Page 105 of Hate So Deep

“Dirk?” I whisper and he blinks before meeting my gaze. "Did I kill Aimee?"

“Come here,” he says, pulling me into his arms, and I snuggle into his warmth.

I thought the worst things to ever happen to me were in the past, but it would seem I was woefully naive.

Now I’m facing something that I fear will change me forever and the thought terrifies me because it doesn't go unnoticed that Dirk never answered my question.

Chapter 39

THEN

Lauren

An hour later, I’m chasing away the ache riding my chest but as the brutal burn of the alcohol makes its way down my esophagus, it lands in my stomach like a lead weight.

“One more drink. One more drink. One. More. Drink.” The world blurs before me as I grab the shot and toss it back.

Uh oh.

Stumbling away, I ignore the laughter that follows me down the hall before dropping to my knees beside the toilet and shoving my finger down my throat.

It tastes really fucking disgusting when it makes it’s way back up but I have a few minutes of peace before the nausea starts over again.

“Fuck,” I moan and drop my head to my arm. “Why did I take that last shot?”

“Because you can’t back down from a challenge,” Caro says before she grabs my shoulder. “C’mon, let’s get you home.”

“I don’t wanna go home,” I groan.

She pats my back before wrenching on my arm. “It’ll be fine tomorrow.”

“How?”

Images of Mom’s cold, bitter stare rise in my head, but I push them away. I can’t deal with her disapproval and my roiling stomach at the same time.

The Starks aren’t like other people, Lauren. You would do well to remember that.

Of course, Buck goes out all the damn time and does whatever he wants but my brother is her fucking prince while most days, I feel like I’m the dog shit the staff forgot to pick up in the damn yard.

Besides, once I roll into bed, I know I’ll be reliving what Dirk said to me in that bathroom.

You’re not welcome here.

Ugh.

“Fucking asshole.” I mumble as I stagger behind Caro.

“Hm,” she hums.

The walk to the car is a blur and I roll my head against the seat while she drives before saying, “C’mon Caro. It’s not even midnight. Let’s go somewhere else.”

She glances at me sideways and mumbles, “Fine. No more drinks.”

“Yay,” I say, clapping my hands and she winces.

“Don’t ever do that again.”

“Okay, okay. Where are we going?”

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