Page 39 of Fueled Hate

Reluctantly, I open my eyes, peering back through the window into the place I’ve grown up. Suddenly, my once cherished space has a dark, heavy feeling engulfing it. That’s when I see the familiar build, the perfect slicked-back blond hair. Not a lock out of place, Kyle bends down, picks up a few of the blocks, and tosses them onto a metal workbench just next to the car as Andrew joins him. Pulling out a pocketknife, Kyle slices into the stiff plastic as tiny clear packets tumble out, all filled with different sized and shaped pills. Dylan was telling the truth. “Where did they get them from?”

“Across the border. I haven’t been able to find their main contact, but I know almost everyone who’s involved here. At least I think I do.” His insinuating tone catches my attention before his words.

He can’t be implying what I think. Slowly rotating to look at him, his accusatory eye confirms what I thought. “You can’t seriously think I’m in on this. I didn’t even know about it—hence my shock at what I’m seeing on the roof of my dad’s shop in middle of the night.”

“Why should I trust you when you won’t trust me?”

Slowly rising, I glare at him, feeling angry with him, my dad, Kyle, Andrew, Levi—all of them. But this insane moron is the only one I can take it out on at the moment. “I don’t give a flying fuck if you trust me. And you are dead wrong about one thing: you don’t know anything about me, because if you really did, you wouldn’t have to question if I had anything to do with that.” I point to the window where my dad is participating in the unthinkable along with my idiot ex. All of them can go to hell—Dylan, Kyle, Andrew, Dad—because there’s no explanation that would make any of it okay. Rotating, I start toward the edge of the building as Dylan’s fingers encircle my wrist, pulling me to him forcefully enough to make me crash against his solid chest.

“Sadie, you can’t walk away from this … or me.”

“You haven’t given me a reason to trust you. Not one.” I remain still, pressed against him as he looks to me. He opens his mouth to say something but stops, his face covered in uncertainty. That’s a look I haven’t witnessed from him … ever. The usually maddeningly arrogant guy is nowhere in sight, but I’m sure he’ll return soon enough, he always does. That prick shows up everywhere I go—work, school, on the side of the damn road, and now not only my hometown, but inside my house in the middle of the night. “And I’m not walking away. I’m going to find out what the hell is going on in there. That’s not my dad. That’s not who he is.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.” No. As much as I want to believe I’m absolutely certain, I’m not. Dad has been so distant and different since Mom died. Since the life I knew was flipped upside down.

“Then why are you crying?” Dylan slowly raises his hand, gently brushing his thumb across my cheek.

The sweet gesture, conflicting with how we’d come to be standing in this very spot, throws me off kilter. “Don’t touch me.” I shift to walk away, but he holds me against him.

The uncertainty is gone. It’s replaced with frustration as he commands, “You’re not going in there.”

“Yes, I am.”

“No. You’re not. No matter how much of a pain in the ass you are, I’m not willing to wager your life on sending you in there until I know who else is involved.”

“They wouldn’t hurt me.” It comes out as a measly squeak but that’s just because everything is happening so fast, right? “Why did you bring me here? Why are you doing this to me?”

“Because you’re going to help me unravel the web until I find every single person responsible.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Don’t worry about that.”

My dad. No matter what is going on, I don’t like the thought of my dad being hurt. “Don’t hurt my dad. I can talk to him.”

“No. In fact, if you talk to him or anyone else about this, Frank and Levi will pay the price. Severely.”

Would he? His stern tone makes me question if he actually would follow through on the threat. “So, you don’t want ‘them’ to hurt me, but you will.”

“I said I won’t hurt you.”

“Well, if you hurt them, you hurt me.”

“We both know it won’t come to that.” His voice lowers, his hand slips under my tank as he smooths his palm over my lower back. He continues, “Because as much as you keep fighting to resist me, you want this as much as I do.”

I’m very aware of his tender touch caressing my bare skin, the feel of his body pressed against mine, his enticing eyes beckoning to me. Under any other circumstance, I’d cave. Give in to him because there is part of me that wants him, which makes me wonder what the hell is wrong with me. But these aren’t normal circumstances. Nothing about this shit, or anything where Dylan’s involved, has been normal since the moment he materialized in my life.

“You’re right. I don’t trust you.” Shoving away from him, I sit on the edge of the building. Leaning forward, I slide off and my feet hit the metal lid of the dumpster. Hopping to the rough pavement, Dylan follows, landing beside me.

Every muscle in my body is tense. I want nothing more than to walk straight to my dad, beg him to tell me that everything I’d seen wasn’t as it appeared, then throat punch Dylan for twisting my world around his demented self. Instead, I head across the street. Back to the last vehicle I want to be in but the one that will get me away from here before I do something I can’t take back. I don’t know Dylan well enough to risk him following through on his threats.

He unlocks the car and I quickly pull the door open, dropping into the passenger seat right as he slips into the driver’s seat. There’s a heavy silence as he starts the motor and drives off. It lingers until we pull into my driveway and I move to open the door. He reaches promptly across me, pulling it closed.

“What?” I ask, avoiding his stupid face.

“You’re going to help me, so you should stop fighting it.”