Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 75720 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 379(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75720 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 379(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
“You’re right,” Robby said, face twisted with a rage-filled grimace. “It is a done deal.”
He lifted the gun. He took aim. His finger twitched on the trigger. My eyes closed.
I wanted to shout and cry and fight and run and fly. Instead, I lurched sideways, pushing into Jake. A gunshot rang out. I fell through the air, landing with a devastatingly sharp pain radiating out through my body. I blinked, I breathed, I was sure I was dead.
But my heart still beat. The sharp pain had come from landing on my bruised ribs against Jake’s chair, now broken and in splinters across the living room floor.
Among the splinters was a gun. Robby’s gun. It had fallen from his hands, sliding to the center of the room. I crawled for it, grabbing it, looking to the left and seeing him crumpled on the floor, a hand pressed against his bleeding shoulder. He cried out a random string of expletives, and only when I heard the door open did the situation start to make sense.
Eric walked in, gun in hand. The window next to the door had been shattered from the gunshot. Behind him was Tristan, already on the phone with the police.
My best friends, my brothers, they were the ones who had saved the day.
“Noah, Jake, fuck, are you two okay?” Eric was towering over a still-whimpering Robby as Tristan helped me and Jake up onto our feet.
“We’re okay, thanks to you guys. Holy shit. Thank you.” I embraced Tristan in a weak side hug before I went to Jake, kissing him on the lips and telling him how much I loved him, how scared I was.
“How’d you guys get here?” I asked, shock still filtering through my system, mixing with relief.
“When you didn’t answer my text about finding out Robby was headed to the mountains, I knew something was up. I called a couple of times, and still nothing, but by then, we were already halfway here. All the lights being on let us see everything. I just needed a clear shot to take.”
“Thank you, both of you,” Jake said, leaning on me as he held his bruised chest. “And thank you, Noah.”
“It’s over,” I said as the police sirens grew louder, drowning out Robby’s grunts and curses. “That’s all that matters. It’s all over. We don’t have to be scared anymore.”
We could finally wake up from this nightmare and embrace the dream that our love had foreshadowed. We were together, we were whole, and we were both ready to put this behind us so we could move toward our happy ever after, shining just over the horizon.
EPILOGUE
Jake Perez
It was date night. My favorite night of the week. Always full of surprises and fun, no matter how many times we did it. We’d been together for a year and a half now, and every date night had somehow been better than the last. They weren’t all extravagant nights out on the town either. A lot of them were staying inside my house, eating home-cooked meals and watching some fun movie before devolving into a tangle of limbs and dick.
Tonight was a night out on the town, though. We were going to a place that had a special place in our relationship: the Atlanta Botanical Gardens. They were having an evening light show for their Spring Nights and Lights at the Garden event. The entire place was supposed to be decked out in colorful and coordinated lights, giving the illusion that all the plants and trees and buildings came alive once the sun went down, shifting and dancing with music that played through invisible speakers.
Just walking through the main entrance took us about ten minutes as we watched the tunnel of twinkling lights ahead of us shift like a living rainbow.
It might have been ten minutes, could have been two.
“How strong was that brownie we had?” I asked Jake as we walked through the tunnel, eyes wide like a pair of kids admiring
“Not too strong,” Noah answered with a giggle, which told me that the brownie was indeed very strong. Both our phones buzzed in unison, drawing our attention to the news alert that had just been pushed out.
“Damn,” Noah said, shaking his head before putting the phone back in his pocket. I did the same, not needing to read any more of the CNN article that had appeared.
“Another killing, and it’s another gay guy. What’s going on?” Noah asked, shaking his head. “The Midnight Chemist is apparently what they’re naming the killer.”
“They’ll find them,” I said, wanting to reassure Noah as much as I wanted to reassure myself. We’d already dealt with one lunatic; why did we have to be scared of another one stalking the streets? Robby had left us both with a lot of shit to deal with, and thankfully, after doing some solo and joint therapy sessions, the two of us had found peace with how the situation unraveled. Noah still remained a little jumpy but was getting better by the day, especially last month, after Robby was sentenced to thirty years in prison for attempted murder and aggravated stalking charges with no chance of parole.