Page 110 of Hate So Deep

Nope, after searching my home, they found what they suspect might be blood in my room.

I guess the blood from that fucking shirt transferred to the bed, either that or I fought with Aimee there because DNA testing confirmed it was hers.

I can tell by the surprise on my dad’s face that Mom never mentioned any of this and I can’t help but wonder if it’s because she can’t face her own delusions anymore.

Buck was not a nice guy. In fact, he was a complete asshole, but did he hurt Aimee or did I? And why did Buck end up at some vacant lot where he was beaten to death?

Where the fuck is Aimee?

“Miss Stark,” the detective says, his gaze moving between me and my lawyer.

Dad was banned from the room, and I guess they can do that now that I’m eighteen.

“We need to know why Aimee’s blood was found in your room.”

It’s on the tip of my tongue to say I don’t know when my lawyer raises his hand and says, “Don’t answer that.”

The detective frowns and splays his hands. “Look, I don’t think you’re a killer, Miss Stark but shit don’t add up and there’s a girl out there somewhere that wants to go home.”

Judging by the blood soaked into my shirt, I’m not sure sheisalive, but I can’t exactly say that without admitting that Dirk disposed of the evidence.

Dirk. Is he still in town?

I haven’t heard from him. Does this mean he’s gone, or…?

“This is serious,” the detective says, slamming his hand against the table.

Flinching, I bow my head but when I don’t respond he continues, “What happened to your face? Why don’t we start there?”

“I think we’re done here,” my lawyer says. “Unless you plan to charge her?”

I hold my breath while the detective drills me with his stare before he waves his hand. “Not yet. You think long and hard about what I said, Miss Stark. That girl needs to be brought home.”

Nodding, I follow my lawyer out to the lobby where my dad is pacing. As soon as he sees me, he says, “Thank god. Are you okay?”

I’m not. I don't think anything about this situation qualifies as okay but thankfully my lawyer interjects to say, “It’s only a matter of time before they arrest her, Trent. We need to be proactive about this. Can you bring her to my office tomorrow?”

After making arrangements for the following day, we head to the car.

My bones creak as I get in beside Dad and he backs from the space. The ride home is quiet while I stare at the passing scenery in a daze, the only sound, Dad’s fingers as he taps the steering wheel.

When we pull into the drive, he puts the car in park and says, “Just tell me this, Lala. Did you kill that girl?”

Swallowing, I turn to him and say, “I don’t know.”

Later when I wake, I roll over and stare at the ceiling, once again pondering everything that’s happened until Dirk says beside me, “Are you okay, baby girl?”

As soon as I hear his voice, tears fill my eyes, and I turn into his embrace. I can’t speak for the sobs ripping from my throat but through it all, he holds me, his fingers stroking down my back.

When I eventually calm, he tips my head and kisses my nose before saying, “I’m sorry. I came as soon as I heard.”

“Where did you go?” I whisper, glad to be speaking about anything but the mess I’ve gotten myself into.

“I had to take care of a few things,” he says.

“What kind of things?” I ask, holding my breath.

Will he include me in this part of his world? I so desperately want to understand the man he is, but he’s adept at shutting me out.

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