HATE CRUSH, page 18
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
STELLA
FOR FIVE BLISSFUL DAYS, Sebastian and I live in our own little bubble where nothing else can touch us. We wake up, have sex, eat breakfast, and then repeat. In the afternoons, we’ve taken to lying by the fire and napping, which I can’t seem to get enough of lately.
Sebastian asks me several times if I’m okay, but I assure him it’s just the school year catching up with me. I’m exhausted, but I’m content.
On Christmas morning, he surprises me with a gift, and I feel like an asshole because I have nothing for him. When I tell him so, he doesn’t look like he cares in the least.
“Your pussy is my gift,” he says crudely. “And I’ll be enjoying it several times today. Now open it.”
I take the box from him and gently pry off the lid to find a white gold bar necklace with an engraving that couldn’t be more fitting from Sebastian. Owned is scrawled across the back in elegant calligraphy font. It’s beautiful, and it looks like it cost more than any other piece of jewelry I’ve ever worn.
“Wear it always,” he commands in a gravelly voice. “And remember who you belong to.”
The attention whore in me claps gleefully as I hand it over to him. “Can you help me put it on?”
He secures the chain around my neck and brushes my hair to the side before his lips are on me. “Do you like it?”
“I love it,” I whisper. And you. “Thank you.”
“Good.” He bites into my neck. “You can love it on your knees while you deep throat my cock.”
As it turns out, he means that quite literally. After taking my clothes off, Sebastian gets into the holiday spirit by face-fucking me on my knees. Once that’s out of his system, he takes me against the floor-to-ceiling windows and makes love to me in front of the fire. It’s no small wonder that I’m exhausted, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. I want to feel his pulse inside of me until I turn to dust.
We spend the rest of the afternoon naked with my head against his chest while he drapes his arm over me casually. It feels comfortable. It almost feels too perfect, and when his phone shatters the silence between us, it turns out that I’m right.
At first, he ignores it, humming his frustration as he traces the lines of my body, which is admittedly a little softer than I’d like it to be. If my mother saw me now, she’d probably accuse me of stress eating and make arrangements to send me to fat camp on the first available bus. But Sebastian doesn’t seem to mind, or even notice, as far as I can tell.
His phone rings again, and this time, he reluctantly staggers to his feet and glares at the screen.
“Yes?” he answers briskly, glancing back at me before he disappears down the hall, shutting the bedroom door behind him.
I try not to let it bother me, but I’m curious who’s on the line. While he’s busy with his conversation, I help myself to his bag, poking around for one of his tee shirts I can throw on. Preferably something that already smells like him. I hit the jackpot at the bottom, but his tee shirt isn’t the only thing I find. The same necklace from his medicine cabinet is in there too. And this time, when I pick it up, I notice a small engraving on the side that I missed before. Katherine Carter.
My stomach flips as I stuff the evidence back into the bag and glance at the door down the hall. It’s still closed, and I can’t hear Sebastian. I don’t know how long I reasonably have before he comes back, but now that I have this information, I’m dying to Google that name. I scramble for my phone and pull up an incognito browser, but before I can even click enter, the door opens, and Sebastian appears. He stares right through me, and I don’t know what’s changed, but it’s obvious from his posture that something has.
“Are you okay?” I ask hesitantly.
He doesn’t respond. Instead, he gathers his discarded clothing from the couch and begins to dress. In a matter of a few minutes, everything has completely changed. His face is a wall of apathy, and I don’t like it. Already, I can feel him slipping away, out of my grasp, and back into the dark hole he’s exiled himself to.
“Tell me about the necklace,” I blurt recklessly. Desperation has taken the wheel now, and I’m merely a passenger on this train heading for disaster. As soon as Sebastian turns his gaze on me, I know I’ve made a fatal mistake. With one simple statement, I’ve woken the lumbering beast inside of him.
“What?” he snarls.
My hand trembles as I point toward his bag. “The necklace you brought. The one with Katherine Carter’s name on it.”
“What were you doing in my bag?” Vacant eyes cut through me, and it’s too late. I’ve already lost him.
“Please, Sebastian. You can’t do this to me again. Talk to me.”
“Talk to you?” he mocks. “There’s nothing to talk about, Stella. Don’t you get that? This was a mistake. You need to go back to Loyola. Call a taxi and take the afternoon ferry.”
He completes his cruel tirade by yanking cash from his wallet and tossing it onto the couch like I’m a common whore. I want to say something, but I can’t. I can’t even breathe. I’m pretty sure this time, Sebastian Carter has finally broken me.
FOR THREE MISERABLE DAYS, I take shelter at Sebastian’s house on campus. I’m not proud to admit that I resorted to sneaking in through an unlocked window, but I just know this is where I need to be. He won’t answer my texts or calls, and I’m determined to speak with him when he returns. When he finally does, it’s late, and he catches me asleep in his bed.
“What are you doing?”
The sound of his voice jolts me awake, and I scramble to my feet, wracking my sleep-addled brain for the speech I prepared.
“Hi.” I take a tentative step toward him, hopeful that he’s in a better place than he was three days ago.
He doesn’t look as happy to see me. In fact, it appears he’s completely re-erected the ice fortress around himself. But I know if I had a chisel, beneath all that anger, I would find nothing but raw pain.
“I know about your father,” I blurt. “I’m so sorry, Sebastian. I read the news, and I understand now that’s why you disappeared that morning.”
“What the fuck are you doing in my house?” His words hit me like shrapnel, and even though I told myself I’d be prepared for this, I’m definitely not.
“Seriously?” I fold my arms across my chest to hide my nerves. “You’ve just spent an entire week inside me. Don’t act like I’m crossing some invisible fucking line now. I want you to talk to me. I need you to talk to me.”
He turns his back on me, and my determination begins to crack. As much as I want to believe we can get past this, I don’t know if I’ll ever completely break down his walls.
“Detention, Miss LeClaire,” he barks with the authority of my teacher. “Now.”
His words stun me into silence. He’s resorted to treating me as if I’m nothing more than a student, and I can’t help wondering if this is another test. If I stay here, I fail. If I go, maybe there’s still hope. So even though I’m fully aware he can’t rightfully give me detention on winter break, I turn on my heel and head for the building anyway.
The classroom is unlocked, and I take a seat at my usual desk, waiting for him to come. Ten minutes pass. Then twenty. Then thirty. After an hour, he does show up, only to open the door, look at me, and leave again. Another two hours later, he returns and takes a seat at the desk. His face is a mask of indifference and it feels like we’re back to the beginning all over again. Every hard-won ounce of progress has imploded, and I’m at a loss. Silence fills the space between us, and I hold out for as long as I can. But after the five-hour mark, I’m no longer able to hold my bodily functions.
To my utter humiliation, my bladder empties itself all over the seat and drips down onto the floor. Sebastian glances up with a bored expression on his face, and it’s at this point, he finally speaks.
“Now you are free to go, Miss LeClaire.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
STELLA
“YOU LOOK LIKE HELL.” Sybil flops down onto the bed beside me.
“I feel like hell,” I reply.
“Have you spoken with him?”
“No.” I shake my head. “As far as I know, he hasn’t returned to campus. There’s been no texts, no phone calls, but these arrived today. There wasn’t a note though.”
She examines the box of burgundy eternity roses from Fleurs De Paris with the same level of scrutiny I had when I checked them over. “It seems like something he would do. Is he trying to send you a message without actually saying it?”
“He’s toying with me. That’s what it feels like anyway. He made it pretty clear before he left where I stood. So why the cryptic flowers?”
“He doesn’t strike me as the type who likes the taste of an apology on his lips,” Sybil observes. “Maybe this is his way of trying to convey something along those lines.”
“I don’t know.” I glare at the flowers.
“So, he never told you about his father?” she asks.
“No.” The school announced his absence today due to a death in the family. There was no indication of how long he’d be gone for, or if he’d even be coming back.
“How did it go down exactly?” She offers me a gummy bear, and I decline.
“Everything was fine, and then it wasn’t.” I shrug. “He took me to Nantucket, and then he told me to leave. A few days later, he showed up to get some of his things, I assume, and left again.”
I leave out the part about detention, which I now understand was a message from Sebastian. How far will you go to prove yourself to me, Stella? Why are you even here, Stella? Now that you understand your loyalty means nothing, you are free to go, Stella.
“I’m sure it was just the grief talking,” she says, trying her best to make me feel better about the situation.
“I’m sure it was,” I agree. “But I just don’t think I have anything left to give.”
“I don’t blame you.” She shakes her head. “He’s been a major prick. I mean most men are at times, but Sebastian could give the worst of them a run for their money.”
Sybil’s disparaging analysis doesn’t make me feel any better. “He is an asshole, but I think I’ve finally figured out why.”
She quirks an eyebrow and turns toward me, bumping my knee with hers. “Do tell.”
“You know how you mentioned that it was odd he didn’t play soccer?”
“Yeah?” She nods.
“Well, he told me it was because he had a career-ending injury. He was pretty vague about the whole incident, but then I found this necklace in his bag. It had someone else’s name on it, and when I looked it up, I found out it was his sister.”
“Why would he carry around his sister’s necklace?” Sybil asks.
“I think he carries it around to punish himself.” I pull my phone off the dresser and scroll through my bookmarks. “Or maybe to remember her. I’m not really sure, but I found this, and it explains a lot.”
Once I have the article pulled up, I hand the phone to Sybil, and she reads in silence while I wait. Her expression morphs from one of curiosity to horror in the matter of a few moments.
“Holy shit,” she whispers. “His sister was murdered, and he watched it go down? No wonder he’s so fucked up.”
“They attacked him too,” I point out. “That was the career-ending injury he mentioned. But the whole thing seems odd. The article says Sebastian willingly handed over his wallet, but they still beat him and killed his sister.”
“Well, people are insane.” She hands me back the phone. “Who knows why they did it. But that explains why he’s always freaking out about your safety.”
“At least, why he used to.” I shrug. The truth is, I haven’t heard from Sebastian in weeks, and I have a horrible feeling in my gut I never will again. From what I’ve gathered, he and his father weren’t close, but it’s obvious his death has shaken him, nonetheless.
“You never know.” Sybil rubs my back. “Things could get better.”
“They could.” I offer her a watery smile. “But honestly, my well of hope has run dry. I think I just need to be done now.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
STELLA
“ARE YOU OKAY?” Sybil rubs my back as I vomit into the toilet for the second time this evening.
“I’m fine.” I wave her away. “Go have fun. I just need to rest.”
“I’m not leaving you here like this.” She kneels beside me and worries her lip between her teeth. “You’ve been sick since I got back. I think you need to see the doctor.”
“I don’t,” I protest. “It’s just the stress of everything.”
She props her hip against the sink and waits for me while I wash my face and rinse out my mouth. “Stella, I don’t want to ask this, but I think I have to.”
“What?” I stare at my empty reflection in the mirror.
“Did Mr. Carter… you know, wrap it before he tapped it?”
My hollow stomach rumbles, and I shake my head as I confirm what I’ve already suspected. The thing I’ve been too terrified to admit to myself.
“Oh my God,” she shrieks. “We have to go get a pregnancy test.”
“Could you say that any louder?” I narrow my eyes at her.
“I’m sorry, but this is crazy. I can’t believe you haven’t even thought to—”
“I have thought,” I cut her off. “But I’m already pretty sure, Sybil. I don’t know what to do.”
Fat teardrops splash against my cheeks, and she pulls me in for a hug with a promise that everything is going to be okay.
“No matter what, I’ll always be here for you,” she assures me.
“You’re all I have.” I hang my head and slip a palm over my growing belly. It’s already March. It’s been three months since I’ve seen or heard from Sebastian. Pretty soon, I won’t be able to hide it anymore, and I’ve never been so scared in my life.
“Let’s go.” Sybil loops her arm through mine and tugs me out of the bathroom.
“Where?” I ask.
“I have a doctor on speed dial,” she tells me. “My dad says I can see her anytime I want. I’m taking you to her.”
I almost hit the brakes, but I know Sybil is right. I can’t put this off any longer. I need to bite the bullet, and then I have to figure out what the hell I’m going to do.
“SAY SOMETHING,” Sybil pleads.
I stare numbly at the paperwork I brought back to the dorm with me. “Like what?”
“Anything. You’re making me nervous.”
I gaze out the window, imagining what would happen if I saw Sebastian running by right now. What would he say if he knew that in five months, I’d be having his baby?
“Do you think I can make it to graduation without anyone finding out?” I ask.
She eyeballs my belly. “You can hardly tell right now. I think if you wear cardigans and sweaters during the cold months, you’ll be fine. But I don’t know about when it gets warmer. Regardless, we’ll figure it out.”
“I have to find a place to live,” I blurt. “And get a job. And buy things. So many things. Do you know how much stuff babies need?”
“What you need to do is tell Sebastian.” Sybil yanks out her phone, and I watch as she types his name into the Google search bar. Something I haven’t dared to do since I found out about his father. A flood of articles comes up, and when Sybil clicks on the photos, her face scrunches up in anger.
“What is it?” I try to see what she’s looking at, but she pulls the phone out of my reach and hides it behind her back.
“Nothing. You don’t need to see.”
“Sybil.” I reach around her and pry the phone from her fingers. “Quit hiding shit from me. If there’s something I need to see…”
I choke on my words as an image of Sebastian and Megan pops up next to a news article.
Sebastian Carter of Carter Holdings pictured with Megan Hill at a dinner to honor his late father’s memory.
Unable to stop myself, I read on about the hotel tycoon’s unexpected return to New York City, and how he has taken his rightful seat in the business upon his father’s death.
“Stella.” Sybil’s voice cracks as the phone falls from my hand. “I’m so sorry.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
SEBASTIAN
“HAVE YOU MADE A DECISION?” My father’s advisor, Edward Hanson, stares down his nose over his wire-rimmed glasses as he studies the paperwork on my desk.
I barely spare a second glance at the empty signature field before I turn my attention to the New York City Skyline. From up here, the whole world still looks like it’s wide-awake, even though it’s well after midnight. I’d forgotten in my time at Loyola just how noisy living in the city can be. But now, the constant noise is all I hear.
“This was your father’s legacy,” Edward says. “He wanted you here, Sebastian.”
“He wanted to control me,” I reply coldly. “And this company was just another way to do that. It was never his legacy. My mother was the true Carter, and my father was just along for the ride.”
In the reflection of the glass, Edward scratches at his beard, obviously at a loss with this truth bomb. He’s only worked for my father for the past three years, so he wouldn’t have any knowledge on the subject.
“Elena Carter was the heiress to the Carter fortune,” I explain. “This company, the hotels, everything belonged to her. They were never my father’s. After they married, he changed his name. He wanted everyone to believe he built this empire, but he inherited it, same as me.”
“I’m sorry,” Edward replies. “I wasn’t aware.”
I don’t answer him because there’s nothing left to say. I already made my decision, but I know Edward will try to talk me out of it. He’s a business minded man, and I can’t fault him for that.
“You could let the board run the company,” he suggests. “There’s very little you’d have to do. But that way, the legacy will remain intact.”
