Page 85 of Fueled Hate

Giving him a half-smile, I place my hand in his as he leads me to the dance floor, dancing his way to the center as he turns and starts moving to the music. I follow along, finally feeling some joy as Emma joins in, dancing around us. Bryce grabs my hand, twirls me around, and dances to the music as I laugh. Everyone is having a great time until Bryce is abruptly hauled backwards.

Dylan raises his fist, striking Bryce in the jaw. As Bryce regains his footing, he loops his arms around Dylan’s torso, taking him to the ground. They’re both taking swings at each other until Bill and another man haul the two crazies off the dance floor.

Judy stands with her hand covering her mouth, devastated at what she’s witnessed. The wedding guests watch as Dylan shoves out of his dad’s grip and stomps across the lawn. Walking into the house, Bill follows his son. Emma runs over to her grandpa, and he engulfs her in a hug, her face buried against his chest as she sobs.

He’d gone too far.

Hurrying into the house, it doesn’t take long to locate the trio. I enter the kitchen after following the sound of Bill hollering at Dylan while Dylan’s yelling at Bryce, who in turn lays into his friend with every vulgar word I’ve ever heard and some colorful ones I haven’t.

Dylan looks to me, rage plain on his face. Bill looks over his shoulder at Judy and me. “Everything is all right. Dylan just needs to get some air and take a breather.”

“Isn’t that the fucking truth,” Dylan says, jerking the tie from his neck and tossing it to the floor.

“What has gotten into you, Dylan?” Judy asks, clutching her hand to her chest as tears stream down her face. “Why would you do that to Bryce of all people?”

Dylan keeps his angry eyes on me as he says, “Because that’s what I do. I hurt the people I care about.”

Judy moves in front of Dylan, blocking my view of the hatred directed my way. “What are you talking about? This isn’t you. You don’t treat people like this.”

“No, I just send them to their deaths.” He steps to the side looking around the room at everyone gawking at him like he’s lost his mind before he looks back to his mom.

“Sunland. That’s where I’ve been.” Dylan clenches his teeth, his fist balled up at his sides. “He was there because of me. Noah went there because I told him about the race. He was only there because of me.” Dylan’s voice trails off in a low hiss.

Judy gasps, shaking her head. Her hand raises, slapping Dylan across the face.

Both of her hands clasp over her mouth, sobs escaping as she hurries out the room.

“We’ll talk about this in the morning.” Bill looks to Bryce then back to Dylan as he grips his shoulder and leans towards him. “Noah didn’t do anything he didn’t want to, just as you don’t. If he was there, he wanted to be. Give your mom some time.” Bill leaves the room but Bryce stays.

The redness on Dylan’s cheek softens my heart, but his enraged face tells me he’s not done.

“Go back to the party. Dance, have a good time, fuck the fun one.” He nods to Bryce, who lets out a cackle. Probably not the best move when Dylan is already pissed, but it is absurd.

“You’re really jealous because I was dancing? With Bryce?”

“Stop being an asshat, asshat,” Bryce says, slinging his arm in the air with a frustrated gesture.

“No. I’m fucking done with all of this bullshit.” His gaze has never left mine. He’s zeroed in on me with a rage I’ve never seen before. “You need to leave. Get the fuck out of my house.”

“What?” I ask, shaking my head. The liquor might be talking, but the asshole who drank it is responsible.

“Leave. You don’t belong here. Get the fuck out.”

My anger flows out in tears. Unable to recognize the bastard in front of me. “You asked me to come here. You said you didn’t want to come without me. And all you’ve done is treat me like shit. You won’t talk to me. You haven’t touched me. You’ve barely looked at me, and when you do you look like you hate me.”

“You’re here because he’s not.” Dylan surges forward as he yells, “Now get the fuck out of here.”

Immediately, I jump back, terrified of what I see. Absolute, sheer hatred. And nothing else.

“I hate you too.”

Rushing out of the room, I hurry upstairs, grab my things, and walk downstairs to find Bryce waiting, his hands tucked into his pockets, his lip and jaw already bruising.

“Come on, Sadie. I’ll take you home.”

Home. That definition has been ever-changing recently. Everything I’ve known has shifted and just when I thought Dylan and I were in a good place, he does this. He’ll always rip my heart out and stomp on it. He’ll never be my home.

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