Fueled Hate: A Dark College Bully Romance

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Fueled Hate: A Dark College Bully Romance Page 14

by A. J. Logan


  “Shut your mouth, Levi,” Dad commands. Levi’s satisfaction grows at seeing my horror increase.

  Why do I get the feeling this has nothing to do with my father and Kyle smuggling pills? “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “Kyle’s investment in your education. Tuition at that uni isn’t cheap, ya know?” Levi trails his eyes over to Dylan before returning to mine. “Guess you found someone else to milk dry now. Hope you’re loaded, pretty boy, because she requires a lot of upkeep.”

  Dylan leans forward, fixating on Levi. “I’d suggest you follow your father’s instructions and shut your fucking mouth. Now.”

  “Damn.” Levi laughs. “It didn’t take her long to train you too.”

  I leap out of my chair, anticipating Dylan’s move as he stands, heading towards Levi. I block his path. Levi does need to stop, but I don’t want Dylan and him fighting in the middle of the kitchen.

  Dad apparently doesn’t either. He’s moved around the other side of the table and is pulling Levi out of the chair by his collar. “Just get the hell out of here.”

  Levi stumbles, walking down the hallway as he says, “You’re the one who wanted me to join family supper time.”

  Dad keeps his back to me, facing the hallway as I stand there waiting, praying for some explanation.

  “What is he talking about?”

  My dad finally turns to face me, and the disgust on his face makes me feel even lower. “Sadie, just don’t worry about it.”

  “‘Don’t worry about it’? My tuition or the person paying for it, apparently?”

  He doesn’t respond. Instead, he walks over to the table and begins clearing the food from the supper that we never really started.

  “Dad. Please.”

  “Yes, Sadie. He’s paid your tuition. There was no way I could afford it when they turned us down for financial aid.”

  “I offered to pay it,” I whisper, recalling the conversation in great detail. “I asked what the out-of-pocket expense would be, even offered to take a year off or go to a community college if it was too much. You told me you and mom had planned for it, saved up and had enough to cover it without the loans. I even offered to pay you back. I said I could do it if it was too much on you. Why would you let Kyle pay for it?”

  His eyes fall to the floor, avoiding mine. That’s it.

  “That’s why you kept pushing me to get back together with him. Because you made a bargain with him for my education … for my future.” Kyle, of all people, is the last person I want to be indebted to. I made sure not to move in with him, wanting to pay my own way—had even told Kyle that much when he’d been footing the bill for my tuition all along. “I will repay him every cent, and I will not be getting back together with him, so keep that in mind for any other bargains you have with him.”

  Dad looks to me, confusion on his face. He’s trying to figure out if I know the truth. If I know what he was doing last night when he was helping Kyle smuggle pills across the border, supplying the local youth, including Levi. “Sadie, I—”

  “No, don’t say anything else because it will just be another lie. But please, try and do the right thing by Levi. He needs help, he needs a father, not someone making deals on his behalf.” Yeah. I’m pissed at my brother. But how much of what he’s said is the drugs talking and how much is resentment? He was very aware I was in the dark about it, because he’d enjoyed hurting me with the information greatly.

  A gentle hand presses against the small of my back, reminding me that Dylan is there, consoling me, and that ignites even more concern. I have to go. There’s nothing good here. Grabbing my phone and keys, I head out the door, walking to my car.

  Dylan won’t back off—as usual. “Get in my car. I’ll take you wherever you want to go.”

  Rotating, I turn and jab my finger against his solid chest as he halts. “You knew, didn’t you? You knew that Kyle was paying my tuition. Just another secret you had hidden in your bag of mindfucks, waiting to throw in my face when I didn’t jump at your command.”

  Reaching up, Dylan loops his fingers around my wrist, holding my hand to his chest. “I know your dad is having financial trouble, but I’d assumed he was getting the money from the drugs. I did not know Kyle was paying your tuition. I want that bastard as far away from you as possible.”

  “What makes you any better than him?” His twisted expression shows that I hit a raw nerve, and I fully expect him to get infuriated. Instead, he slowly raises his hand, trailing his fingers along my collarbone before grasping the nape of my neck, the other hand keeps ahold of my wrist, my hand still against his chest.

  “Nothing. And you sure as hell deserve better than me … but I can’t seem to stay away from you even when I know I should.” Dylan leans forward, gently feathering his lips on mine with such affection it terrifies me because it makes me want him to stay … even when I know he shouldn’t.

  I can’t do this right now, not with the utter chaos swarming my mind. “I need to go,” I say but don’t make a move to escape his touch.

  “Where?”

  Tightly clamping my eyes shut, I regret the confession before the words even leave my mouth. “To the only place I’m happy; the only place that gives me a sliver of peace.”

  His fingers release my wrist and thread with mine as he gently clasps my hand at his side.

  “Take me there,” he whispers, his demand sounding more like a hopeful request than the harsh order I usually get from him when he’s hell-bent on getting his way.

  Before I can regain my sense of self-preservation and do the smart thing, I walk towards my car as Dylan follows, my hand still in his until we reach the Mustang. I shouldn’t let him have this piece of me, but there’s a part of me that yearns to let him in. Only I should keep my guard up, even if he’s already pried his way in. Because in the end, I’ll need some strength to pick up the shattered pieces I’m more than certain he’ll leave behind when he’s done with me.

  26

  Dylan

  Ten minutes outside of the small town of Staffordsville, Sadie turns onto a gravel road. The only light around comes from the Mustang’s headlights, shining ahead on a road that appears to never end, a barbed wire fence lining either side. It’s killing me not to ask her where we’re heading, but I remain silent. Where this road leads isn’t important, what matters to me is she willingly allowed me to travel it with her.

  After a five-minute bumpy ride down the gravel road, an old rustic barn comes into view, and Sadie parks on the side of it. I follow her lead, only reaching for the door when she steps out.

  I can’t screw this up. Patience. I need to allow her to invite me along the way, not run full steam ahead as I always have the urge to do with her.

  Grabbing the padlock on the door, she spins the numbers into a combination and it unlatches. She removes it then pushes the door open just enough for us to walk through. The flashlight from her phone is the only light we have as we walk to the corner of the barn before climbing a steep staircase along the wall that leads to a second-floor loft that runs the length of the barn. Sadie walks to the front of the barn, reaches over, and shoves a wooden door that swings open. Turning her flashlight off, my eyes slowly adjust to the darkness as a moonlit field comes into view as far as the eye can see.

  Sitting on the dusty wooden floor, Sadie tucks her knees to her chest, eyes focused on the field as I sit next to her. My arm rests flush against hers, and I feel her slowly relaxing with every soft breath she exhales.

  “My mom would bring Levi and me here when she’d come out to help our grandparents after my grandma got sick. Mom would keep up the books because my grandpa didn’t trust anyone else to do it. I always wanted to help Grandpa too, but I usually ended up getting in the way, so he’d yell and tell me to leave the fieldwork to the men, which included Levi even though he was younger than me. It’d make me so mad because I thought, How hard could it be to grow a Christmas tree?

  “That’s why I always helped my d
ad at the shop—he never told me I couldn’t do something because I was a girl. Grandpa didn’t feel the same, and he hated my dad for some reason. I can’t remember ever seeing them in the same room together when they weren’t at each other’s throats. But one day, I tried my best to show Grandpa that I could help out. I chopped down an entire row of trees, thinking I really was proving my worth. They weren’t ready, too small. That’s the reason I’d picked that row. The trees were only about three feet tall, so I figured I’d actually have a chance to chop them down, and I did.

  “Grandpa was furious, though; ranting and raving as my mom grabbed me and drove us away on the Gator. She brought me here. When I told her I’d just wanted to help, she told me she had another job that was really important. She asked me to watch over the trees and see where the birds landed in case they had a nest in the tree. It was years later when I realized she’d assigned the task so I’d feel like I was doing something important.

  “I’d sit here, watching for hours at times, but I didn’t mind. My mom knew where to find me, and I had no doubt she’d come get me when it was time to go home. She’d never forget I was here and leave me behind.

  “So, that’s what I do. I sit here, watching where the birds land because my mom knows I’m here … and I can pretend that she’s gonna come get me soon when it’s time to go back home.” Her voice breaks with the pain of wanting her mother, and that pain is elevated in the one place where she can pretend her mom isn’t gone.

  The only thing I want to say is I understand—the ache, the void—the pain left behind when a vital component in your world is ripped away. But I can’t bring myself to say his name. To admit to her that Noah is the reason I’m here. The reason I can’t promise her I won’t leave her in more pain when I find out who’s responsible for his death.

  Lifting my arm, I drape it over her shoulder, holding her against me as her chin drops to rest on her knee. She looks more vulnerable than I’ve ever seen her before. And I want to ease her pain. I know that isn’t possible, but I have to try. I can’t do nothing. “She knows you’re here, Sadie.”

  “I hope so.” Her voice is soft as she keeps her chin on her knee, her eyes looking out to the darkness.

  “Have you seen any cardinals?”

  Her head swiftly lifts, her eyes studying me, causing me to worry I’m about to say the wrong thing as she asks, “Why would you ask that?”

  Recalling the conversation my mom had with Emma at Noah’s burial service, I take a cue to pass on a message. True or not, Emma had needed comfort that her big brother was still with her and Sadie seems like she needs that same reassurance about her mom. “Because my mom said she’s always heard that cardinals appear when angels are nearby. And I’m sure your angel is around here.”

  She blinks, staring at me like I’m the crazy person although I think she looks like the one about to go over the edge of sanity. “I didn’t tell anyone about it.”

  “About what?”

  “Two weeks after my mom died, there was a senior class assembly at school. It was all about the big events of the school year like prom and graduation … every event I was going to have to experience without her. I walked out of school and drove straight here, sat here crying, watching over the field until something red caught my attention in the corner of my eye. A cardinal was perched right there.” Sadie points to the corner of the opening, her eyes glued to the spot. “So, I sat here watching as it stayed perched there for what felt like an eternity, but it was probably mere minutes. Red was my mom’s favorite color.”

  “She knows you’re here.” Hugging Sadie tighter against me, I lean over, pressing my lips to her forehead as my eyes snap shut.

  “I hope so,” she whispers on a soft sob.

  Shifting backwards, I swing my left leg on the other side of her so she’s between my legs, her back pressed against my chest as I wrap my arms around her small frame. Her head falls back against my chest, and I tuck my face against her neck, breathing her in. How am I ever gonna let this exquisite beauty go?

  27

  Sadie

  We’ve been seated in the same position for about twenty minutes, my back against his chest, his arms enveloping me, giving me a sense of security, comfort. It might very well be a false sense, but it feels good right now as we sit surrounded by darkness, only the sound of crickets breaking the silence until I finally get up the nerve to speak. “We should probably go pick up your car so we can get back to Sunland.”

  Surprisingly agreeable, he stands, helps me up, then stretches before we head back down the staircase towards my car. I can’t help but think how strange it is that nothing feels unnatural about this. It had felt comfortable, almost cleansing, to show him the one place I feel close to my mom. The drive back to my dad’s is the same—comfortable. A tranquil quiet rather than tension filled but leave it to Dylan to ruin the little progress we’ve made.

  “Let’s go drop your car off at your dad’s, then we’ll hit the road,” Dylan says. There it is. The authoritative, commanding tone of the jerk I’m used to.

  The intoxicating fog is slowly lifting from my mind. He can’t be serious. “What?”

  “You’re riding back with me.”

  “No. I need my car. You know … for driving to work and school.”

  “I’ll drive you. I don’t mind.”

  Don’t mind? He should since it’s an idiotic idea. “But I do.”

  “Why can’t you just trust me?” he asks, frustration in his tone. So, I’m not the only one who thought things were shifting between us. Only how can I fully trust him?

  “You haven’t shown me why I should trust you.”

  He reaches into his pocket, clicking the screen of his phone as we pull back into the driveway of my house. “Nothing’s changed about our agreement.”

  “‘Agreement’? That’s a funny way of putting it.” Yep. Fog is totally gone. Why had I thought he’d at least back off of the controlling shit? “Just tell me something, give me a solid reason to trust you.”

  Dylan keeps his face turned away from me, but his voice is stern. “It’s your call, your risk, if you want to chance it.”

  I don’t want to chance anything, especially where Dylan is involved. And I hear his message clearly. He’s asking if I’m willing to test him. And I’m not. That is one match I’m not ready to face because it’s evident I’m nowhere near capable of trusting my own judgment. But why had I believed we’d unlocked some ridiculous peace between us after tonight?

  Parking in the driveway, I bail from my car as Dylan gets out too, looking at me over the hood. “You’re not worth the risk.” Trudging over to his car, I drop into the passenger seat as he commands the driver’s seat, in full control of our course, as usual. Don’t mind me, I’ll just leave my car and my freedom here. Now he’ll be even more entwined in my life, just like I don’t need.

  “I’m supposed to go back to work Saturday. I can’t call out or be late after already missing this week. I need my job … not that you can relate to that.”

  “You really shouldn’t assume what I can relate to.” His annoyance is back in its full-fledged glory. Good. At least I’m not the only miserable one in this stupid STI that probably has more money in aftermarket parts alone than the entirety of my car’s worth.

  “That’s a hard feat when all I can do is assume. Maybe if you were a little more forthcoming with details that effect my life I wouldn’t be left in the dark. Or maybe I should go ahead and accept that everyone else can just orchestrate my life as they see fit, including you. You all pull the strings, I’m just a puppet.”

  “You allow it,” he says frankly, no emotion in his voice.

  I can’t decide if it’s the lack of emotion in his blunt words or the actual statement that pisses me off. “Fuck you.”

  The entire ride back to Sunland is spent in silence, not a single word is uttered, and the tension only multiplies as he pulls into my apartment complex. The car isn’t fully stopped before I reach for the h
andle, pushing the door open at the same time he comes to an abrupt stop. I waste no time scrambling out of the car. Even as I rush away from him, I hear him call my name. Finally doing what I should’ve done long ago, I ignore him. Shutting his voice out of my mind and hurrying into my apartment, I slam the door closed. I know it won’t keep him at bay for long, but maybe it’ll provide me with some time until I can figure out how to deal with him. I need to know what’s going on. Maybe getting answers is the best way to help both of us. I’ll figure out how Dad got involved in smuggling pills, get Dylan his answers, and then he’ll leave me be. There is a sliver inside me that worries Dad will be deeply involved—to the point of no return—but I have hope. The man who told me I could be anything I wanted can’t be the same one who’s resorted to making a life from profiting off of others’ addictions and struggles, including his own son’s.

  Immediately heading to the shower, I stay under the hot spray an extended amount of time. I’d messaged Willow on the ride back, so she knows I was heading home. She’d said she’d be home from Parker’s as soon as he heads to his night shift at the shipping warehouse. I’d reassured her I was fine, telling her I was going straight to bed. I really hoped to avoid her because she’ll see right through my lies about everything being all right, especially right now when I’m thoroughly drained.

  It’s feels like a grueling, impossible feat, my energy is nearly drained by the time I’m out of the shower and pulling on a clean T-shirt and a pair of cotton pajama shorts. Climbing into bed, I feel like every limb has a weight tied to it, pulling me down as I crash against the soft, comfy bed. Even exhausted, I lie there going over every excruciating detail of the last few days before I finally drift off to sleep.

  Hours later, I’m woken by a rapping on the front door. Hoping it’s just Willow mistakenly locked out, I glance at my phone and spot a message saying she’s decided to just stay at Parker’s. I promptly make my way to the door, standing on my tippy toes to peep through the lookout hole.

 

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