Page 45 of Hate That Blooms

Thiago starts in before I can even tell them my plan. “Look, I’m gonna say this now. I love you like a brother, Quín, but I will not take part in hurting Gabby.”

I already knew this. Thiago may act all tough, but he would never hurt a woman. I don’t want them to hurt her, and the only hurt I am going to dole out is on her pussy. I would never hit her—I could never bring myself to do it.

“I know,carnal,” reaching forward and gripping his shoulder. “You know I’d never ask that of either of you.” I clear my throat and begin. “We’re going to get her when she gets off work. I know her sister will be safe with the care worker and I can send a text from Gabriela’s phone asking her to stay later. Then I was able to talk the janitor into leaving the business lecture hall unlocked for me tonight—it has a door that leads right to the parking lot. We can slip in with her, and then I’m going to fuck her on the desk. I need one of you to record it.”

I take a second to gauge their facial expressions and immediately Nathan smirks. “Fuck yeah, bro. Let’s do this shit.”

Thiago sighs, “I’ll drive her car to the school and you and Nate can take mine. But I’m not touching her, Quín. I’m serious.”

I nod.

This is it. Tonight she won’t have a choice—she’s going to be mine. All fucking mine. No ultimatum.

* * *

My leg bounces up and down in the back of Thiago’s car, my nerves getting the best of me.Breathe, Quín, you’ve got this.I can feel the sweat pooling at the base of my neck, the heat of the car’s interior pressing against my skin, suffocating. But it’s not the car’s heat that’s making me feel this way—it’s her. It’s Gabriela. The thought of her, of finally having her, of showing her who the fuck I am to her, it’s all-consuming.

“You good, bro?” Nathan’s voice cuts through the fog in my head, pulling me back to the present. His voice is light, too casual for the weight of what we’re about to do.

I turn my head slowly, catching his eyes in the rearview mirror. His smirk is still there—the one that makes me want to snap his neck. He thinks this is just some game, some stupid conquest. But it’s more than that. I don’t know if he can see it in my eyes—the way the fire burns in them. But I’m not just doing this to claim her. I’m doing it to make her understand that she’s not getting away. Not now, not ever.

“I’m fine,” I say through clenched teeth, forcing my leg to stop bouncing.

The car hums beneath us, gliding down the street toward the daycare center. The closer we get, the tighter the knot in my stomach pulls. I hate this. I hate feeling like this—out of control, second-guessing everything.

I look out the window, the city lights passing by in a blur, but all I can see is Gabriela’s face. The way she bites her lip when she’s nervous. The fire in her eyes when she thinks she’s right. It’s all so confusing. The way I feel for her.

Thiago doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t need to. I can feel the weight of his silence. I know what he thinks. He thinks I’m losing myself and that I’m going too far. But he doesn’t understand. He doesn’t get it. He’ll never get it.

When we pull up to the daycare, I can see the lights turning off inside. It’s late, and the parking lot is mostly empty except for one car. Hers.

This is it.

This is the moment.

I open the door before Thiago even stops the car, stepping out onto the asphalt with purpose. The cool night air hits my face, but it does nothing to calm the heat inside me. I’m not cold. I’m burning.

I glance at Thiago, who’s already out of the car, walking toward me with slow, deliberate steps. “You sure about this?” he asks, his voice lower now, almost hesitant.

“I’m sure,” I reply, the words coming out rougher than I intended. There’s no turning back now. No more doubts.

Thiago nods but doesn’t say anything else. He heads toward the back entrance, out of sight so that I’m the only person she sees when she leaves. Nathan stays in the car but shifts to the driver’s seat. I don’t want to think about what’s going on in his head, but I can tell that, for him, this is just another thrill to chase.

But not for me. For me, this is something different.

I move in silence, my footsteps echoing against the empty parking lot. I push open the door, and the smell of babies and coffee hits me immediately. The front of the daycare is dimly lit, the light coming from a single overhead light. It’s empty, save for the cribs and toy bins lined up in neat rows against the wall.

I take a moment to steady myself, to remind myself why I’m doing this. Gabriela’s gonna learn what it means to be mine. No more games, no more running. I’ll make her understand that we’re not playing around anymore.

Nathan gives me a thumbs up, starting up the car. Does he understand the gravity of what’s about to happen? Probably not. But I don’t care. None of it matters.

All that matters is that Gabriela is mine.

* * *

The minutes stretch on like hours. My chest tightens, the anticipation crawling under my skin. Every sound seems amplified—every footstep, every breath. When a door creaks open and I see her standing in the doorway, looking uncertain and a little confused, my heart slams against my ribs.

Gabriela.

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