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)
His brain was a boiling pot of disbelief as he pushed his palms against his mouth, attempting to keep the flames in, but when the fire licked his skin, there was pleasant warmth, without even a hint of pain.
The taste of sulphur on his tongue reminded him of that time Knight had dared him to put out a match in his mouth, but even with the entire stall smelling like fireworks, Jake’s head was clearer than it had been for a while. The pressure that had been building up inside his gullet all night and morning was now gone, as if the torching fire he’d released had been the cause all along.
He stared at the toilet bowl, only now noticing in the corner of his eye that the heat had caused one of the white tiles to crack. His brain was a mess soaked in liquor he hadn’t drunk, but as much as he wished to dismiss what had just happened as a hallucination, that wouldn’t make the toilet seat return to its former state.
What. The. Hell. Was. Happening?
He got up, but then the burn came back, and he coughed once more, sending sparks toward the toilet paper that went up in flames.
“No!” Jake yelped and grabbed it in panic, sending it straight into the toilet where it hissed and released smoke, but at least he’d put out the fire.
Once more, Jake looked to his hands. Not a hint of redness where he’d just handled a burning item. He took one more glance into the toilet to make sure his eyes hadn’t played a trick on him, but there was no denying the half-burnt roll was there, still floating in the bowl and soaking up more water.
With a sneer, he rushed out of the stall to drink from the faucet and ease the discomfort in his throat, but as soon as the cool liquid went down, he pulled out his phone. Cleaning would have to wait.
He opened a web browser and typed in ‘Why do I choke up fire?’.
The Internet wasn’t of much help, as it came up with only a handful of results, and none of them seemed even remotely connected to Jake’s actual issue. Frustrated, he rested his back against the wall and slid down, letting his body absorb the cool air. After days of constant discomfort, it felt odd not to have any pain on the stretch between his throat and stomach, but the cause of it was too bizarre to consider seriously. In fact, he was still on the fence as to whether he hadn’t dreamt the whole thing.
He pressed his fingernails into his palm so hard it started hurting, but nothing changed, and the smell of burnt paper and plastic was still thick in the air. What if he really had contracted some long-forgotten illness? Or worse, what if that bat-like creature hadn’t been a product of his imagination, and it was some sort of Alien facehugger type deal? Soon enough, it would come out through his rib cage, spilling Jake’s guts all over the clean floor.
Cringing in his spot by the leaking sink that hadn’t been repaired since Beast and Knight damaged it during a fight, Jake wasn’t prepared for someone coming in, but that was exactly what happened. And of course, Jake got up so rapidly he managed to hit his head on the damn thing in the process.
Knight opened his lips to speak, but the frown on his face and the way he loudly whiffed the air sank Jake deeper into the abyss.
“What’s that smell?” Knight asked, pushing back his tousled mane of hair.
For a moment, Jake forgot how to speak, overwhelmed by how glorious Knight looked. His heavy boots left mud on the floor, but Jake couldn’t blame him for it, instead thinking back to how he’d polished them yesterday. If only Knight let him, Jake would also gladly polish Knight’s dick, but that wouldn’t be happening any time soon with Elliot hovering around Knight like a cockroach around a donut.
“It’s just… It was Troy. You know him, right? He left some stupid firework in there or something. Melted half the toilet seat.”
Knight rolled his eyes. “Jesus fucking Christ. Get him in line, will you? That idiot’s gonna burn the whole place down next time.”
“I know, right? Fucking pyromaniac. Gotta tell Lizzy not to let the guy do any special effects during the next concert. Is Mr. Magpie here yet?” Jake asked, eager to change the topic.
Knight snapped his fingers and smiled in a way that offered Jake a little bit of hope for the future. “Right. That’s why I was looking for you. He’s close. We want you to wait for them at the gate and lead them all the way to the clubhouse. Jump on your bike and go.”
Jake loved the sense of purpose that came with every order from a patch. They gave his life meaning, transforming it from the slow existence of a regular young man in a sleepy town like Brecon. “Got it! I’ve cleared the snow off the road in the morning, so driving up to the clubhouse shouldn’t be a problem no matter what car he’s come in.” There. That was how good of a prospect he was when Elliot, the lazy fucker, was most likely still sleeping. Or eating. Skinny as a scarecrow, even though he was always stuffing his face. Jake couldn’t understand what someone as hot as Knight saw in him.