Page 3 of Hate So Deep

Shuddering at the morbid thought, I step down the stairs and pause at the bottom.

It’s so damn quiet that a chill raises goosebumps on my arms as I head toward the kitchen. This is where I find Mom standing before the sink, while she seemingly stares at nothing, clutching an empty mug in her hand.

The coffee maker remains cold, and I flip the switch to start the brew, murmuring, “Mom?”

She barely twitches and my stomach sinks as I take the cup from her limp fingers and set it on the counter.

“Maybe you should sit down?” I say and she stiffens before pulling away.

“Your brother needs me. I’m going to the hospital.”

“Do you want me to go?”

“No. Stay here. Clean yourself up,” she barks, and I bow my head.

It would be useless to point out that I showered hours ago but the words tremble on my tongue anyway.

In any case, she doesn’t wait for a response, and I look up when she pauses at the door to say, “This is about your brothernow. Whatever happened last night, the only thing that matters is what happened to your brother. Do you understand?”

No, I really don’t but the intensity of her stare sends a shiver down my spine, and after I nod, she marches from the room.

Once she’s gone, I sag against the counter and rub my eyes.

I barely slept for the weird dreams of Buck and my mom interspersed with Dirk, my half-brother’s best friend, who I hadn’t seen in nine damn months before last night where we fucked like animals in the bathroom and he pushed me away…again.

Why is life always so fucking fucked?

Back in my room, I lock myself in the bathroom and read over the text from Caro before banging my head against the door.

This is all so messed up but the only thing I do have control over is finding out whatever happened after I blacked out, ended up at home without knowledge of how and covered in blood no less.

Lala:What happened last night?

Caro:I know, right? That was a wicked party!

Rubbing my aching brow, I consider the last memory I have before sending another message.

I think I drank too much. Did we go to a different party after Cory’s?

Caro:Ha, bitch! You must’ve been wasted. Yeah, and you were feeling no pain, I guess. Gage says hi btw

Vague images of dancing in a stranger’s living room cross my vision and I groan.

Why can’t I remember anything? How much did I fucking drink?

Lala:Gage? Is he…?

I know I should just outright ask but I feel stupid enough as it is. I knew better and somehow here I am, trying to retrace my night.

Caro:The dick you were riding. Yeah…so, how was it? I heard he’s a beast in bed, or was it Lover Boy who stoked that fire…?

Shit.

Images of Dirk in the bathroom rise once more and I touch my stomach. Despite everything that’s transpired between us, I still feel a pull toward him which is ridiculous because he’s the reason I got shit faced to begin with.

Ugh.

Did I fuck some stranger after? Is that where the bruises on my arms came from or maybe it was Dirk?

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