Page 134 of Hate So Deep

“Lauren, you didn’t kill Aimee. You need to tell them what you know.”

“Just like that?” I ask, meeting his dark eyes.

“Just like that.”

It sounds so simple but there’s a pit in my stomach a mile wide. I’m scared to do this.

It’s stupid, but I’m terrified and chewing my lip, I look away as I ask, “Will you go with me?”

The silence that follows fills my chest with dread and I bow my head before summoning a wretched smile. Maybe it was too much to ask.

There’s so much unresolved between us and it’s unfair to involve him in my mess. He’s already delayed leaving to help me find answers, all while waiting for his life to start.

It’s gone on long enough.

With an uneasy chuckle, I go to move off his lap but he grabs my cheeks once more, rasping, “Lauren?”

“Yeah?”

“Look at me.”

Those deep, dark eyes that I’ve come to crave seeing in my darkest moments search mine before he kisses my nose and says, “I can’t do this with you, baby girl and I’m so fucking sorry.”

Although my heart skips a bit at the desperation in his tone, I’m still confused, and I shake my head. Before I can ask what he means, he says, “It will only look worse if we’re seen together.”

Huh?

“I don’t understand,” I whisper, my heart sinking when his lips pull into a bitter smirk.

“You will.”

With that, he sets me aside and stands. Dazed, I stumble toward the door after him as he says, “Tell your dad and your lawyer. Yeah?”

“Okay,” I say, following him into the hall. “What’s going on, Dirk?”

At the front door, he pauses with his hand on the knob and says, “I am who I am.”

“And you won’t change,” I mumble, brushing away a tear.

Is it possible to die from the pain crushing my chest?

Why is he leaving me now? After everything?

Why won’t he just choose me?

“I would’ve for you,” he rasps, and I whip my head up, “but it’s too late.”

“Wait…what?” I gasp, reaching for his arm but he’s through the door before I can touch him and I follow, grasping my chest.

“Why? What are you saying,” I cry, and he stops by his truck, staring at the winter landscape. “Dirk?”

Shaking his head, he opens the truck door and says, “Because I killed your brother.”

At first his words don’t penetrate, and I stare at him dumbly while he slides into the truck before I snap out of my daze and rush forward to grasp his coat.

“Where are you going?” I ask.

“To do the right thing.”

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