Gavin From Radio Rebel Novels & Stories

Gavin listened intently, occasionally nodding or asking for clarification, his focus unwavering. When the meeting finally wrapped up, the group filtered out, leaving just the three of us — Gavin, Piper, and me. Piper’s phone buzzed, and she excused herself to take the call, stepping outside. Perfect. “So,” I said, trying to sound casual as I stirred my coffee. “How are you holding up with all this chaos?” Gavin gave a small chuckle. “Honestly? I’ve been busier than I expected. But seeing everyone rally for Hannah makes it worth it.”

Thousands of knot tied themselves up in my stomach as goosebumps gathered in my forehead despite the fact the interior of the room was cold. He walked closer to the mirror, arranging his tie, he said “cutting these off, is the simplest thing to say, but the most difficult job to carryout. Cassian Gavino is a goddemn beast he wouldn’t give a fuck!” “Is a beast and you still want me to get married to him?” I asked admist the tears that began streaming down my cheeks.

Gavin stared for a full five seconds before blinking. “You look… wow.” I smiled, trying to act cool like Luca advised, but heat rushed to my cheeks anyway. “Thanks. You clean up well too.” He offered his arm. “Ready?” “As I’ll ever be.” — We started off awkward. There was the whole “which door do I open” dance, followed by Gavin very seriously programming the GPS even though he clearly knew the way. But then the radio came on. It was an alternative rock song I hadn’t heard in years.

But now, he's even welcoming him as if they have something to talk about. "I talked to the media," Gavin said as soon as he came out of his car. "Are you sure about your plan?" Gavin asked. "I know what I'm doing," he answered coldly. "Does she know?" Gavin asked again. "I'll explain to her after I announce it," he replied. "The Valestine are not easy to defeat, Gabe. They are greedy in power. Look what they did to the Castellan. They are still the traitor in this world we have," Gavin mentioned as he began to blow a smoke from his cigarette.

Groaning into the comforter, its fabric clenched tight in my fists, I scream. Hours pass, me alternating between screeches of frustration and staring at the ceiling, when a ping from my phone pulls me out of my tormenting thoughts. Walter: Status update? Me: Still breathing. Walter: Shit. Walter: Four more dead. Walter: Not our pack.

Even if he has to face his brother-in-law and father-in-law again, he will do it if it means finding Selene. After several hours of flight, he arrives at his destination. He stays in a human village for an entire week to avoid suspicion, though his appearance makes this quite difficult. News of a massive redhead in town spreads quickly throughout the area, reaching the ears of Ragnar and Ethan, who immediately go on high alert.

There he was— leaning against the auditorium doorway, dressed in all leather black, clutching a helmet, exuding that dangerous calm was— Killian Lancaster— The school bad boy— The school rebel. The dream boy of every female. Boys wanted to be like him, girls wanted him as a boyfriend, teachers saw him as a nuisance who's hardly in school or attended classes but somehow aced all his classes. He's freaking hot with his tall lean intimidating height, coupled with his pretty face and his long jet black hair hanging on his shoulders to round off the ensemble. His water glass eyes that melted both boys and girls fixated on me.

“Why do you even want my help so bad?” He tilted his head. “You mean… other than the fact that you’re the best?” I gave him a look. “Yes.” For once, Ryder didn’t answer right away. His gaze dropped to the table, and his voice was quieter when he finally spoke. “I need to clear my reputation.” I blinked. That wasn’t the answer I expected. “Your reputation?” “Yeah. I messed up last year.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “One shot, Lila. I have one shot to fix it, and I intend to take it.”

Harrison adds, “we’re no better than the ones holding the blades.” It’s a low blow, but it lands exactly where it needs to. Gavin sits back slowly, folding his hands in his lap. His face is composed, as always. He’s had media training since he was eight. His father was an actor. His mother, a sculptor of brands. Gavin Thatcher knows how to wear a mask better than anyone. But this isn’t a mask. Not right now. Right now, I can see the cracks. “You think the board would back me if I keep Parker on the gala?” he asks.

"Is it funny because you're not the victim here? How can you be so calm about this? They think I'm some shallow girl who used Ryan until someone rich came along. You know that's not what happened." "Jess, what do you want me to do? Go on live TV and try to defend ourselves?" "If that's what it takes, yes!" "That's beneath me, Jess," Gavin's expression hardened, "I won't go on TV and explain why my nephew's ex-girlfriend is now my wife. I don't care what they say, I've been here before; rumors end, everyone moves on at some point." With that, Gavin stood, headed for his car to shut the door.