Total pages in book: 171
Estimated words: 159500 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 798(@200wpm)___ 638(@250wpm)___ 532(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 159500 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 798(@200wpm)___ 638(@250wpm)___ 532(@300wpm)
I straighten, not even blinking as I stare him down. “Is this supposed to be a threat, or your idea of flirting? Should I tell Road about this?”
He scowls, but the brief stiffness that initially passed through his features tells me my threat did its job. I’m not happy about needing to hide behind Road either, but being in a precarious situation I am required to give up on a degree of pride.
“Pathetic. You’re gonna run crying to your man over a bit of teasing?” He gathers spit in his mouth, and I’m sure if we weren’t indoors, he’d release it.
Fuck what I’m required to do. Fuck being civil. And fuck Martin.
I punch him in the gut with the jerky still in my fist. I drop the packet when he pushes me at the wall of sweets so hard they fall all around me like a kid’s dream avalanche.
I already hear yelling from the other side of the store, but doing damage is my sole focus right now. I grab Martin’s top and pull him in for a headbutt.
The world shakes as I fall back, trying to make sense of the lamps and shelves around me. I barely have the time to protect myself when Martin dashes my way like a bull about to gore me, but a wet mop swings between us, spraying me with water. Martin makes the stupidest fucking face, pulling back his chin into his neck, as if he worried the water might be toxic, but then the elderly worker of the store pokes me in the chest, adjusting her thick glasses.
“Turner! You will not be doing that in my shop! Get out, both of you!”
I’m still dazed, and when she prods me out of the door, I fall over, embarrassing myself further. Martin is right behind me, still wiping his face, but at least he’s still standing.
“Both of you are banned for a month! I will remember!” the lady yells, supporting her weight on the mop as if it were a crutch. She’s only drawing more attention to this fiasco.
“What the hell’s going on?” Prophet shouts, and Martin responds before I can gather my thoughts.
“He was riling me up!”
I sneer. “You should have stayed the fuck away from me!”
I’m about to drag myself up from the asphalt when strong arms push under my armpits and help me up. I don’t even need to look back to know who it is, because I’d recognize Road’s scent anywhere. I can still sense the cherry tobacco from the pipe he had after breakfast, and only the presence of others keeps me from curling into his chest.
“What’s going on here?”
Martin glares at me. I glare back. I wish I’d punched him harder.
“Nothing,” I say, because yeah, I won’t in fact “go crying to my man” about some bullshit.
Prophet raises his eyebrows. “Let’s go then.”
The other guys whisper, gossiping again, but Road doesn’t leave my side, his hand gliding down my arm to slot in with my fingers. Something about this moment, the safety of feeling his warm skin against mine takes my breath away. I follow his lead all the way to the car. He’s making a point by holding my hand in front of them all.
He’s not letting me go. He’s gay. He’s proud of being with me. So much meaning in that simple gesture.
“I’m driving,” he tells me and opens the passenger door for me.
I don’t even argue this time and get in with a sigh.
“What did he do?” Road asks when he slides into the driver’s seat and buckles up, ready to go.
I groan and roll my eyes as we follow the formation of bikes. “Oh, you know, just talked shit. He was happy to dish it out, but couldn’t handle getting it thrown back at him.”
Road snorts. “Yeah, that does sound like Martin. Sorry I left you on your own.”
“It’s fine. You can’t be my guard dog.” When I stroke his thigh from this side of the car, the ring he gave me is so prominent on my finger it makes me smile.
He groans, clearly unhappy with this. “I know you can hold your own. It’s just that our history with the Butchers makes things difficult,” he says as we drive down the serene road.
I smirk and pat his thigh to lighten the mood. “I can get you a leash and collar if that’s what you’re after.”
His teeth dig into his bottom lip as he tries not to smile. “Is that what you want? To keep me on a leash?”
I stroke the back of his head. “I’d keep you locked away in my shack by the lake if I could get away with it.”
“I can behave. Sometimes. No need to be ashamed of me.”
“You can’t behave if your life depends on it.” I lean in and kiss him on the cheek. “But I love you that way. I might still have my dad’s dog’s muzzle around somewhere at my house if you wanna role play.”