Page 70 of Hate So Deep
“Gage?”
Although he stiffens, he doesn’t turn back and I glance out over the neighborhood of swanky cars and million-dollar mansions before saying, “If I find out, you did one single thing to hurt that girl, you’re dead.”
Chapter 28
THEN
Lauren
It’s Halloween.
Eyeing my outfit, a black one piece that fits me like a second skin, I set the headband that completes it on my head and do a little twirl.
Eat your heart out, Dirk Evans, I think before my smile fades.
Odds are the asshole won’t care about my banging outfit which shouldn’t matter but it fucking does.
“Get a grip,” I mumble, as a loud bang from the adjoining wall brings me around.
Stepping into the hall, I stop at the threshold of Buck’s room and find him standing over the garbage can by his bed.
When he spits into the receptacle, I turn away from the sight of the bloody ball of saliva and snot. Gross.
“What's going on?” I ask.
“Nothing,” Buck growls, and I grimace. Why is he always acting like such an angry dick?
Still, he’s my brother and there was a time when he wasn’t this person which is why I ask, “Buck? Who beat your face in?”
When he whips his head around, and stalks toward me, I step back with a tremor of unease.
His lips curve into a nasty smile and he grabs the door, saying, “What happened? Colt fucking Theroux and he’s gonna regret being born when I’m done with him.”
With that, he closes the door in my face, and I stare at the wood blankly before walking back to my room, only to pause when Mom comes barreling down the hall.
Clutching her fucking pearls, she ignores me as she wrenches on the door for Buck’s room and says, “Son, let me in.”
With a silent groan, I slink into my room and close the door before banging my head against the wood.
Ever since Buck admitted the truth to me, he’s been even more wretched than usual.
Dad’s gone more than he’s home and Mom’s a fucking nightmare.
Does Dad go tothemwhen he’s not here? Is he relieved to get out of this house of fucking horror?
Maybe he loves his alternate family more. He has a daughter with her, the woman who stole him away. I have a half-fucking-sister that I’ve never met who’s younger, pretty, and weirdly similar in appearance to me.
What a mindfuck.
Did he replace us? Why?
All these questions rebound in my head on the daily and last night when I couldn’t take it anymore, I followed Dad after an awkward as fuck dinner.
My throat ached in anticipation of what I might find when I trailed him across town, where, to my surprise, he pulled up to a bookstore.
Weirded out by the strangely mundane task, I relaxed into the seat and rolled my eyes. Knowing my luck, I just drove for miles like a super-secret spy, only for my dad to be buying a fucking book before heading home.
Is this really my life?
