Page 108 of Hate So Deep

If that isn’t a kick to the face, I don’t know what would be…

“Ma’am,” one of the officers says, jerking me from my daze. “There are cameras at the front door. We need access to the footage.”

I forgot about those stupid cameras that Mom had installed after someone supposedly broke into our home last year. I still think it was Buck, but Mom insisted, and they were put up.

After Mom provides the information, she approaches me standing by my car and says, “Lauren?”

When I look up, her lips twist into an ugly sneer and she says, “Your father should be here for this.”

Meeting her icy eyes, I slowly nod but the message is garbled because I don’t understand the light shining from her eyes.

“He did this,” she says before turning back to the front door. “Go. Go to your dad’s.”

“Why?” I ask and she slashes her hand through the air.

“Because you don’t live here anymore.”

I haven’t spoken to my mom since her proclamation and the police haven’t stormed my dad’s house to arrest me which is a relief but plays out in the back of my mind almost constantly.

I don’t know what Dirk did with that rug, but I didn’t see him carting it out of the house, so I assume it’s only a matter of time.

I know I was missing the diamond stud the morning after Buck’s attack but was it me who dropped it on the rug or someone else?

The questions roll through my brain on repeat but with no answers, I’m slowly losing my mind which is why, strangely, I welcome the distraction when Colt and Finn return from their honeymoon and Celia hosts a dinner to welcome them back.

Of course, the minute Colt walks through the door, he frowns. I suspect he wasn’t expecting me to be here.

Oh well. I guess I’m here to stay and we’re both going to have to get used to it.

His displeasure fades to confusion though when Finn asks me what happened, and I repeat the vague accident story.

Like mother like son, Colt eyes my bruised cheek with questions I don’t know how to answer but I’m taking it as a win that he’s not boring hateful holes into my skull like last time.

My mom’s disgusting insinuations still stand between us but I’m hoping that Colt and Finn’s vacation eased some of that anger and we can let the subject drop.

While Colt and Finn go over their trip, I try not to be an ass and attempt to focus but after spending hours at school wherethere’s nothing ergonomic about the seating arrangements, compounded by the chairs in the dining room which are freaking uncomfortable, my ribs ache like a bitch.

“Let’s eat dessert in the living room,” Celia says because she’s a freaking saint.

Does the woman notice everything? Could she be a bitch about something to make me feel better?

Gah.

Unfortunately, today is a particularly bad day and I hobble my way to the living room to which Colt eyes me suspiciously again.

Once I’m as comfortable as I’m going to get, I decline dessert and proceed to zone out. These over-the-counter pain meds aren’t doing shit but I’m the dumbass who refused to go to the hospital.

However, the morning after the incident, I woke with new bruises conveniently in the shape of that asshole’s fingers on my arm which can’t be explained away by a car accident.

Either way, I have no choice but to confess when my dad and Celia leave the room and Colt turns to me with his flinty gaze once more, and says, “What fucking happened?”

I’m tempted to lie but the ferocity of his gaze leads me to believe he won’t be giving up anytime soon and I’m tired…sue me.

“Okay,” I groan. “I wasn’t in an accident.”

“Huh?” Finn says.

Simultaneously, Colt mutters, “Who?”

---