Page 79 of Hate So Deep

NOW

Lauren

Although I don’t think Colt cared one way or the other about my missing their reception, I did send Finn a text apologizing.

Now, they’re in Hawaii celebrating their nuptials.

When I’m not thinking about my last moments with Dirk, both disturbingly hot and just disturbing, I’m obsessing about my last interaction with the police.

I can’t put this off any longer. I need more answers, but Gage was less than helpful, and Dirk denied seeing anything fishy that night.

I have to assume if he knew something he would fess up because he knows the shit storm I'm in. Although to be fair, our ending was less than amicable and maybe he’s washed his hands of me altogether.

Either way, I’m not prepared when I roll over and find Dirk standing in my room by the fucking door and I sit up just as he says, “We need to talk.”

“You fucking scared me,” I mutter but he merely raises a brow. “I don’t think there’s anything to say except fuck you. Oh, and fuck you.”

Once again, he’s immune which only ratchets my rage, and I roll my eyes before flopping to my back on the bed.

“What the fuck do you want?” I mutter.

My soul still stings from the cruel words he flung at me and now he’s here…in my fucking room.

How dare he?

Dare he does, I guess because he says, “I need to know what you remember about that night.”

That night. Of course, he’s not here to see me. Whatever was between us, it’s gone now.

He burned that shit to the ground and I’m tempted to tell him to fuck off and die but the possibility of going to jail for murder trumps my hurt feelings.

Fuck you, common sense.

Silently sighing, I cover my eyes with my arm and ask, “Why?”

“Why?” he says, waving around the room. “Because two days ago the police were interrogating you like a damn suspect.”

Since I can’t deny the shitstorm, I’m caught in and I’m seriously scared, I give in and mumble, “I remember the party with you…”

When he doesn’t say anything, I peek under my arm to find him glaring at the wall.

Okay, apparently reminding him that we fucked is a sore subject. Boo-fucking-hoo.

“I got drunk after,” I continue. “We went to another party but that’s where it gets hazy.”

“And your friend doesn’t remember anything important?”

Shaking my head, I close my eyes as regret washes through me. For all I know, I was raped, and I don’t know if it’s a blessing or not being in the dark.

“What about the texts?” he asks.

“I texted Buck and apparently he actually responded and came to get me.”

It’s totally unusual for my brother to care but maybe he was feeling nostalgic that night.

Who knows?

“How do you know he came?” Dirk asks.

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