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)
He could’ve cried with joy at the lazy bastard who’d left his clothes hanging outside throughout the night, because as soon as he stole a pair of shorts and an oversized T-shirt from someone’s backyard, Clover moved a few houses down. He spotted his reflection in a window, and the bruises on his face would worry any ordinary citizen, but at least he wasn’t naked, and his wounds were hidden under fabric.
The town would soon come back to life, so if he wanted to sneak into someone’s house to use their phone, he needed to do so quickly.
The clothes gave him a sense of anonymity, but he still felt uneasy creeping into properties. If confronted, at least he was armed.
But all thoughts died when he jumped through the next fence, only to see a back door open.
Could this be real?
Clover was stiff with worry, but one glance at the rising sun was enough to remind him of the passing time, and he peeked inside.
A long-haired guy looked at him from above a large bong. Clover’s brain dimmed at the edged as he searched for things to say when the stranger smiled. “Hey there!”
Encouraged by the lack of pushback, Clover entered the weed-infused den, only now noticing two other guys sleeping curled up on a huge gray sofa. “Hi. C-can I use your phone?”
The guy squinted at Clover. “Only if you don’t eat all our pizza.”
Clover glanced at the three boxes with barely five slices left between them. “Err… okay. Phone?”
The man laughed and pointed at Clover. “You drive a hard bargain.”
Clover could scream in frustration but walked up to the stoner when the guy held out his phone. He looked at the keypad, and his brain slowed down in panic. Did he even know Tank’s numbed by heart? He was almost sure he did, but how could he be certain if he always used speed dial to contact him anyway?
So he stood there, in the middle of a stoner party and chose the numbers he thought were correct before breathlessly listening to the signal on the other side of the line.
His entire body was a bundle of pain and worry, but when he heard Tank’s voice, the relief his him so hard he had to lean against the wall for support.
“T-Tank? I need you.”
Chapter 15 – Tank
The loud ringing of a phone tore Tank out of sleep, but he didn’t hesitate and patted the nightstand until he found the phone and picked up the call. “Yeah?”
“Tank? I need you.”
Tank frowned, his eyes still closed. Was this Clover’s idea of making up? Calling at five in the morning? Because Tank naturally woke up around six, so it had to be earlier than that.
“Tank? Are you there?” Clover’s voice shook and broke by the end of the question, making Tank’s alertness go from zero to a hundred within a split second.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, sitting up to take in the first signs of daylight at the edges of the curtains. He didn’t know what was wrong yet, but he rolled out of bed and went straight for the clothes he’d laid out last night.
“I… I’m so sorry. We-we did something stupid. You need to come here right now. Drake is in danger, and they’re taking Boar somewhere.”
And just like that, Tank knew exactly what had happened while he’d been asleep, unaware that his friends had broken last night’s agreement and had gone off to deal with Apollo. His heart rattled so hard thinking was close to impossible, but he started putting on his jeans.
“Where are you?
Clover gave him an address in that same shaky tone. Tank knew the area well. Clover’s location was only ten minutes away by car—at least some good news to lessen the bitterness of this morning. “Stay put. We’re coming,” he said before putting on his T-shirt and switching off the phone. He had no idea what Boar had to do with all this, since he wasn’t the type of guy to go rogue on Tank, but he supposed Clover’s pretty lips might have had something to do with his involvement.
But there was no time to think about any of this. During a recovery mission, it was best to act first and ask questions later.
He stepped out of his room and flinched at the sight of a shadow at the end of the corridor. His gun was in his hand before he even thought about it.
“It’s me!” Pyro raised his hands, his gaze still groggy. “What are you doing? Have you seen Boar?”
Tank’s chest hollowed, but he was glad to see Pyro already dressed. “They’ve gone after Apollo. Get your gear, now,” he whispered, wary of his grandmother sleeping nearby.
“Shit,” was the last thing he heard before he dove back into the guest room. Most necessities were in the car, but the guns? He always kept them close.