Page 51 of Hate So Deep
Chapter 21
NOW
Lauren
We buried my brother today. The wind and sleet battered the ground while my parents stood before the casket, both dry eyed and stiff.
I don’t know whose decision it was but I’m grateful Celia and her brood chose to skip it. I can only imagine how that would have gone down with my mother.
Once the mourners are gone, I approach the casket and touch the cool surface with a shiver.
Intellectually I know that my brother no longer resides on this earth, but I still whisper, “I wish we could’ve been friends. I was hurting too, Buck. We were in this together.”
A gust of wind blows through, and I hunch into my coat as I glance to the right and spy my mom speaking to the minister.
When he touches her shoulder, she shrugs him off, and I turn back to the casket to say, “Why didn’t you let me in, brother? Maybe you wouldn’t be here now if you had.”
Of course, my questions go unanswered because my brother is gone and after a moment, I step back before making my way through the muddy grass to the road.
Except as the freezing rain lashes my face and I curl my palms into my pockets, I find the rented town car we came in pulling away from the curb.
Dad left fifteen minutes ago and my mom, well, she’s driving away probably without a backward glance.
Will the hits ever stop coming?
Helplessly, I turn to the only vehicle still here, prepared to ask for a ride even though my throat burns at the thought of admitting I was left behind.
Except that’s Dirk sitting behind the wheel.
Why is he here? I didn’t see him amongst the mourners, and I know he didn’t care about my brother.
So, what does this mean?
I guess it doesn’t matter because he’s the only one who didn’t leave while I said goodbye to my brother and with a silent sigh, I slip into the passenger seat of his truck before raising my hands to the vent blowing warm air into the cab.
I don’t dare look at Dirk because I’m afraid of what I might see in his eyes. Whether it’s sympathy or stone-cold nothingness, I can’t handle it and I look out the window instead.
As we pull away and follow the road back to the main intersection, I spy my dad sitting at the curb and turn away when I realize that Celia was here after all, even if she never left the car.
It’s quiet for a few minutes until we’re on the main road, and I ask, “Don’t you want to know where to go?”
“Nope,” he says, accelerating onto the freeway.
Since he’s heading in the right direction, I assume he’s not lying and ask, “How do you know where I live?”
His lips tilt into a sly grin and he says, “Followed you home a couple times.”
“Why?”
That easy smile fades and he glances at me before saying, “Had to make sure you stayed where you were told.”
“Of course,” I mutter. The jerk was always forcing me home when I wanted to go out and party.
Although I suspect now it was because he didn’t want me to cross paths with Colt, I convinced myself at the time that he was jealous of me hanging out with other guys.
Fuck, but I was a stupidly hopeless girl.
No more words are spoken all the way across town while I stare out the windshield at the fat flakes of snow fluttering against the glass and creating a haze across the scenery.
