Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 119011 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 595(@200wpm)___ 476(@250wpm)___ 397(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 119011 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 595(@200wpm)___ 476(@250wpm)___ 397(@300wpm)
Anders stepped away from Leo with an awkward pat to his back. They all knew he was in the Smoke Valley MC, but Zolt had hammered the threat home in a way the patches on Leo’s vest didn’t.
“Yeah, we’re all a bit drunk. Go on, I’ll have a look at it for you,” Sidell proposed, rubbing Neil’s shoulder.
“So fucking provoked,” Leo snarled beneath his breath as Neil passed him without a word. But despite all the conflicting emotions gnawing at his insides, Leo hated it when Zolt looked at him in warning. As if he really was that rabid dog needed to be put down.
Seconds passed in silence before Zolt rubbed his short hair and sighed. “I think the atmosphere isn't there anymore. Let’s call it a night.”
Neil pressed his bloodied lips together. “What about me?”
“Just wash your face. You haven’t fainted, and you can speak. Just use some ice on that face once you get home,” Zolt said, refusing to acknowledge Leo with his gaze.
Anders gave a deep exhale and inched farther away from Leo. For someone so bigmouthed about being a Dominant, he seemed awfully non-confrontational. “Yeah, makes sense to finish up. Neil’s face is distracting,” he tried to joke, but no one laughed.
Leo just shook his head and entered the apartment, choosing to ignore them all. He’d be checking out that green notebook. If Neil had told him the truth, Leo would—he had no idea what he’d do.
It would have hurt less if Zolt had forced a thick, rusty nail into his heart, because then Leo could either suffer through gangrene or rip it out and die of blood loss. As things were, he was condemned to watching his new life crumble.
He headed straight to the bedroom, and the smell of unfamiliar cologne hanging in the air only agitated him further. He didn’t look at the smoke still swirling close to the kitchen, or at the fallen chair Sidell must have abruptly left to come to Neil’s aid. He opened the bottom drawer as soon as he reached Zolt’s nightstand.
The green notebook stared back at him, its color as poisonous as the contents might have been, but if this item was to put an end to Leo’s torment, he was ready to suffer the immediate consequences.
He sat on the bed and started flipping through the pages, revealing content that had Leo’s bones chilling and his heart congesting with despair. On his way here, he still hoped Neil had been lying and that it really was a list of new or interesting pawn shop inventory, like Zolt had claimed.
But no. Page after page, the journal described men, listed their names, their jobs, and included information about their sexuality and Zolt’s intimate encounters with them.
Mercury drizzled through Leo’s arteries, poisoning him even before he dared to open the notebook at the bookmark. His heart thumped with relief when he realized there wasn’t an entry for this day yet, but the explicit yet impersonal description of the sex he and Zolt had the night before—a slow sixty-nine, which finished with Zolt coming on Leo’s lips and chin—had been like a stab with a hot poker. No. Like a slow pressure descending mercilessly on Leo’s chest until it would squeeze out his insides.
He worked his way back through the notebook, hot, cold, and nauseated all at once. Zolt had made a note after their first ever kiss that Leo was pliant and up for it. That he just needed coaxing. Humiliation washed over him like an icy wave, making it hard to read on. He didn’t know if he wanted to.
Had Zolt shared all this stuff with Neil?
Did they compare techniques of seducing straight guys? What the fuck? Why would anyone be this cruel? As if the men Zolt met were human Rubik's cubes, and he needed to know the right combination of moves to solve each one and get his way. Leo wasn't special. To Zolt, no one was.
Or maybe this was a sport to him, and the notebook—a way to track improvement in performance.
“What are you doing?” Zolt asked, and Leo only then noticed his feet just beyond the threshold of the bedroom.
Leo got up, far too overwhelmed to have a normal conversation about this. His body was numb, and the sense of betrayal turned into a rock in his throat and threatened to choke him. “Do you fuck Neil?”
“What?” Zolt took an exasperated breath and stepped closer. “Give that back.”
“No! How does Neil know about this?” Leo shook the notebook in his hand. “You share this with them?” Just thinking about it made him sick.
Zolt’s neck was so stiff it seemed like the muscles and tendons might snap under his skin at any moment, but he didn’t lunge at Leo or try to bargain for the notebook. Maybe he understood the damage had already been done. “I told him nothing about you.”