Page 61 of Shattered Hate

“What?” I ask, completely clueless about what he’s talking about.

“Your uncle—it was him.” His face twists in pain, and tears well up in his eyes. “I know. I know.” He screams into the empty room, and I look around, only to find no one else there.

“Dad,” I whisper softly. He begins muttering to himself, saying things I can’t understand. “Dad,” I repeat, but he doesn’t even look at me, just continues staring at the wall with a blank expression, mumbling random words.

What has happened to him?

I step back, but he remains fixated on that same spot. I leave the trailer and eventually the park, my mind racing. I can’tbelieve how, in just a few months, he’s fallen so far. How did this happen? And what really went down? I know I should call Marley, but with everything that’s happened today, I just want to crawl into bed.

“Oh shit, sorry,” I say as I bump into someone on the walkway. I catch a glimpse of sandy-brown hair with blond tips—a look that’s unusual for guys these days—which makes me pause as he lowers his head and tries to slip away.

“Ashton,” I call out. This is my chance to finally find out what the fuck happened that night and why he left. After everything that’s already gone wrong today, what’s the harm in one more?

He turns to me, his expression more of a wince than anything else.

“Look,” I say. “If you don’t like me, that’s fine, but can you at least tell me what the fuck happened that night? When did things go wrong? Or are you just a rude cunt?” I’m already done with today, and the more I look at his face, the angrier I get. I’m sick of walking on eggshells around people—they can kiss my fucking ass.

He glances around like he’s plotting an escape. “For fuck’s sake, just tell me,” I snap.

“A guy approached me.” He hesitates, and I’m confused—did some guy come up to ask him out, and he just bailed?

“Come on, spit it out.”

“He told me you gave him chlamydia,” he rushes out, wincing.

I stand there dumbfounded for a moment before bursting into laughter. It’s one messed-up prank, and this is the reason I’ve practically been cleaning up the aftermath for a month because of some fucking lie.

I can’t stop laughing, tears streaming down my face, as Ashton just stares at me, his eyebrows knitted together like I’ve completely lost my mind. “Did this guy give you a name?” I ask, finally managing to catch my breath and wipe my eyes.

“No,” he replies, his frown deepening with concern and confusion.

“So you just trusted some random guy?” I press, raising an eyebrow as I try to make sense of the situation. He looks at me, hesitating for a moment as if weighing his words.

“Well, yeah. He seemed really upset when he told me,” Ashton explains. “He knew your name too,” he adds, as if that alone should justify his decision.

“What did he look like?” I ask, my curiosity piqued despite the growing unease in my chest.

“Tall, striking eyes… dark chocolate-brown hair, and quite muscular. Really handsome.” Ashton describes the guy, his eyes distant as he recalls the encounter. My heart sinks like a stone thrown into a deep well.

“Is there anything else you remember about him?” I push, trying to keep my voice steady as I brace myself for his reply.

Ashton stands there, fingers tapping lightly against his chin, deep in thought. “Oh yeah, he had plastic wrap around one arm, like from a fresh tattoo,” he finally says, snapping back to the present. I inhale sharply, my chest constricting, and a sickening churn starts in my stomach. I don’t answer Ashton. Instead, I turn on my heel and walk away, my mind spinning.

“So it’s not true, then?” he calls after me, visibly confused but showing signs of hope. But my anger is already boiling over.

“Go to hell,” I shout back over my shoulder. I am shaking with fury. I can’t believe Trayton did this. A vivid memory flashes through my mind—Trayton comforting me the next day, pulling me from that ice. All along, it was he who ruined my night. It was he who made me feel worthless.

Well, screw you, Trayton King. I yank my phone from my pocket, my fingers trembling as I re-download the dating app I had once sworn off. I need to get over him, to erase every trace of Trayton from my life, and forget about the tangled mess withmy dad. I need someone new, someone who will help me forget Trayton ever existed.

Chapter thirty

Trayton

Me:

What you doin?

Ifix my eyes on the screen, anticipating the little bubbles that will show Daxton is typing. I’m not entirely sure why I’m messaging him at this moment. I just can’t seem to get him out of my head. There’s this overwhelming craving for him that I can’t shake. I don’t even know when this shifted. When did I stop despising him? And when did I turn into someone who can’t stop thinking about him? Here I am, on a Saturday night, unable to stop obsessing over a guy I’m supposed to hate. I see the two ticks turn blue, yet there’s no reply. I wait for a few more minutes, growing more impatient. Five minutes pass, and there’s still no response. Daxton Rivers just left me on read. Seriously? I sit here fuming, wondering what the hell is going on. Then I remember—I’ve still got his location linked to mine. I open the app and am surprised to see he’s at some bar in the city.Why is he there? It’s a half-hour drive from campus. “Kal,” I say, still staring at the flashing dot.

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