Page 87 of Fueled Hate

48

Sadie

Sheets. That’s what’s driving me mad right now as I shove them into the washer, pouring four times the amount of washing detergent than necessary. It’s maddening. Even without him here, I can smell him, feel him everywhere. Cleaning every single piece of bedding is my latest quest to forget about him. Staring down at the sheets, I pour another heaping capful of detergent in for good measure before slamming the lid shut and pushing the buttons as the machine begins filling with water. Is his mocking presence ever going to leave me alone?

I begin cleaning the already clean kitchen when I hear a loud knock on the door. Ceasing, I look over to the door as Willow emerges from her bedroom, glances at me, then walks to the door. She peeks through to see who it is, and when she turns to look at me, I already know the answer.

“No,” I whisper as the pounding continues on the door.

“I’ll get rid of him,” Willow says before pulling the door open as I make a beeline for my bedroom, but it’s not fast enough.

“Sadie, please.” His voice is full of agony and anguish as I halt, my back to him as he continues, “Please. I just need to talk to you. Please give me a chance to explain.”

A chance. Another one—until something else crashes down on my heart.

“No. She doesn’t want to see you. You don’t get another chance. The least you can do is stay the fuck away from her,” Willow defends, remaining in the doorway, keeping him outside the apartment.

I can’t do this again.

Slowly rotating, I walk to the door and stand in front of him as Willow steps to the side. “No. I won’t allow you to hurt me again.”

“Sadie, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean any of it. I was angry with myself. You were there and he wasn’t, and I didn’t know how to deal with it. I only met you because I lost him, but I can’t imagine my life without you. I felt like I was wishing him dead, and I couldn’t handle it.”

“No. I won’t do it again. I can’t.”

Dylan drops to his knees, his hands reaching out to grip my hips as he looks up at me. “Sadie, I swear I’ll never hurt you again. I’ll do anything to prove it to you. Just tell me what to do to make it right. You’re engrained in every piece of my soul; I need you and I know you need me too. We’ll get through this. We have to.”

“You made the choice when you told me to leave. Deal with the consequences.” My fingers grip his, removing him from my skin as I shove him away. Stepping back, I slam the door shut and lock the dead bolt.

“Sadie …” Willow says as I walk to my room.

“I’m fine.” Fuck. I hate that word too. “I’m not fine but I will be.”

Willow wraps her arms around my shoulders as she pulls me into a warm embrace. “I don’t know what happened, but I’m here if you need me.”

“Thank you.” I step out of her embrace and look to my best friend that I’ve been lying to because of Dylan. That’s the reason I didn’t give her the details of the hellacious weekend because it’s impossible without telling her the entire story. “Noah. Dylan’s his brother.”

Her sharp intake of breath explains exactly how I felt at the revelation. “Noah? But …”

Nodding. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I wanted to. I wanted to tell Parker too, but I was worried about dredging up everything for him since he can’t talk about the accident without downward spiraling.”

“Yeah.” She says her eyes darting around the room. “He still won’t talk to me about it. Every time I’ve mentioned it, he shuts down. Dylan can’t be here. It will send Parker off the deep end. Just ignore Dylan and maybe he’ll go away.”

“Have you met him?” I let out a sigh. “Dylan doesn’t back down from anything once he has his mind set.”

“You’re right,” she utters, her hand clasping over her neck. “Just stay away from him, Sadie.”

“That’s my plan.” Even if it isn’t his. I have to. There’s nothing good that will come out of something that started with such tragedy and continues to plummet into misery.

49

Dylan

It’s too late. I’m too late. I screwed up and hurt her, maybe beyond repair this time.

“I wouldn’t forgive your stupid ass either,” Bryce says, leaning against the side of the building.

Rising from my knees, I stare at the door that she’d just slammed in my face. “You’re not helping.”