I glanced at the cashier, giving her a tight smile and shaking my head, just as the soap opera on the TV was cut and a news reporter appeared on the screen.
"Famous TV preacher and the media's sweetheart, Ricardo Hawthorne, is being sought out by the authorities," the woman said solemnly.
"That will be thirty-seven ninety-nine," the cashier said kindly as my eyes widened at the sight on the TV. I passed her the hundred-dollar bill, hurrying to grab everything off the counter. "Wait, honey, don't you want your change?"
"Keep it," I muttered, watching all of our faces flash across the TV screen. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
I made my way out of the gas station, to our car where papa had just filled up the tank.
"Pa-papa," I managed to get out.
"What?" He turned to face me. He looked ten years older than he had the previous night, when everything had still been okay.
"We're on the TV in there," I whispered. "The news reporter... she said they were looking for us."
"Shit." He rubbed his eyes, then looked up at me with new-found steely determination. "Get in the car, Estella."
"W-What?" I narrowed my eyes at him. "What about..."
"Car. Now!" He pulled the handle for the gas out of the car, pushing it back into the stand with force. I scrambled to get into the backseat, the snacks I bought going everywhere. Papa got into the driver's seat just as I saw mama and Romi coming out of the bathrooms.
"Wait for them, papa," I managed. "They're right there!"
"There's no time," he barked, reversing out of the parking lot, the wheels screeching loudly on the asphalt. "We need to leave, now."
"But papa!" I cried out, placing my palms on the window. "Mama and Romi, they-"
"Fucking shut up!" he cried out, and I felt tears spilling down my cheeks as he pulled out of the gas station, mama and Romi's terrified faces permanently ingrained in my memory.
I didn't dare say a word. I leaned back and strapped myself in with the seat belt. Papa was driving like a maniac and my heart was beating faster than ever as he got on the left lane, getting ahead of all the cars in front of us. Several cars honked at us, but papa paid it no mind, he just kept on driving.
I'd stopped believing in God a long time ago, but I was so terrified, my lips started moving in a silent prayer. Dios, salva me. Please God, make sure everything will be okay.
I couldn’t stop my thoughts from going back to Milo. They circled around him, always coming back to the image of his laughing face, of his dark hair, of the glasses he kept pushing up the bridge of his nose. Milo, my Milo. When was I going to see him again? And where on earth was papa taking me?
I was too scared to speak up, but my heart started pounding harder than ever as papa stepped on the gas. We were going much too fast. I was scared for my life. Scared for papa. Whatever he was trying to run away from was bad, that much I knew for sure. He was going to kill us both if he didn't watch the road. That's why I kept quiet, focusing my attention on the prayers that were now softly leaving my lips.
Papa roared to laughter when he heard me. "Suddenly religious now, are you, you little brat?"
"I-I..." I struggled to find the words as another wave of hot tears hit my cheeks. "Papa, I'm scared!"
He didn't respond, just swerved to the left to avoid a car in the way, making me shriek in fear.
"Shut up!" he yelled, and I started sobbing softly, terrified for my own life.
The car radio crackled to life. "Emergency warning for anyone traveling on the M39 highway. There is a reckless driver on the road believed to be Ricardo Hawthorne, now a person wanted by the police-"
Papa turned the radio off, smashing his fist into the screen. I took a deep breath when I heard the first sirens. Looking over my shoulder behind us, I saw a police car in the distance, blue and red lights flashing, the faint sound of the siren nearing us.
"Papa, you need to stop," I begged him. "They're coming after us!"
He ignored me, putting his foot on the pedal harder. We sped up. I was crying freely now, barely able to see anything in front of me through the tears. The sound of the siren got lost in the distance and papa laughed triumphantly. I couldn't believe what was happening. I couldn't believe this was my life. I was on the run. I was alone with papa, who seemed to be losing his mind. And if he didn't slow down, we were in real danger of getting into an accident.
He made a sharp right turn, getting off on one of the exits from the motorway. I shrieked when I was thrown against the right window of the car with force, banging my head on the glass.
"Papa, please!" I cried out. "We're going to get hurt!"
Once again, he ignored me. He just kept on driving like a madman. I heard someone wailing and it took me a few minutes to realize it was me. Suddenly, another car appeared in front of us - a police car. Papa swerved to the left and I screamed as the wheels rolled into nothing. We were falling, we were crashing. There was no asphalt under the wheels anymore, just grass. We were going straight for a tree.
"Papa!" I cried out to warn him, and he swerved out of the way just in time.
Time stood still. The left side of the car slammed into the tree, and suddenly, we were suspended in air. I couldn't stop screaming. The car turned to the side. My hair flew all over the place, my sobs suddenly stopping as my life flashed before my eyes. Then, with an almighty thud, the car landed on its right side, the wheels still spinning as everything went utterly quiet.
Pain exploded in my left arm and I cried out as the sirens approached us again. There was the sound of car doors slamming, the blaring of the sirens almost unbearable. I heard papa groan, I heard someone using a megaphone outside, but I could barely hear them over the ringing sound in my head.
"Get out of the vehicle. Exit the vehicle immediately."
I cried out. How the hell was I going to get out?
"I'm stuck," I cried out. "I'm stuck!"
"Shut up, Estella," papa roared. "Shut up!" I watched him struggle with his seatbelt, somehow managing to get out on the passenger's side. He left me there, never bothering to check whether I was okay. I heard gunshots. I heard screams. I only realized later that some of them were mine. And then everything went utterly black.
"Stells? Stells, can you hear me?" A soft hand touched the side of my face, caressing me. "Everything's going to be okay, princess. I promise you."
"W-What?" I struggled to open my eyes. It felt like they were weighed down, my mind foggy. There was the sound of relieved laughter as my eyes flew open, dancing around the people around me. "What... what happened?"
"You're okay, baby." Mama's relieved voice cut in, and another palm joined the other one. My mother's face appeared in front of me, bright lights above her.
"Oh God," I cried out. "Where am I?"
"You're in a hospital, baby, you broke your arm," mama cried. "But you're okay. Everything's going to be okay."
"Where is p-papa?" I stuttered. "Is he okay?"
A short silence followed before mama nodded. "He was shoot in the foot, but he should be fine. He's in operation now."
I groaned as I picked myself up. My left arm was clumsy and heavy, and when I looked down, I saw it was enclosed in a hot pink cast up to my elbow. Finally, I looked around the room. Romi was there with mama. And next to them, sitting on my bed, was Milo.
"W-What are y-you doing here?" I asked him, narrowing my eyes at him.
"He got here as soon as he could," Romi told me softly. "He hasn't left your side."
"I saw the news," Milo said. "I went to your house yesterday morning, and all of you were gone. I got to the hospital as soon as I could. You were brought here yesterday evening, after they fixed your hand. You were drifting in and out of consciousness."
"Why did you come?" I asked, feeling hopeful. "Why did you want to see me?"
Mama and Romi exchanged glances before getting up. "We'll give you kids a moment," mama whispered, and they left the room, leaving just Milo and me.
I glanced around the sp
ace. The room was all-white, and I was the only patient. Milo scooted closer to me, taking my unharmed hand in his.
"I fixed things," he said. "I... I have a lot to tell you. For reasons out of my control, I was forced to stay away from you for the past few months. But that's never going to happen again, princess. I'm never leaving."
"But... You don't want to be with me." I hated myself for crying again, but I couldn't help it. All of this was too much. Too fucking much.
"I do," Milo said. "I don't want to be with anyone else. I want to spend the rest of my life making sure you're okay, Stells. I want you to be mine."
I pulled my hand away, massaging my temple. "I'm scared, Milo. What's going to happen to us?"
"You're all safe," he reassured me. "The police were looking for your papa, not the three of you."
"But... what's going on?" I asked, turning to him with a pleading gaze. "Why do they want him?"
"I..." He shook his head. "I'll explain everything soon."
"Is he in trouble?"
"Yes, Stells, he is." He gave me a reassuring smile. "But you aren't. And we're going to make sure you're okay. My dads have booked a suite in a hotel close-by to Wildwood for you."
"Okay," I nodded, feeling confused. "Why can't we just go back to our house?"
He squeezed my healthy palm. "They're running an investigation on your father, Stells. You can't go back home, not for a while. It looks like the house might be seized."
"No," I whispered. "No, that can't be true." I raised my eyes hopefully to Milo's, but his gaze told me everything I needed to know. "What's going to happen to papa?"
"I think..." he sighed. "I think he might go to jail, Stells."
"For a long time?" My eyes filled with tears.
"I'm afraid so."
"Milo?"
"Yes?"
I bit my bottom lip as I asked, "Are you going to make sure he can never hurt us again?"
His expression turned serious and he nodded gravely. "Yes. I promise you that, Stells. You got everyone on your side, especially me. And we're going to keep you safe from now on, like we should have been doing from the beginning."
"Okay," I whispered, watching him. He was there. He was with me. That was all that mattered. "Milo, do you..."
"Do I what?"
"Do you..." Once again, I worried my bottom lip between my teeth. "Do you still care about me?"
"Yes." He stared deep into my eyes, and I knew without a shadow of a doubt that he was telling the truth. "Stells, I... I love you."
"You do?" My voice was weak, and I hated myself for how much I needed to hear him say it. "You really, really do?"
"Yes." He traced a fingertip over my lips. "And I'll never stop. I'll always be here for you. From now on, it's you and me against the world, Stells. Would you like that?"
I found myself nodding, imagining a world where Milo Earnshaw would always be protecting me. It was a good thought.
"Good," he muttered. "Because from this moment onward, I'm not letting anyone else hurt you ever again."
27
DATE: DECEMBER 21ST, 2019, 9 A.M.
PLACE: WILDWOOD ACADEMY
MILO
"I don't know if I can do this." She swallowed thickly. "I don't want to go back. I don't want to face them."
"You're going to be okay." I took her hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. "I'll be right there next to you making sure everything goes okay. And I'm not going to let anyone pick on you."
"Not even Harlem?"
"Especially not Harlem." I grinned at my girl. "Come on, you can do this. I've got your back."
She took a deep breath before accepting the hand I'd held out for her and getting out of my brand-new car, a deep blue Range Rover. I could tell how nervous she was, trembling lightly in the firm grip of my hand. I helped her get up and wrapped my arm around her hip, pulling her in for one last reassuring kiss.
It was Estella's first day back at Wildwood, and she was understandably nervous. Thankfully, it was the last day of school before our Christmas break began. She wouldn't have to suffer for long - she just had to get through the day.
She was wearing some makeup that day, since the car accident had left a nasty bruise on her face. She'd covered it up the blotchy yellow and blue marks with concealer. Her uniform was freshly pressed, but there was no sign of rebel Estella from the beginning of the year, with her too-short skirt and too many buttons open on her shirt. Yet she seemed more like herself than ever before, and I loved it.
The past few days had been a whirlwind. While Estella recovered, her papa was taken into the hospital, and into custody after that. He'd broken two ribs and got shot in the foot, but that was the least of his problems now.
Ironically, what caused Ricardo Hawthorne's downfall in the end were his indulgences. For a man who was so publicly religious, he sure had his vices - and it was one of those that exposed him for who he truly was. When I'd visited the massage parlor with Finn, I'd spoken to the girl Ricardo had been seeing for over a year. And she was the one who found some inconsistencies in the spa's finances, bringing Ricardo’s dirty laundry into the public eye. It was the last shred of evidence the police needed to close in on Estella's father. But the man had eyes and ears everywhere, and he received a warning from one of his co-workers early one morning. Instead of walking out with his head held high, the man panicked, stashed his entire family in the car and drove them off to the apartment I'd seen him book months ago. This was his backup plan - to escape with his family and start a new life somewhere. But he hadn't anticipated the chase that would ensue. And he didn't hesitate before putting his loved ones' lives in danger just to get away.
Stells had gotten the brunt of it all. After her father had left her mama and sister at that gas station, they called the cops with the help of the cashier, after which a dramatic car race ensued. I thanked my lucky stars Stells had gotten away without massive injuries. She'd only wear her cast for two weeks, and the doctors had promised her she'd make a full recovery within a month.
For her father, things weren't looking good. He was awaiting trial in jail after his family refused to pay bail. I thought it served him right.
While the Hawthorne's home was being ransacked by the police, my Dads had offered to pay for a suite at a local hotel for the Hawthorne. Except they weren’t the Hawthornes anymore.
The three women had all changed their last name back to Hernandez. They accepted my parents’ offer gratefully and had been staying at the Rockdale Bay for a couple of days, slowly recovering from the drama.
Estella didn't want to come back to school, but I'd managed to convince her things were going to be okay, and I had her back. Now, as she stood in front of the Academy, nervously chewing her bottom lip, I could only hope I'd been right.
We had our first lesson together, and we headed into the school holding hands.
I felt prying eyes on us, every single student going quiet when we passed them. Conversation stood at a stand-still as we made our way to the classroom, and I could feel Estella trembling next to me. Every time she gave me a fearful glance, I smiled to reassure her, and it seemed to help.
We took our seats in the classroom at neighboring desks, and she flushed as she started taking her things out of her bag. She was clumsy with the cast on, and I helped her get everything ready for the lesson.
I could feel Harlem's presence in the same room, watching us like a hawk. She was just waiting for an opportunity to attack, but I'd be damned before I let that happen. I'd protect my girlfriend at any cost.
A moment later, the teacher walked in. He seemed surprised at the sight of Estella and did his best to go on with the lesson but was interrupted by constant whispering from the class.
"Enough!" he slammed his fist down on the desk, and Stells jumped in her seat. "You're all so distracted today. Do we need to address the elephant in the room?"
Please don't, I thought to myself. Don't make things more difficult for her than they already are.
"As you probably all know, a student who is amidst us all today was involved in a dramatic situation," he started, and I groaned inwardly, fighting the urge to stand up and tell him to just shut the fuck up. "That is no reason to make class difficult for everybody. Would it make you feel better if Estella said a few things?"
The class was silent, and I glanced at my girl, who was looking down at her desk, her hair falling in a curtain around her pretty face.
"I don't think that's appropriate, Mr. Jenkins," I spoke up.
"And who asked about your opinion, Milo?" He raised his brows at me. "Estella, stand up and address the class. We can't keep going with the lesson when everyone is this distracted."
My hands formed fists in my lap. I wanted to smack that smug smirk off the teacher's face. I wanted to protect Estella no matter what. But she surprised me yet again by taking a deep breath and slowly rising from her seat.
"I'm sure you've all seen what happened on the news," she said, defiantly staring at the class. "If you have any questions, ask me directly. I don't want to listen to your shitty whispered theories."
"Do you think you're partially guilty for what happened?" Of course, Harlem was the first one to speak up, and she smirked at Stells as the question left her juicy lips. "Like, the way you guys lived. Was that because of the money innocent people paid your father? Did you use their charity to live like kings and queens?"
I was about to cut in, but Stells was too fast for me.
"No," she said calmly. "Papa made most of his money with his TV show and the public sermons he ran around the country. The money he stole was kept in an offshore account none of us had access too. That money has now been frozen, and the feds are making sure it goes to the right people."
"So you don't feel any remorse?" Harlem went on. "You don't even feel a little bit bad about using those innocent people?"
Estella closed her eyes, and I could practically hear her counting to calm herself down. "No, I don't feel bad, because my father's mistakes are not my own, and I've done nothing wrong. I can't even stay at my house now. I'm staying in a hotel with my mom and sister, and none of us have done anything wrong." She raised her chin defiantly before going on. "And to be honest with you, Harlem, I was terrified of coming back here. I feared the comments and was scared of the judgement. But at the end of the day, the only person who gets to judge me and have an opinion, is me. And I'm going to do everything in my power to make up for my own mistakes. That's what I can promise you right now."
Boys That Read: A High School Romance (Lords of Wildwood Book 2) Page 23
