Page 25 of Fueled Hate

Heat floods my cheeks as my anger and embarrassment soar. Lifting my hand, I swing, connecting with his cheek.

He doesn’t move, not even a flinch. His smirk grows. “Answers that question loud and clear.”

“You’re worse than he is.” The words leave my mouth before I can think about it but I feel every bit of it to be true. Kyle is an egotistical dickhead, but Dylan is a freakin’ lunatic. The best thing I can do is forget about both of them.

The smug look fades, quickly replaced by anger as he takes a deliberate step back. His eyes are still on me as he finally removes his hands and body from mine, walking back to his car without another word. Measuredly, he opens the door, drops inside, and speeds off.

What. The. Hell. Just. Happened? I stay pressed against the car, like he’d left me. My head spins, trying to wrap around the fact that Dylan isn’t any better than the others. At least he revealed his true self before it was too late. I’m not sure what I’d wanted to happen between us, but I was very wrong about him. And he’s dead wrong about one thing … I don’t want any of this. I’m not even supposed to be here. My plan had been to attend school in New York, far away from Texas and everything here. Kyle had even said he’d go with me to the East Coast.

Of course, that was before everything changed between us, before I changed. That’s when I believed in happy endings. When I wanted to go to school for photography instead of psychology. Before photography felt too trivial and I decided to focus on helping others deal with the trauma of losing loved ones. I really just wanted to figure out how to help those around me, my dad and my brother, and even myself, cope with the loss. But is that something that can really be taught in a classroom?

I still don’t know if I’ll ever be able to help any of us, but I knew I had to stay close. Being an hour away from home in case my dad or Levi needs me was the best choice. Kyle was more than happy to stay in Texas, and I thought I would be too. Now, I’m not sure if I made the right decision. Yes. Yes, I did. I want to be near my family. Even if we’re broken, we’re all we have left. I want things to go back to how they were before, when I believed there was good in the world. Before I realized that one evil person could destroy complete strangers in the blink of an eye. I hadn’t realized just how delicate it was.

One moment.

One second.

One decision.

That’s all it took for someone to pull the trigger, ripping my mom away from me and destroying my fragile reality. Maybe that’s my problem … I’m waiting for that next moment. The one that implodes my life as I know. Again. It can’t be any worse than last time, though. How do you get back on track when the most important piece of the puzzle is missing?

An old Ford truck pulls to a stop behind mine and a lady hops out, giving me a questioning look.

Oh, don’t mind me … just losing my mind, dealing with crazies, and questioning the very thread that holds the fabric of my universe together. Wonder if they teach any of that in a classroom. Hopefully so because I have no clue about any of it.

“Car trouble?” she says, looking to the flat.

“Something like that,” I say pushing off the Mustang. “I’m good though, but thanks for stopping.”

“Sure thing.” She waves before getting back in her truck and leaving.

How come it couldn’t have been that easy with Dylan? All he had to do was trust that I could take care of my own tire and leave me alone. It’s still lingering—the thought that he may have done something to sabotage the tire, but why? He knows I’m capable of changing it. Even when he’s not here, he’s still driving me mad.

I get started on changing out the tire—that I know how to fix. Everything else can and will have to wait.

As I lift the flat tire into the trunk, I examine the valve stem, searching for any signs of tampering, but it looks fine. Am I really losing my mind, or is there something else going on?

16

Dylan

Nothing, and I mean nothing, pisses me off more than being compared to that sorry excuse for a human being. I knew the move would be risky, but I’m fed up with all of it. Parker made it clear that Sadie dumped Kyle’s sorry ass last night, but I’m not convinced she won’t go back for more. That, I don’t want to watch.

And it’s my fault I’m still here to watch it. This could’ve been all over last night, but I screwed up, because of her.

Gripping the steering wheel, I press the accelerator, speeding down the road, the scenery passing in a blur. I should let off, slow down, but something makes me want to go faster. How many times have I sat behind the wheel, driving like a reckless maniac, but nothing’s gone wrong? How many times did Noah get behind the wheel, doing the same reckless antics … never losing control, never a misstep because he knew his limit, his car’s limit, and when to let off the gas. He was the careful one, not me, so why isn’t he here instead?

Ringing sounds through the speakers of the car, glancing to the screen on the dashboard, I see it’s my mom calling. Every muscle in my body says don’t answer it. Ignore it. But the last time I didn’t answer, Dad said she started panicking, worried something had happened to me.

It should’ve been me.

Reluctantly, I let off the gas, the car only slightly slowing as I head to the only place I can think to go right now. “Hello?”

“Hey, Dill Pickle!” my little sister’s voice sounds through the speakers, causing my foot to tap the brake, slowing the car.

“Hey, Emma Bug,” I respond with the nickname that her other big brother gave her when she was a baby. Once she was old enough to be embarrassed, she decided to give us our own. Noah Fart didn’t appreciate his nickname, but I didn’t mind mine.

“Guess what Mom told me?” Her giddy voice continues before she gives me a chance to guess. “She told me that Elsa is in Florida, close to you. She said we’re coming to visit you and Minnie soon.”