Page 66 of Hate So Deep

Ignoring the kernel of unease, I shrug and say, “I guess it doesn’t matter what you think. The police do.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” he growls. “Why would they think that?”

“Because, apparently, we texted that night and he agreed to bring me home. The weird thing is that I deleted the conversation.”

When Dirk turns to me, his eyes wide, I laugh helplessly and say, “Why would I delete a text like that?”

“Jesus Lauren, none of this makes sense.”

“I know,” I cry, covering my face and we drop back into silence.

It’s not fair to blame him for my bad decisions but he’s the safer bet and I let the anger curl through me before I blow from the vehicle when we pull up to the curb, annoyed when he’s not far behind.

I wouldn’t have drank half a bottle of tequila if he hadn’t brushed me off again that night. The events that followed would never have happened if the callous dick would just leave me the fuck alone.

Unfortunately, the detective is already waiting and gritting my teeth, I slide into the seat opposite while Dirk grabs a chair from another table and plunks it down beside me.

The detective looks from me to Dirk in his ridiculous outfit before holding out his hand. “Detective Adams, NSPD.”

Dirk’s brows furrow as he introduces himself and once the formalities are over, the detective turns to me and says, “There’s been a development in the case.”

Why he couldn’t tell me this over the phone I don’t know but I don’t want to take my frustration out on the man.

“Okay,” I say, as he steeples his fingers before his mouth.

Eyeing the slight wing of silver at his temples, I shift in the uncomfortable chair, while he seems to gather his thoughts.

I feel Dirk’s curiosity practically vibrating between us but I’m in no mood to slake it. The asshole shouldn’t even be here.

“Here’s the thing, Miss Stark. I don’t think Aimee Holmes ever left your house that night.”

When I don’t answer, frozen with fear, the detective’s eyes slide to Dirk before he says, “Maybe we should have this conversation alone?”

A laugh bubbles in my chest, but I bite that shit back because Dirk doesn’t give two shits about my privacy.

Case in point, he leans forward and says, “Get to the point, detective. We don’t have all day.”

This earns him a stony glare which Dirk ignores, sitting back in his seat and raising a brow.

The detective's gaze drops to Dirk’s coat and his lip curls before he says, “You left some information out of your story, Miss Stark.”

My throat dries and I try to summon some spit to speak. Apparently, I’m not quick enough though because the detective says, “I think you’re lying. I don’t know why but now’s the time to tell it straight because I’m not going to be nice the next time.”

“How about you tell us what you found, detective?” Dirk growls and the detective sighs.

“Who’re you again?”

“I’m the guy who’s gonna call bullshit on this because if you had anything on her, you’d be arresting her already,” Dirk says before pushing back his chair. “C’mon, baby girl.”

“Ah yes,” the detective says with a humorless smile. “Dirk Evans. We’ll be having a conversation real soon, you and I.”

A shiver rolls down my spine as I slowly stand. When Dirk grabs my hand, I follow behind him as he spits, “I’m sure you can find my number.”

The ride back to the house is quiet while I stew over the detective's insinuations. Although I’ve worried over the events of that night, I admit, there was always a part of me that didn’t believe it could be me.

Now, I’m well and truly fucked.

What did they find? I wish Dirk hadn’t gone all psycho on the man because maybe he would have told me. Although I admit, I’m glad he did.

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