Hate Crush Read online A. Zavarelli

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 82255 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
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“Yes!”

He glances down the street, and then behind us like he’s searching for another way out. Clearly, he’s delusional. That’s the only logical explanation for his behavior. And when I look at him, I realize that I don’t recognize him at all anymore. He isn’t the same man who used to make me pancakes and read me bedtime stories. Now, he’s just a criminal who cares more about himself than his own daughter. As if that wasn’t clear enough, he makes it painfully so when he reaches beneath the seat and retrieves a pistol.

“Dad!” I scream as he frantically waves it at the cops and shouts out the window.

“Let us go, or I’ll shoot!” he tells them.

“You’re going to get us both killed!” I try the door handle again, but this time he waves the gun at me.

“Don’t even think about it, Stella. They’ll never shoot a pregnant woman. You’re the only bargaining chip I have left now.”

CHAPTER FORTY

SEBASTIAN

“YOU DON’T HAVE a leg to stand on here, Sebastian.” Savannah Gilbert glares at me as if I’m little more than a piece of rotten gum stuck beneath her shoe. “I’ll have your job for this.”

“Take it.” I shrug. “Do you think I’d even be here if I didn’t know the consequences of my actions?”

Her lips pinch into a tight line, betraying her obvious disappointment that I’m not cowering before her, but she should know me better by now.

“I do have one stipulation, though.” I take a seat in the chair Stella vacated.

Her eyes bulge as she snorts unattractively. “What could you possibly think I would do for you after what you’ve just admitted?”

“I want Stella to complete her studies through correspondence.”

“Not a chance.” She shakes her head without a second thought. “We can’t have a pregnant student on our records. If anyone gets wind of this—”

“She will receive a diploma from Loyola Academy.” I retrieve my phone and set it on her desk. “Or I will go to the board and tell everyone that your miserable, deadbeat excuse for a son has been distributing drugs and alcohol to the students right under your nose for years.”

Her eyes widen as she examines the audio recording taunting her from my iPhone. And when she presses play, just as I knew she would, the color drains from her face as she comes to an understanding that, in this scenario, I have her by the balls.

“How long do you think your job will last when they find out?” I ask.

“Fine.” She stabs at the button on my phone, effectively cutting off her son’s doped up admission. “You’ve made your point, Sebastian.”

“Stella gets a diploma from Loyola,” I reiterate.

“As long as she completes her courses with passing scores, she can graduate with her classmates. But she will not remain on campus. That is non-negotiable.”

“Mr. Carter!” Sybil flings open the door, breathless and eyes wide with panic.

A familiar dread creeps into my veins as I force the words from my throat. “What is it?”

“It’s Stella,” she pants. “Please, you have to come right now!”

Without hesitation, I follow her out of the building, and she ushers me toward the entrance. “What’s going on?” I demand. “Where’s Stella?”

“It’s her dad.” She points to the street as she tries to explain. “She met him outside to talk, but then he took off. Now the cops are after them, and there’s a huge barricade…”

My legs break into a run before she can finish, and Sybil tries to keep up the pace beside me. Between breaths, she yells something about a crash, and I feel like I can’t fucking breathe. Every word she utters is another crushing blow. Standoff. Weapons. Hostage. The worst-case scenario echoes through my mind to the tune of a broken record.

It’s happening again. I’m going to lose her.

Adrenaline drives me straight into the heart of the chaos. Leaping over a cop car, I scream for Stella as two officers come at me. Diving to the left, I narrowly avoid their grasp and bulldoze my way onto the scene. That’s when I find the silver Kia at the center of the commotion. The driver’s rear side is smashed in, and glass litters the asphalt beneath it. Stella is in that car. The car that at least a dozen agents are aiming their weapons at while they bark out their orders.

“Stella!” I bellow.

Vaguely, I hear them ordering me to stop, along with their threats to shoot, but the only thing I can think about is getting to her.

“Sebastian!” She peeks out the shattered window with wide, terrified eyes. That fear on her face punches me in the gut, but it’s the blood-soaked hair that sucks the life from me. I’m not thinking clearly when I yank the door open to get to her.

“Get back!” her father yells over the ruckus. “I’ll shoot you if I have to!”


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