart, then his hatred for all things Academy and the “richies” blessed to be a part of it makes sense.

Does he compare me to her? If so, there’s fuck all I can do about it.

What’s even worse is wondering if he’s carried what happened with her into our non-existent relationship because I refuse to compete against a stupid, weak ass bitch.

I honestly don’t know what I would have done if I got pregnant but what I’ve learned through all the ridiculousness lately is that I may come from wealth but I’m also the girl who was taught through cruelty and disregard how important it is to find what brings you peace and grab on for dear life.

Despite the tenuous situations in which we found ourselves, Dirk was the one that made me feel free.

Now I don’t know what to think but I’m afraid to face the truth. That bitch gave away something she will never find again and while I’m grateful she did, I also don’t know if there’s a way to reconstruct Dirk’s heart if it’s been cruelly broken.

What truly batters my soul when I allow myself to think about it is the fact that Dirk doesn’t know what happened with that pregnancy.

When I look back over the words he spewed when he was at his cruelest, I see where they originate and it’s not pretty.

Of course, he’s never shared the experience with me but it’s clear to see how he feels about the richies, is that because in his mind, Stacey threw him away like yesterday’s trash?

At any rate, I’ve been moping like a complete dick, and I suppose I should be grateful that my family wanted me along, but I can’t push myself from the malaise plaguing me.

With Cat’s birthday a day away, we decided to meet at a swanky restaurant across town before spending the weekend at their resort and enjoying the indoor pool and spa.

Rather than ride together, I packed my shit and drove my own car for an easy escape if I need it. Although things have been better with Colt, there are still times that we butt heads and I’m not in the headspace to be butting anything.

I feel like a feral cat backed into a corner and I’m trying desperately hard not to lash out.

Colt and I have never spoken about my mother’s accusations, but I suspect her death has brought him that last bit of peace he needed to move on.

While I mourn her death quietly because she may have been a soul-sucking bitch, she was still my mom, I understand his relief and do my best to keep everything copacetic.

I haven’t been back to my childhood home since Dirk walked away after proclaiming that he killed my brother.

When I’m not sunk in guilt over the fact that my feelings for Dirk remain as passionate as before despite his confession, I’m also praying that in the end, Dirk survives the consequences.

Does that make me a shitty person? I quite simply don’t know. My relationship with Buck was complicated, that’s for sure but what it wasn’t, was loving or reciprocal in any fashion.

Buck wasn’t a nice human being. He killed his girlfriend. He conspired with my mother to frame me for the murder, even going so far as to accept drugging me as the only way to do it.

These aren’t the qualities of a brother that I can admire. However, in the quieter moments when it’s just me and my thoughts, I also mourn the brother that could never be.

They say love is blind and I concur because Dirk may never truly love me, but I do him and all I want is for him to get through this legal process and come out the other side a free man, whether that freedom includes me or not.

Since everyone still refuses to speak to me about the whole damn thing, I remain in the dark, but I have hope even if most days, it’s buried beneath the weight of my sorrow.

Now, I have to suck it up and spend the weekend pretending I’m not as broken as I feel on any given day. I know that if I don’t, my dad will suggest counseling again and I’m not prepared to go down that road either.

I don’t want to speak of the atrocities committed by my mother and brother. I just want to look Dirk in the eyes and see the same emotion I feel, shining back at me.

This is after I punch him in the dick, of course, for torturing the shit out of me.

The resort Dad chose sits on a cliff overlooking a huge lake.

The crystalline water sparkles in the oncoming dusk as I exit my car and adjust the hem of my little black dress.

I chose four-inch heels in the hopes of infusing something other than despair in my life and I regret it as soon as my feet hit the pavement.

When a sweet breeze blows across my arms, I exhale and make my way up the sidewalk toward the main entrance.

The music from the restaurant where we will be dining flows out of the floor to ceiling glass doors, standing open beyond the terrace.

It’s quite busy already but that doesn’t stop me from finding the man, standing at the railing, unerringly in the crowd.

My heart skips a beat at the sight and reminiscent of the last time I laid eyes on the jerk, I follow the line of his arm as he drinks from the bottle in his hands, spying a new tattoo.

Licking my lips to drum up some spit, I cover my confusion with a raised brow, simultaneously ordering my burning heart to proceed with caution.

What is he doing here?

This can’t be a coincidence. Right?

Of course, his sexy lean once he’s done kills me and when his lips pull into his wickedly beautiful smirk, I can’t help but to frown.

Is this a fucking game to him?

Asshole.

Ignoring the zing that cascades through my limbs when I lean against the railing beside him, I mutter, “Thirsty?”

Those gorgeous dark eyes drop to my dress, taking in the sweetheart neckline and the swell of my cleavage before roving over my stomach, down my legs and back.

When he licks his lips, I bite my own because fuck me, I will not let him see what he does to me.

“Always,” he breathes before chucking the half full bottle into the bin beside him.

Huh?

It’s all I have time to think before he wraps his hand around my neck and pulls me close, his mouth dropping over mine.

My traitorous heart thumps heavily at the sweet caress but it’s over before it starts when he breaks the kiss to grab my hand.

We’re halfway through the lobby of the hotel when I break from my stupor and tug on his arm, asking, “Where are we going?”

What the hell is going on?

“It’s just through here, baby girl,” he rasps as we step through the doors on the opposite side and proceed down a path leading to a series of bungalows.

I’m in daze, which is why I don’t protest as we wind down the path and onto another before he stops at one of the bungalows and produces a key card.

Once the door is open, I step inside, turning back to him as the door slams behind us and he approaches, a particular gleam in his eyes.

“Dirk? What’s going on? When did you get out?” I ask, backing toward the couch facing a flat screen television on the wall.

Adjacent to the small living space, there’s a table with two chairs leading to a small kitchenette no doubt stocked with the essentials for a weekend vacation.

“Well?” I ask, stepping around the couch to create much needed distance between us.

I mean the last time I saw him he was giving himself up to the authorities. Now he’s hanging out at a restaurant, drinking a fucking beer?

What gives?

His sigh fills the silence but I’m immune as he runs his hands through his hair leaving the strands adorably disheveled before saying, “A month ago. The murder charges were dropped.”

“Wait…what?” I whisper, touching the pounding pulse in my throat.

I’m afraid to speak, afraid to feel the hope wrapping around me like a warm blanket because if it’s been a month, where the fuck has, he been?

“C’mere,” he rasps, and I shake my head, until he holds out his hand. “Please, I need to feel you.”

Of course, I can’t resist the plea, and I move back around the couch before stepping into his arms.

When I tilt my chin, he pecks me on the lips. Before this can devolve any further though, I poke him in the chest and he steps back, leaning against the back of the couch.

Perhaps he’s trying to give me the space I need to process this shit, but I feel the loss of his warmth acutely.

That’s where it always leads with Dirk. I crave his warmth and he’s always leaving me cold.

Is that what’s about to happen again?

I don’t know if I can do this if that’s the case. I feel brittle enough already.

“Look,” he says, “as it turns out, Buck was playing with shit that he shouldn’t have been and offended the wrong assholes.”

“I don’t understand,” I mumble, touching my chest. My heart is beating so fast that I’m afraid I might have a panic attack, while my soul burns to hear the words I’ve needed since this fiasco began.

I choose you. I love you.

“Well,” he says, scratching his chin. “I still may have to face charges but they’re more worried about the fuckers who did the dirty deed. Either way, I’m sorry, Lauren.”

“That’s it? I’m sorry,” I bark, waving my hands around. “You left me. You wouldn’t talk to me. No one would talk to me.”

“I know but until I knew you were safe, I wasn’t risking anything,” he says, and I simultaneously want to knee him in the nads and jump on him to continue what we started. Neither is an option until there are no more lies between us.

“So, you did hurt my brother?” I ask and his brows flicker before he nods. “But you’re not responsible for his death?

“Look,” he rasps, grabbing my hand. “It’s not…he…fuck, your brother was buying and selling the date rape drugs. In the end, he messed with the wrong fucker, and they sent someone to fuck him up. It makes sense now. When you kept asking questions about him, the assholes got nervous.”

“Oh Buck,” I murmur, dropping my head to his chest.