Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 80689 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80689 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
Fortunately, Jonas arrives and helps Morgan to his feet, keeping him back as Forsyth shouts, “Keep my name out of your fucking mouth, you goddamn skyte!”
I’ve never heard Forsyth use the slur against Skyfore, the local cult Morgan was raised in before he was shunned at seventeen. Like me, Morgan keeps the past buried, and Forsyth’s always respected that, so whatever’s happened that led him to use that word, it’s gotta be bad.
Jonas and I share a glance; he’s clearly as thrown as I am by this intense exchange between my typically fun-loving, jokey workhands.
As I’m dealing with Forsyth, I notice he’s got a bloody nose, so I take him back to the house to help him clean it up.
Today’s productivity has been shot.
As he holds some tissue against his nose, I offer a few words about how unacceptable their behavior was. “There’s no reason to be fighting. You know I should call the cops since that was assault and battery.”
Forsyth’s eyes widen. “Please, boss. I can’t get anything else on my record right now.”
“Neither can Morgan, so I don’t know why you had to take things so far. Now, I’ll talk to Morgan and see where he’s at, but if he wants to call the cops, then I’m gonna have to do that. And I’m gonna have to say you instigated it when you shoved him to the ground.”
There’s terror in his expression, his face turning a shade whiter.
“Can you talk to him, Ryan? Tell him I’m sorry?”
“Can you tell me what the fight was over first?”
His fear is quickly replaced with a tense jaw. “I don’t wanna talk about it.”
“Okay, I gathered from what you said outside that you think he was talking about you to people.”
“I know he was talking about me. He brought up something private in town, something only he knew.”
“Did someone say he told them something about you? You know Morgan isn’t much of a talker, right?”
“All I know is, it had to come from him, since I told him something in confidence here, and now people are chatting about it, so you don’t have to be a rocket scientist to put that shit together.”
Goose bumps prick across my flesh. If Forsyth told Morgan something in confidence here, then he doesn’t realize Morgan might not be the one responsible for the information getting out in town. He doesn’t know about Simon. How he has eyes and ears all over this place. How his favorite hobby is mindfucking…something I’ve seen him do to plenty of the staff over the years.
I scold Forsyth some more before chatting with Morgan who, unsurprisingly, also doesn’t want the cops involved. I’m relieved because I can’t afford to lose the guys. If one bolts, Simon would be more than happy to leave me without any extra hands for weeks, months. Enjoying watching me sweat and toil away at the uphill battle that is keeping Hawthorne Heights up and running, knowing I’ll put up with as bad as he can make it—partly because it feels like my responsibility to keep this place alive, partly because I know I deserve to suffer for my sins.
With the scuffle defused, I let Morgan and Forsyth off early. It’s Friday anyway, so I figure they could use a weekend to decompress.
Jonas has let me fuck him right through the week. Now he’s greedy to bottom for me, and I’m eager to please, except tonight I need his dick in my ass to help get out some of the frustration the fight has worked up. It’s been a hell of a week, and between the workload during the day and the heated frenzy of our nights, it’s hard to know how I have the energy to get through it all, but somehow our bodies manage. The hot sun on a rough day isn’t so bad as long as I know that after it sets, it’ll be just as rough a night.
But there’s something else keeping me buoyed, despite the fight. Tomorrow’s the day I take Jonas on a date, and I’m not letting Morgan and Forsyth—or even Simon—get to me.
The following day, around lunchtime, Jonas and I meet in the kitchen and pack some food in my backpack—chips, some chili from a few days earlier, the sandwiches I asked Nell to make. We grab drinks from the fridge, then head on our way. I guide Jonas along the path in the woods. Every time I glance back at him, I see the curiosity in his wandering gaze, which reminds me of the expressions he made before I enjoyed his virgin ass.
I lead him off-trail, deeper into the woods, until we come to my familiar spot. It’s a magical place for me—a sanctuary. The stretch of briars goes on for half an acre, enclosed in the woods.
“Um…is this a good idea?”