Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 69836 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 349(@200wpm)___ 279(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69836 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 349(@200wpm)___ 279(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
I release the handbrake, then shove the keys into the ignition, turn and— nothing happens.
It’s as if I’d been stabbed with a hot poker, but when I try again, and then for the third time, my vehicle chokes, trembles… and stays dead.
This isn’t the first time this has happened—it’s a very old car, and the December cold isn’t playing in my favor either, but I wasn’t too worried about the unreliability of my ride when I parked earlier. Mostly because I never intended to pull the trigger, and the worst I expected was a fine for disturbing the peace.
That ship has sailed.
Maybe I should have chosen a car based on reliability, not how much space it has inside, but that wasn’t really an option when it has to accommodate all the shit I own.
Now, my only choice is to leave it all behind.
My car will be found, and my identity discovered along with it.
With a lump in my throat, I open the car door as I think of all the bad choices I’ve made in my life. And yet, I can’t regret my actions. Sullivan got what he deserved even if I’ll pay for revenge with my life.
My heart sinks when I spot several police cars driving into the parking lot with a squeak of wheels. They stop right by the tall Christmas trees, their headlights on me as cops flood out of the vehicles, yelling something I can’t hear with the thudding in my head.
They’re about to get me, I’m sure of it, but just as I’m on the verge of lifting my hands in defeat, the largest of the trees tips over, descending onto the vehicles like a whale crashing onto a boat in the middle of the ocean. The cops scatter, for a moment forgetting my existence in favor of saving their lives, and this is my chance.
Unbelievably, I still have one.
I’m about to shoot across the parking lot, out of sight, when I spot someone retreating into the shadows of the building, very close to the base of the collapsed tree. I swear it’s a real man, not some phantom my mind has created in its panicked state. I might be a fool, but not enough to squander a chance when it’s thrown at me, so I dash past the steel barrier at the edge of the lot and tumble down a hill, beyond the glow of the streetlights.
Thank fuck I don’t hear dogs.
Christmas miracle?
Chapter 3
Cesar
He’s too thin. Not that he’s unattractive. But if it were up to me, I’d put him on a regimen of nutritionally-dense foods, with plenty of protein, broth for collagen, and lots of fresh vegetables, to help with whatever deficiencies he must surely be dealing with. I’ve shadowed him for the past twenty-four hours and know he hasn’t had a single bite of food in that time.
At this rate, he might collapse from hunger and exhaustion, but even then he would be in no danger. Not on my watch.
The cops must have gotten his name based on the registration of the abandoned car. It’s Elijah, but he goes by Eli on social media, so that’s how I choose to think about him as I watch his shoulders from the back of the bus. Most people won’t be able to recognize him from the old photo publicized all over the media. Since it was taken, his features have sharpened, giving his already narrow face a fox-like appearance. And most importantly, there’s no brown left on his head, just a mix of dark and bright grays. It’s unusual on a man as young as him. Silver dusted over dark steel. A bold choice. Most men his age would have cropped it shorter to not bring attention to it, but he’s grown it into a wavy mop that reaches past his ears. Then again, maybe he just can’t afford a barber. The padded jacket he’s wearing is two sizes too big and mended in at least three places. Worst are the shoes, with one of the soles opening like a mouth when he walks.
But now that I’ve memorized his scent, I could follow him anywhere, even if he managed to disguise his appearance. He doused himself in some cheap orange and cinnamon perfume he picked up from a street seller, but as unpleasant as the intensity of that aroma is, the natural musk of Eli’s body is shining through the more the deodorant wears off. I can’t quite put my finger on it yet, but as I trail him, checking out places he touched, the scent of sand or… dust is quite prominent, as well as a hint of natural sweetness, which I long to taste straight from the source.
That’s not why I’m following him, of course, and Eli’s likely as interested in men as the vast majority of the male population, but I am free in my fantasies and imagine myself on top of his slender form, face buried between his shoulder-blades, and dick getting warm in his crack.