Page 36 of Fueled Hate

“So much for keeping a low profile.” I can’t be mad at him, but I’m also not in the mood for his antics tonight. I haven’t been in the mood for anyone’s shit since Sadie drove away, leaving me at the Dome looking like a pathetic chump.

“That was blown when you made a wager for a chick then whipped up on her boyfriend.”

“He’s not her boyfriend.” My attempt to keep my tone flat fails miserably when the words hiss out, the anger stewing inside me crystal clear.

“Neither are you.” There’s no bite in Bryce’s tone. Just amusement, which pisses me off even more. He’s enjoying this. I probably would be amused if I weren’t the one being twisted into knots first by her hazel eyes and then by her stubborn determination to make me see she doesn’t need me. But I need her. Fuck. It wasn’t supposed to go down like this.

Scanning Big Tobe’s, I come up empty in my search for her again. Shit, I really am in too deep where she’s involved. But I know I’ll keep spiraling further down when I spot Kyle and Andrew walking towards us.

“Looking for someone in particular?” Kyle says, the smugness in his tone making my fist clench. She was supposed to be a tool I used to get to him, not the other way around.

Bryce holds up his drink, motioning to the stage where the next singer has begun a rendition of “Party in the USA” for the primed audience. “Y’all planning to duet tonight or what?”

Kyle ignores Bryce, taking a step closer to me. “I told you … there’s no way you can compete with what we have. She’ll always come back to me, even her own father said so when he called me. He wanted to keep me updated on her well-being.” He leans forward, glowering as he whispers, “Me. It’ll always be me.”

Rage flicks through every corner of my mind, and my ears ring, furious at his words. I need to shut him up. Just as I lunge forward, Kyle shifts back and Bryce steps in front of me. “Low profile, remember? A trip to the police station wouldn’t help anything right now.”

It wouldn’t but that doesn’t stifle my need to put my fist through Kyle’s mocking face. The shitbag retreats, disappearing out the door as I stand there, fueled by hate. Hate for him. Hate for myself. Hate for this place and everything about it. The place my brother died.

“Dude, you’re gonna have to get control of your shit or this won’t end well for you.”

“It never was gonna end well for me. My brother is still dead. I’m not here for a happy ending. I’m here to make him pay. I need to make them all pay.”

“‘All’?” Bryce asks, glancing to the door Kyle just exited. “You still don’t know what happened for sure.”

“I know exactly what happened. Noah called me the night before he died. He found out what was really going on around here and it got him killed. I’m done playing around. They’re all guilty. It’s time for everyone to pay.” Part of me had hoped something would show me Sadie was innocent, but there’s no way she’s not involved or at least aware. Tossing some cash on the bar, I walk out and head to my car. Yanking the STI’s door open, I drop in as Bryce’s hand catches the door before I’m able to pull it shut.

“Dylan, talk to me. Don’t run off and do something stupid that will get you killed too.”

“It’s not me you should be worried about.” Jerking the door closed, I hit the push-button starter as the engine revs to life, then speed away. My foot presses the gas pedal to the floor, speeding down a road I know I shouldn’t take, but one that will end with justice for Noah. It’s time to unravel each person responsible for what happened to my brother from the inside out, regardless of how small of a part they played. And I know exactly where to start—the common source. Sadie.

21

Sadie

Stirring in bed, I reach over to the nightstand to grab my phone, but it’s not there. Feeling around on the floor, I come up empty-handed. It must be in the bathroom, or maybe the kitchen. I was so tired after my shower I fell right to sleep. Rubbing my eyes, I sit up in the bed, glancing to my bedroom window. Thankfully, it’s still dark outside because I’m not ready to face the day yet.

Throwing the quilt off my legs, I slide off the bed and head to the kitchen. I don’t spot my phone on the counter, so I open a cabinet and pull out a glass before quickly filling it with water from the faucet. Taking a big gulp of water, I notice 2:44 flashing on the oven. Setting the cup on the counter, I make my way down the hallway. Just as I’m reaching for the bathroom door, a harsh grip seizes my forearm and shoves me forward against the wall. A strong hand covers my mouth, and fighting against the relentless hold, I attempt to scream, but a solid body presses against me, holding me prisoner as I struggle to catch my breath.

“Don’t scream,” a familiar low voice says in my ear.

Dylan. Every muscle in my body goes rigid. The minuscule relief I feel at it not being a strange lunatic is short-lived when my mind is flooded with questions about the familiar whacko. What is he doing here? Why is he in my house? Where’s my dad? Has he hurt him? The nuisance who’s bugged me is fully freaking me out now. Battling against his solid hold, my words are smothered out by his hand covering my mouth.

“Stop fighting me, Sadie.”

How the fuck am I supposed to do that when the psycho is holding me hostage in my own house? A few more of my muffled curses are drowned out by his hand as I finally go still, other than my chest quickly rising and falling.

“Good girl.” His smooth, calm voice pisses me off as I jerk my face away from his hand as he removes it.

“Let me go.” I resume my futile effort to get my hands free from his grip. One of his hands pins my wrists together behind my lower back, and his chest pushes against my shoulders, forcing my cheek against the wall. His hand finally releases my wrists as he shifts back, grabbing my hips to spin me around. My back is pinned against the wall as my hands push at his chest, unsuccessful in my attempt to get away from him. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“I’m gonna show you.” His menacing tone sends an alarming chill down my spine. I’m not so sure I want to know what’s going on in his twisted mind. I don’t want to think he’d hurt me but why else would he be here.

“Get your hands off me. Now.” My voice is as stern as it can be when I’m staring into the eyes of a nutcase who’s pinning me against the wall.

His hand lifts, moving towards my face. I flinch, quickly shifting away from his touch, and his hand halts for a second before slowly moving to my cheek, his thumb rubbing over my skin. “I don’t want to hurt you, Sadie.”

The night we met on the side of the road flashes through my mind—he’d told me the same thing. “I didn’t trust you the first time you said that, and I sure as fuck don’t believe it now. What are you doing here? How do you even know where I live?”