Page 53 of Fueled Hate

A pained look crosses her face as she quickly looks away. Her head turns to the side as she whispers, “Intense passion can fade out too, especially when there’s nothing but lies and secrets underneath.”

“I told you about Noah. That’s my truth.”

She looks back to me, her questioning gaze holding me hostage. “Why are you asking about Parker?”

“It’s him or Kyle. Those are the only two who had the means to stage the accident and had reason to want my brother gone.”

“No,”—she shakes her head emphatically—“Parker wouldn’t do something like that. He’d have no reason to.”

Dropping my forehead against hers, I close my eyes as I breathe her in. Damn it. I wish things were different. That we’d met under different circumstances and that shit wouldn’t keep heading downhill from here. Pushing against the mattress, I move off of her. Sitting on the edge of the bed, my elbows rest on my knees as my head drops to my hands.

“Money. It brings out the worst in some people.” The bed shifts as Sadie sits on the edge next to me. Looking to the side, I say, “Willow is right about one thing, guys care only about their dicks and their cars. Noah was here for a big payday, which included not only the money but pinks too. He’d already won a Porsche 911. The final race was for a ZR1.”

“That doesn’t mean they killed him.” Her voice cracks as she stares at me with panic.

Shoving off the bed, I pace a few steps back and forth before stopping in front of her. Her eyes look up to me. I’d imagined it in a completely different way though, where her eyes were looking to me with need not disbelief. “Then why was there no money found in Noah’s car? Or any of his things? How did Parker get his car back when Noah had won it already?”

“He wouldn’t do that.”

“Just like your precious father wouldn’t smuggle pills, right?”

“Fuck you.” She swiftly stands from the bed, moving to walk past me, but I block her path.

“Hate me all you want, but you asked for the truth.”

Her arms tuck against her chest, as she looks to the floor, avoiding my gaze. “Most of all, I’m jealous because Parker has never made Willow cry … not once.”

The pain in her face guts me, so I don’t make a move to stop her as she walks past me into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her. It’s not the first time I’ve brought her to tears, and sadly, it won’t be the last.

29

Sadie

I’ve been sitting on the edge of the tub, going over every accusation Dylan’s made for the last ten minutes. There’s no way Kyle—and certainly not Parker—would be capable of those things. But Dylan’s right, I would have never believed my dad was capable of drug running had I not seen it with my own eyes. Maybe I have everyone wrong.

Opening the bathroom door, my hope that Dylan left is shot to shit when I see him sprawled out across my bed. His arm is draped across his face, shielding his eyes from the light. My attention is immediately drawn to the V leading to the waistband of his jeans, where black boxer briefs are slightly showing. It summons a smidgen of the desire that I’d felt last night, but even more, it summons the feeling of wanting to throat punch him for twisting me in every direction possible.

“Ready to go?” he says without removing the arm that covers his face.

“No. I’m staying here. I don’t have classes or work since I don’t have a fucking car to get me there.”

“I’ve already told you that I’ll drive you wherever your salty heart desires, but that’s not what I was talking about. Bryce is waiting on us.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you.”

“Aren’t we supposed to be doing this together?”

“Yes, but that was before you accused my best friend’s sweet boyfriend of murder.”

“Then let’s prove me wrong.” He removes his arm, slides off the bed, and walks over, standing close enough to look down at me. There’s no playfulness or sexy smile, just frustration. “We’ll clear Parker and Kyle, so you’ll be free to idolize them both again.”

That’s it. “Are you seriously jealous?”

The tightness in his face answers my question as a chuckle leaves my lips. Cocky and confident Dylan is envious? It’s too funny to not laugh at. He doesn’t share my humor at his expense. I shake my head. “You are. You’re jealous. But is it of Kyle or Parker, or both?” I shouldn’t keep poking at the maniac, but he hammers on my buttons every chance he gets.

Dylan swiftly moves forward, his hands gripping my ass as he lifts me. My legs hook around his hips, reminding me of exactly how he’d held me last night, my back pressed against the wall again. There’s an angry, wild look in his eye as he leans closer, brushing his lips against mine as he speaks assertively. “Why would I be jealous of someone who didn’t have the sense to bury his dick in you at every opportunity? Of a jackass who you can’t stand the thought, sight, or touch of? I saw the way you’d cringe when he put his hands on you. How you’d wince away from his vile touch—hadn’t you already started craving mine? Why would I envy him when I can make you wet by holding you here, doing nothing more than breathing on you? You want me to fuck your brains out even when you hate my very presence.”

“You’re right. I do hate you,” I whisper against his mouth. Kyle. Kyle was definitely the one that got to him, and it’s clear he is indeed jealous … and also correct. I hate why he’s here, what brought him here. I hate it for everyone’s sake—including his and Noah’s.