Love and Monsters (Book Club Boys #1) Read Online Max Walker

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Crime, M-M Romance, Romance, Suspense, Thriller Tags Authors: Series: Book Club Boys Series by Max Walker
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Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 75720 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 379(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
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“It is,” I said, looking out the window at the quaint place. Robby’s mansion in the mountains put this one to shame, and yet I wouldn’t trade it for the world. I didn’t care that it didn’t have a view or a hot tub or a hundred windows. It wasn’t Robby’s, and it wasn’t full of cameras, so I was happy.

“Come on, let’s get settled,” Jake said as he put the car in park. He looked my way, and I could tell he was worried for me. The wrinkles in his forehead give him away, his eyebrows doing origami work with how much they folded together.

“I’ll be fine, Jake. Don’t get too stressed-out.” Now it was my turn to offer empty reassurances.

“It’s just… if he saw us in the hot tub. I’m wondering what that would make him do.”

I swallowed a ball of acid. “I thought about that, too. But there’s nothing we can do about it right now.”

“We need a plan. Some kind of way to prove that he’s the one doing all this. Making our lives a living hell.”

“Maybe we can bait him?” I asked, sitting up a little straighter. “It might be dangerous, but it could be the only shot we have at ending this before he does something even more unhinged.”

“Bait him how? I’m not doing anything that puts you in danger.”

I shook my head, my hand on the door handle. It was beginning to feel stuffy inside the car. “No, but maybe I can call him. We can record the conversation, try to get him to admit to stalking me.” I took a deep breath and pulled on the door handle. “But let’s talk about it outside. I’m getting claustrophobic.”

We got out of the car, the scent of dirt and wood drifting over from a construction site across the street, where the skeleton of another cabin was beginning to form. Jake got our bags from the back of the car and walked with me to the front of the cabin, the door painted a bright blue. There were a couple of potted ferns hanging from the awning that seemed slightly singed at the tips of their leaves. A ”welcome home” wreath hung on the door, a couple of spiders having decided to do just that and set up their webs in the fake leaves.

“Do you think talking to him might just make him more unpredictable?” Jake asked as I unlocked the door with the code I was given.

“Maybe,” I said with a shrug. “But I’m running out of options here. Then there’s the possibility that it’s not Robby. Maybe it was his parents who set up cameras in there? Or maybe my stalker beat us to the cabin before we did and installed the cameras.” Frustration bubbled up inside me, mixing with the already toxic oil spill of fear that coated my gut.

I opened the door and stepped inside, thankful to not have a line of trees at my back.

“It makes sense it’s Robby, though. Think about it.” He dropped our bags on the leather couch, hands slipping into the pocket of his sweatpants. “Who was the one that discovered that initial box with the chicken head inside of it? It was him. And it wasn’t put through the postal system, so we thought it might have been hand-delivered. But who would get the address wrong on a package that important? No one. Because all Robby had to do was step outside his door and put the box down and then yell as loud as he could. The windows were open, the blinds were open—I’m sure he saw us inside your house. He knew how to get your attention. He thought you’d be a damsel in distress that night, and he was ready to bring you in. He just wasn’t counting on me being there.”

“What about Franky’s car? And the attempted break-in at your place?”

Jake’s lips quirked to the side. “I don’t know. I’m assuming he was wearing a disguise when he tried to break in, but I don’t know how he was able to use Franky’s car as a getaway car.”

I locked the door and put my back against it. The cabin was warm and cozy, with plenty of thick blankets thrown over armchairs and spilling out of wicker baskets. A fireplace was framed by two tall windows that looked out to the back of the property, lined by trees. There was a small trail of smoothed-over stone that led from the cabin and through the trees. Walking the five minutes down that path took me to one of my favorite spots and one of Blue Ridge’s best-kept secrets.

Maybe that’s what I needed to clear my head. I went to Jake’s side, my hand fitting into his. I tugged him toward the side door. He gave a confused “huh?” as he followed me out into the back porch.



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