Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 116220 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 581(@200wpm)___ 465(@250wpm)___ 387(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116220 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 581(@200wpm)___ 465(@250wpm)___ 387(@300wpm)
Tristan finds his spot. Teeth make contact.
One pinch of pain, barely a nip, then a flood of pleasure.
Every drop of pleasure, a hundred times more.
The groan that emits from Kyle is a sound he has never heard, a sound he’s never made. Is that the real Kyle emerging, the one that’s been imprisoned his whole life?
Crackling energy rockets through his body, out of control.
His wild eyes dart everywhere. To the moon, every detail in sharp focus, as if it’s within reach. To a tree far away, where a spider wraps a snack, each squeak of silk audible. To that tiny ant on the leaf, far away, still grooming itself to perfection.
You will always be human, thrumming with life, never forget this, always.
“I’m so close … T-Tristan …”
Your life will mean something, Kyle. You are going to change the world, this terrible world we live in. You will save all of us.
“Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”
You are my purpose, it was always you. Stay alive, Kyle. Promise me you will never stop chasing your dreams, you will never die.
Teeth are traded for tongue as Kyle lets go inside Tristan’s mouth. Every drop that spills from Kyle, blood, sweat, and come, Tristan eagerly consumes. Kyle’s fingers squeeze in his hair, tears of elation hanging from his eyes and cheeks.
All his pressure, relieved.
All his nightmares, all his worries, gone.
Every last bit of everything that was Kyle Amos.
Soon, among the trees, under a night sky that has started to swell a threatening blue as morning approaches, the boys rest side by side, Kyle’s head in Tristan’s lap, a happy, lazy smile stretching over his face.
The world is slowly waking up around them.
Even the urgent matter of finding somewhere to stay seems far away, unimportant.
Everything in its own time.
Promise me, no matter what direction our new life together takes, no matter what monsters face us, even our own, we must keep each other human. Tristan’s fingers play in Kyle’s hair, eyes upon the dark blue sky, whatever sliver remains of their night. Stay as human as you can. For as long as you can. You deserve everything under the sun, and even then, it wouldn’t be enough.
27 Years Later.
8.
Nowhere.
—∙—
Kyle takes a rag to wipe down the last table, drops of liquor, granules of salt, a smear of queso.
Returns the bowls of nuts to the back of the bar, empties the bin of half-melted ice, washes it down.
Faces each bottle of liquor on the upper shelves properly.
Same with the bottom shelves. And the wine.
Takes a peek at the time hanging on the wall, it’s the same as always, half past two. He yawns, rubs at a smudge on his arm, unsure where it came from, doesn’t care. Nothing requires his full attention. All the same, like any other night.
“Close again tomorrow?” asks Leland, the blue-eyed, baby-faced cook, peeling off his apron. Kyle nods. The cook yawns, then sees himself out, back door shutting softly behind him.
Kyle heads to the jukebox, still playing, and reaches behind to turn it off.
“Wait, I like this one.”
The bar manager is at her office door, long tight braids of hair swept down her left shoulder, snake tattoo curling up the right side of her neck, her deep mahogany skin aglow under the nearby light. She’s in a pair of jeans and a loose yellow tank top tonight, notebook clutched in her hand, as she closes her eyes and tilts her head, relishing the sweet and gentle song, a wistful smile on her face.
When it ends, she lets out a sigh. “Mmm, that hits right.”
“Can I switch it off now, ma’am?”
She pops her eyes open and frowns. “You’ve been here half a year already and still can’t call me by my name?”
“Sorry, Cadence.”
“Cade. Only Gran called me Cadence, and she only called me that when I did something bad. Also, she’s no longer with us, God rest her soul.”
Kyle studies her. For a woman who is so sincere and to-the-point, he can’t help but sense a cloud of mystery about her, like she holds back as much as she reveals. He’s never pried. He just keeps his head low, comes in to work, does his job. His own secrets are no one’s business. Cade deserves her own.
He switches off the jukebox. “Are you good for the night?”
Cade studies him for a moment, peeved. “You’re not a man of many words, are you, Henry?”
Kyle takes that for his answer, offers a mild nod, then taps on the terminal by the kitchen door to clock out. Cade watches him as he slips out the back door.
It’s a quiet Wednesday night. Just the dry Arizona air and Kyle, the streets of downtown, empty. Not that there are many streets—or people in this small desert town to occupy them. All the lights are shut off, all the doors closed, barred up, silent.