Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 106003 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 530(@200wpm)___ 424(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106003 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 530(@200wpm)___ 424(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
I wouldn’t be here if he hadn’t abducted me in the first place, but when he found me in that tunnel, the relief at seeing his face became the main emotion I associate with him, so instead of seeing him as a threat, I calm down in his presence.
I miss his solid form when he slides out of my grasp and locks the door. I want to reassure him that I won’t run again, but that would mean nothing to him right now. I gave him no reason to trust me, so I settle on the bed, watching him gravitate around the room, as if he’s self-conscious about my presence.
“So… why a cave? Carrying all this in here couldn’t have been easy.”
His expression tells me precisely nothing. He is a little flushed though. Is it because he knows this is a there’s-only-one-bed situation? I’m desperate to know so much more about him. His birth date has already told me a lot, but if I’m to crack what makes him tick, I’ll need more than my knowledge of astrology can provide.
It’s the first time I get to take a good long look at my new host. His hair is on the greasy side and a bit of a bird’s nest, but it’s thick, so nothing my skills can’t fix, if he lets me. I’ve often bartered my hairdressing or manicure skills for various services. After all, not every plumber is up for getting their dick sucked by a guy. Some don’t even have dicks. One thing my first insufferable ex was good for was putting me through beauty school.
I could even give Creep a facial of the non-sexual kind. His skin seems dry, and his lips could use some moisturizing. But his body? I wonder how it would feel on top of me.
“This cave is… You’ve seen the tunnels. It’s private.”
“Are you on the run from the law?” I ask without thinking, then place both my hands on my lips, worried I’ve overstepped.
“No. And I won’t have to be if you don’t tell anyone what I did.”
Creep turns around and opens the wardrobe. I hope he’s about to take off his top, so I get to see his back. I also like the way he moves. He slouches, but it’s still like watching a predator roam around with their head low, not an overworked IT specialist.
I lick my lips. “No, of course not! I won’t be mourning that bastard, for sure!”
It’s a bit of a stretch, since I do feel uneasy about witnessing Adam’s death, but he was a shithead, and I don’t feel sorry that he’s gone. I should have known better than to fuck a Gemini. I’m just worried about potential consequences, which brings me back to the fact that it all happened in my home.
“Um… so… will I not be a suspect?”
“I cleaned things up.” Creep pulls out a T-shirt, identical to the other ten hung alongside it, and shows it to me. “Would you like a T-shirt to sleep in?”
Does he want me to sleep in his clothes?
Scratch that. I want to sleep in his clothes.
“Thank you, that’s very thoughtful,” I say, but when he turns and bright light licks his tattooed arm, I stall at the sight of a phrase I have the misfortune of knowing all too well. “Motorcycle Club. Are you a Hell’s Butcher?” I ask, trying not to let my tone betray how nervous this makes me. Because if he is Domino’s friend, then I might be in more trouble than it originally seemed.
His gaze whips to me, burning like two hate-stained coals, and he scowls, once again revealing his canines. Were this a young adult novel, I would soon find out he’s a vampire. “Hell no.” He pulls up the sleeve and comes closer. “You’ll end up seeing it anyway.”
The artwork on his skin depicts a menacing vulture perched on a skull and surrounded by lightning bolts, some of which resemble knives. The writing below it reads, Vulture Hollow MC.
I don’t know that much about biker gangs, but even I heard of a massive shootout between the Vultures and the Hell’s Butchers last year. Some gang war resulting in several dead. It all took place in the village of Vulture Hollow, a small settlement in the woods run by the bikers. Could we be close to that place? Or does Creep live somewhere separate from his buddies?
The air trapped in my lungs finally escapes, and I nod, tracing the bird with the top of my finger. Could the enemy of my enemy be my friend? Creep twitches, like a horse trying to get a fly off its skin, but I keep touching, because I know that deep down he wants it, and the more he likes my company, the higher the probability that I’ll leave this cavern alive.