Total pages in book: 151
Estimated words: 139186 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 696(@200wpm)___ 557(@250wpm)___ 464(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 139186 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 696(@200wpm)___ 557(@250wpm)___ 464(@300wpm)
Knight raised his hands, still holding his cards, but his game with Joker was momentarily forgotten. “I mean, it’s been days. If I were Beast, I’d be worried. No offense to Laurent, but... he’s from far away. Maybe he doesn’t get cars.”
Vars looked toward Knight, trying very hard not to stare. Jake was on his knees in front of the sofa, Knight’s boot in his lap, so immersed in his work he likely hadn’t even noticed Vars. He was polishing the leather with the dedication of someone whose life depended on the quality of the boot blackening job. It was so fucking hot Vars moved a few steps closer for a better angle. He was still pissed off over Jake’s resolve to completely ignore his presence, but he kept things between them civil to not escalate the conflict.
Elliot sat next to Knight with his long legs across Knight’s lap, as if marking his territory. He’d been reading something to him, and had a plate of sandwiches cut up into neat bite-sized treats so that he could feed them to Knight. Vars didn’t exactly understand the relationship between those two, but Elliot was as dedicated to keeping his man happy as Jake was to keeping all the bikes shining.
“If I was that bad at driving, Knight would probably make me stop,” Elliot said, as if it were a badge of honor.
Knight’s face brightened. He seemed perfectly happy with Elliot advertising how much he’d allow Knight to control his life. “Well, of course not, babes. I want you alive, don’t I? There’s always someone around who could drive you places.”
Elliot shrugged and nuzzled Knight’s cheek. For once, at least he wasn’t naked, but dressed in a sleek black outfit with a tidy shirt and a brocade vest. “Exactly. I don’t understand why Laurent’s so obsessed with it. He’s got everything he needs here.”
Vars made his way around the room, past Nao, who waved at him from behind her drink. He would have assumed it was an invitation if it wasn’t for the fact that they’d established during their first meeting that he wasn’t into women and she “wasn’t into daddies, no offense”.
He stole the practically empty liquor bottle from the shelf next to her and emptied it of the last few gulps as he made his way behind the sofa, watching Jake from the perspective of Knight and Elliot’s heads.
Jake glanced up, and their eyes met. Thunder rolled through the room, sending hot tremors down Vars’s chest. Jake must have felt it too, because he swiftly looked back at Knight’s boot and rubbed it with more vigor.
Joker sat opposite Knight with with his as-of-late girlfriend, Blackstar, who was the gothiest goth who ever gothed. Her white makeup left a dusty shimmer everywhere she went, and she spoke in a soft low whisper that sounded like a lullaby from hell.
Elliot seemed to have made friends with her, and Vars had been witness to the most ridiculous exchange where Elliot had to explain that his eye patch wasn’t a fashion accessory after Blackstar told him one of her ex boyfriends used to wear one to all parties until it had become an element of his persona.
“I became frightened,” Elliot started reading again, in a voice that was probably supposed to imitate the lady who’d written the diaries they’d found in the cellar. Shockingly enough, her skeleton was still in the freaking chair somewhere under their feet, but everyone seemed to have agreed that reporting it to the authorities would be too much hassle. “Roger, a man previously of excellent health and good character, began vomiting violently, causing inconceivable disruption to the household.”
Knight scowled in distaste. “Uh, what a cold bitch! Did you guys hear that? Disruption to the household. Fascinating how times have changed.”
Joker shook his head, showing his cards to Blackstar, who frowned at them, her eyes heavy from the feather-shaped fake eyelashes. “How about you play, huh? Or are you scared of losing to me again?”
Knight hummed and tossed another pair of cards onto a pile on the table while Vars joined the group, sitting down in an empty armchair that offered him the most amazing view on a kneeling Jake. He could swear the boy’s nape got red.
Elliot continued. "But it was when Roger breathed fire for the first time that I realized it wasn't stomach issues that troubled him. Master William must have conferred with the devil yet again, bringing misery upon our poor Roger. I am starting to doubt the choice I’ve made. Good Lord, what have I done?”
Elliot slid even closer to Knight and put his cheek on his man’s shoulder. His gaze got somewhat softer, but all Vars focused on was Jake’s hands slowing down, the polishing cloth sliding down to Jake’s lap.
A man breathing fire. Whatever was happening to Jake, had happened before. Slowly, Vars leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees, not wanting to miss a word.