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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“Just wait there. I’ll be back in ten minutes at most.”

Sybil nods and keeps a lookout for me as I scan the street. My father didn’t say where he’d be or what to look for. But as I’m walking, a low whistle grabs my attention from one of the cars. Sure enough, when I peek inside, it’s my father. He looks different than what I’m used to. His facial hair is grown out, and he’s wearing a ball cap, but he’s definitely the same man who raised me.

I toss a secret thumbs-up in Sybil’s direction and reach for the door.

“Get in,” my father says. “We need to talk.”

I sink into the passenger seat of a Kia, wondering if it’s a rental car. I’m not sure I even want to ask how he got it, considering the circumstances.

“Dad, what is going on?” I demand.

He doesn’t reply right away. Instead, he turns the key in the ignition and shifts the car into drive.

“Wait, what are you doing?” I screech as he whips out of the parking space. “I can’t go with you.”

“I know I owe you an explanation.” His fingers tighten around the steering wheel as he accelerates down the street. “I screwed up. I should have just told you, but I couldn’t.”

“Okay, well right now, that doesn’t matter,” I tell him. “You’re neck deep in some serious shit, Dad. So why did you even bother coming back now?”

“They’re onto me.” He glances in the rearview mirror. “Mexico isn’t going to work out. I thought maybe I could go to Canada, and this time, you could come with me.”

“Are you kidding me?” I stare at the man who has obviously lost his goddamned mind. “You just left me. You abandoned me and ran off without so much as a goodbye, and now you think I’m going to leave the country with you?”

“I’m sorry.” He checks the mirrors again and hammers down on the accelerator. “It was the only thing I could do.”

“This is crazy.” I swallow my fear and try to reason with him. “You need to pull over and let me out. And then you need to go turn yourself in.”

Before he can even respond, a siren blares behind us, and sure enough, when I turn, there’s an undercover car following us.

“Fuck!” My father glances over at me. “Put your seat belt on.”

With trembling fingers, I reach for my seat belt and jam it into the buckle as he picks up speed again. This time, he starts dodging cars and swerving into oncoming traffic, and my fear rises with the needle on the speedometer. “Dad, please! You need to stop!”

He doesn’t seem to be listening to me anymore. His focus shifts from the traffic to the mirrors and back. The midday congestion is hampering his getaway efforts, and at most, I think we’ve only made it two miles from the school.

Squinting at the flashing lights in the mirror, I consider my options. Clearly, my father has gone insane. But without pulling some sort of stunt maneuver and safely ejecting myself from the car, my only hope is to appeal to him.

“Please pull over,” I beg, shrieking as he narrowly avoids a garbage truck. “You’re going to hurt someone.”

“Stella, I can’t go to prison!” he shouts over the racket. The sirens continue to multiply around us, and now it sounds like they are coming from every direction. Surely, he must realize that too.

“You have no choice!” I yell. “Please don’t take me down with you.”

“I love you, honey.” His voice fractures. “I just want you to come with me. We can make a whole new life. I promise, I’ll make it all up to you.”

“If you love me, then let me go,” I sob. “Please, Dad. I’m pregnant.”

His head whips in my direction, and in a split second, something slams into us from the side. My head bounces off the passenger window and glass explodes into the car, raining down like shrapnel. Everything happens so fast there isn’t even time to process it. I’m dazed and disoriented, coughing from the smoke as my ears ring so loud everything sounds like it’s underwater. The car isn’t moving anymore, I realize, as my father’s voice breaks through my haze.

“Stella, honey. Are you okay?”

“I don’t know.” I dab at my temple, and when I pull my fingers back to examine them, they’re coated in blood.

“Put your hands up and step out of the vehicle now,” a command blares from a megaphone behind us, and when I look out the broken window, the car is completely surrounded by federal agents. I reach for the door handle, but my father grabs my arm.

“No. Wait.”

“We can’t wait.” Terror chokes me as I stare down at least a dozen agents with their weapons drawn. “Please just let me go.”

“Are you really pregnant?” he asks.


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