Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 71852 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 359(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71852 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 359(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
Drake smirked and briefly squeezed Clover’s thigh. “Yep. Home sweet home, right?” he said before pulling into a small parking lot in front of a Thai restaurant that must have gone out of business. The other car was already there, and Clover snorted when he saw the sandwich plate on its roof, half-emptied already.
Clover shook his head. “Yeah, right. Home sweet hell more like.” He gave Drake a quick kiss on the cheek and faced away from him with his stomach grumbling and dying to be filled.
“Are you all right?” Drake asked when Clover touched the door handle.
“Yeah, just hungry. You guys can stop checking on me, I’ll handle whatever’s coming.”
He was sweaty by the time Drake squeezed his hand, never looking away from Clover’s eyes. His own seemed even darker than usual when he nodded. “But it can be hard. You can say if you need to tap out at some point.”
Clover tried to smile but couldn’t force himself to. “You know my safeword’s ‘chicken’.”
Drake snorted, but he leaned in and gave him the softest kiss that tasted of soda and nicotine. “Go get him, chicken,” he said and left the car.
Drake didn’t like to eat before a job and had cigarettes instead, so Clover was the lucky guy to snag the last two sandwiches. He ate them, pretending there was no weird silence between him and Tank. At least Pyro and Boar didn’t seem to notice.
“How do we do this? Are we taking him to a remote location?” Pyro rubbed his hands and stared at Tank, waiting for a plan to follow.
“Huh?” Tank frowned, as if the question had pulled him out of his thoughts. He also wasn’t in a very talkative mood. Served him right. “I… maybe. Is there anywhere discreet to park next to that bastard’s place?” he asked, acknowledging Clover for the first time since they’d arrived.
Clover stilled when all eyes focused on him. He loved it in sex, but right now the attention made him feel inadequate, as if he was about to prove that Tank was right, and that he couldn’t handle shit.
“Y-yes. The alley behind the house is kinda private. I doubt anyone would consider taking down the licence plates or something. I’ll show you,” he said and focused his attention on his second sandwich, which tasted suspiciously like last night’s prawn cocktail.
“Clover? It is you! Oh, my God! Where have you been?” A male voice yelled from the other side of the street and Clover froze in disbelief.
He had to squint against the sunshine, since even his shades weren’t helping, but when the guy crossed the street, heading their way, recognition kicked in. Ren had grown a bit since they’d last seen each other, but he was still a twig. His black hair had gotten longer, but other than that, he was still the same fresh-faced and bubbly boy. Now sixteen, he’d joined their crew not long before Clover had been sold.
Clover had often wondered what had become of him, but when he spotted a large paper bag with the ‘Jack’s Burgers’ logo printed on one side in Ren’s hand, it became obvious he was still working with Jerry. It used to be Clover’s job to get their boss his Friday treat, and like clockwork, it had been at 10 a.m., as soon as the burger place opened. Clover had been gone for over a year yet nothing had changed in this hole of parched despair. As if Clover had passed through Jerry’s house without leaving a mark. He shouldn’t have been upset about this, but he was.
Clover glanced at his friends, whose stances created a nervous atmosphere, but Ren approached without a care in the world and put the bag with food on the hood of their car so that he could hug Clover. A year ago, Clover wouldn’t have heard Drake’s voice at the back of his mind saying: watch out, he could have a knife on him, but now that internal warning made him stiffen rapidly enough to alert Ren.
“Are you okay, Clo?” he asked, his lips pursing as he leaned back before turning his attention to the other guys. “Hi? Are you... friends?”
“Y-yeah, I’m good. Sorry, we’re in a rush. I’m guessing Jerry’s in?”
Ren shrugged and patted Clover’s bicep. “Who cares about Jerry? Look at you! All buff and shit.”
Clover just stared, dumbstruck. “Me? What? Hardly.” But regardless of his initial reaction, he’d definitely become stronger, fitter since Ren had last seen him, and even if he wasn’t trying to build Tank-like muscles, his body had become sturdier. There was no point comparing himself to older men who’d been professional mercenaries for years.
Pyro laughed and prodded Clover with his index finger. “So modest. Does two hundred push-ups and doesn’t even break a sweat.”
Ren’s mouth opened in awe. “Did you, like, win the lottery and bailed on us all?”