Grand Slam (Batter Up #4)

Prologue

Hate. By definition: intense or passionate dislike.

I hated him.

I hated him.

I hated him.

I hated him because I had to hate him. Right?

Was I just the stupid blonde girl if I dared to admit I didn’t hate him, despite everything he had done, not only to me, but to my family?

He was rude, violent, ruthless, and cold.

He was the number one hitman for the mafia, Ray Romano’s right hand. He had done unspeakable things.

I hated him.

I had to hate him. There was no other option. If I didn’t hate him, they would call me crazy. Maybe I was crazy, because after everything… There was a fine line between love and hate.

That line was nonexistent to me when it came to Collin Stevens. He was everything I was supposed to hate.

But I didn’t hate him. I was going to save him.

He was my demon, the one who haunted my dreams and thoughts, but I was his angel. I would bring him into the light.

Even if it meant letting him drag me into the dark.