Page 90 of Hate So Deep

After setting me on a torn-up couch in the corner, Dirk switches on the light above my head. Meanwhile I can’t contain my sobs, and he hovers over me, his hands in the air as he grunts, “Fuck, Lauren. What hurts, baby?”

“My heart,” I wail, and he backs up a step, his brows scrunching.

“Huh?”

“You have a brother?”

While he looks on with his jaw at his knees, I punch him in the arm and immediately regret it because my ribs protest, sending a fiery trail across my abdomen.

“Fuck,” I mumble, and he grabs my cheeks, wiping the tears from my eyes before he says, “I have a sister too.”

“Great,” I mumble, and his sigh caresses my cheek.

“What happened, Lauren?”

“I–”

“What’s up, bro? Oh shit. You okay, Lala?” Cory says.

Coryis Dirk’s brother? Are you fucking kidding me?

“Is this your house?” I gasp when Dirk spins to Cory.

Slowly he turns back and raises a brow before saying to his brother, “Parties over. I want everyone out.”

“Sure, bro,” Cory says before looking at me. “You okay, Lala?”

Nodding, I bow my head and once he’s gone, Dirk tips my chin back and says, “What happened?”

It’s on the tip of my tongue to lash out because my chest burns, but I will that shit back and recount what happened, instead. I can freak out about our nonexistent relationship later.

All the while, he stares at me, the tic in his jaw bulging further with every word spoken and when I’m finished, he says, “You might have fractured ribs. We should get you to the hospital.”

“No,” I say, shaking my head.

“Yes.”

“Nope.”

“Lauren,” he groans, standing and pacing away. “You’re hurt. I can’tfixthis.”

“You don’t have to,” I say, my chest clenching at the desperate light behind his eyes when he drops to his knees before me.

“I’m not asking. We go.”

“Dirk,” I say, brushing my fingers over his bottom lip. He has amazing, soft, and plush lips. “I’m not going.”

“Why?”

“Because I can’t make this worse. They’ll ask questions I can’t answer.”

Averting his gaze, he glares at the wall. “If this is about those fuckers, don’t worry. They’ll never touch you again.”

“This isn’t about them,” I say, grabbing his chin and forcing him to look at me. “This is about my mother. Besides, you’re not going to do shit. Aren’t you supposed to be at boot camp?”

“No, it was extended,” he says, his eyes flickering to the bruise on my cheek.

“You won’t do anything. Right? Promise me?” I beg and he shakes his head.

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