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)
Jake’s chest exploded with pain. The goo was growing thicker, sticky as glue. It was about to block Jake’s airways when Vars rushed back to the window and swung something large at it.
The sound of breaking glass cut into Jake’s ears right before they too overflowed. All and any sounds came to him dulled down, as if they originated on the surface of the water while he remained submerged.
Out of nowhere, strong arms grabbed him, but Jake could barely feel their touch, as if second skin had grown all over him. His body was getting entangled in seaweed, drowning in the monster inside and out.
Jake shook violently as the world shifted around him. Briefly, gravity ceased to exist, and he was trapped in a cocoon until something hit his back. Soft and cool, like fresh bedding on a winter evening.
Above him, the shadow man moved fast. Each time he swung his body from one side to another, icy mousse was lathered over Jake, covering him like the fluffiest, most pleasant of blankets.
He was no longer in pain.
Ice cold air tore into his throat and he gasped, about to cry with joy that he was able to breathe again. He looked up straight into the bright, clouded sky, only to have Vars’s face obscure it seconds later. Jake reached up and pulled Vars close, for a hug he so desperately needed.
“Maybe let’s get that collar. Just in case,” he whined, half-submerged in snow. What would he do otherwise once spring came?
Chapter 12 - Vars
The Brecon Town Museum wasn’t the MET.
Located in a large colonial house in the middle of the sleepy town, it was well-kept yet underfunded, and likely not protected from theft by anything other than the locks on the doors. Breaking in would be a walk in the park.
With the black goo growing in strength within Jake’s body, Vars decided there was no time to waste, and despite Jake’s misgivings, they drove out of the clubhouse in the middle of the night on the same day. In an effort to be as anonymous as possible, they took one of the club-owned cars instead of their bikes, and parked it in a narrow residential street close to a small park at the back of the museum.
Getting through the fence didn’t pose any issues either, and soon enough Vars found himself landing in deep snow between sprouting evergreens. Jake was right behind him, and it was pure pleasure to use the excuse of saving him from a fall to grab him.
For the briefest moment Vars stood still among the carefully shaped bushes, his hands on Jake, eyes on his skin, which seemed rosy even in the faint light. His instinct had been to reach for the boy from the start, but when it had transformed into the visceral need to keep him safe, to spend time with him and have Jake submit to Vars every day—he had no idea.
“Elliot showed me photos of that collar. I’ll recognize it, no problem,” Jake whispered with steam coming out of his mouth. Tender, protective feelings washed over Vars when he remembered those pretty pink lips drowned in thick, black goo that tried to take Jake away, transform him into something else.
Vars lingered with his hands touching Jake, and for the longest moment Jake didn’t move either, both of them standing still in the silent garden, like two statues not yet covered by snow. Jake’s winter jacket was so soft he looked more like a snowman than a biker.
“It’s so quiet. They won’t have any security at this place, will they?”
“Nah. They only have one camera, and that’s at the front entrance. I guess nobody suspects people would be willing to break into a place like this,” Jake said, finally pulling away. But his eyes were full of silent questions when they briefly glanced into Vars’s.
Vars raised his brows in silence and pulled up the collar, to obscure his face just in case. They also both wore gloves, to avoid leaving their fingerprints everywhere. “What?”
“What-what?”
“You’re staring,” Vars said, not without satisfaction, and moved forward, walking off the lawn and onto the tile-lined path.
Jake followed him like a good puppy, and it made Vars smile. “Looking, not staring.”
“Really? Do I have something in my face?” Vars asked, making his way past a fountain and toward the dark silhouette of the building at the end of the path. In town, there was light in some windows, but beyond the tall fence around the museum, it felt like they were the last people left in a world of ice.
Jake groaned but kept his voice down, looking around the dark bushes. “You’ve got to make it hard for me, don’t you? Okay, so you’re handsome. So I looked. Big fucking deal.”
Vars grinned, breathing in the cold air. “Happy to hear I’m not the only one staring.”