Total pages in book: 143
Estimated words: 132512 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 663(@200wpm)___ 530(@250wpm)___ 442(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132512 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 663(@200wpm)___ 530(@250wpm)___ 442(@300wpm)
Cole dragged his hand down his face. This was the negative side of having a partner. There were always expectations, and when those weren’t met—bitterness. But lone survival was no easy feat, and Ned’s mind was the perfect example of what solitude could do to a man over the years.
He rested his hands on his hips and faced the pantry, which yet again emitted a howl that finished in a bone-melting shriek. “No, no, no, don’t come any closer!”
Were there rats in the pantry? Cole hadn’t seen any in the house, but it was time to make sure their captive wasn’t bleeding out from bites.
Opening the dark room was like stepping into the cold outside. Its ceiling hung low over Cole’s head, as if it were about to drop and squash him, and for the blink of an eye he was again the twelve-year-old boy who’d found another child hiding in the cupboard—in this very pantry. His throat tightened with emotion as he lifted the kerosene lamp he was holding, looking for a sign of Ned but only saw the source of a sickly, acidic odor hanging in the air—a bucket they’d left for him to use as a latrine.
The warm glow licked the floor, but their captive was only revealed once Cole’s gaze slid to the very end of the interior where two legs stuck out from between the cupboard’s open doors.
The lamplight caught Ned’s shining eyes, and he grabbed the wooden panels, attempting to shut them, as if he couldn’t see that he’d never fit his large form someplace this small. Still, like a slug that had long outgrown its shell, Ned wouldn’t stop trying, no matter how violently his limbs shook from the cold.
“Why am I still here?” Ned whined, clutching the old doors for dear life, but when Cole left the lamp on a side table by the entrance and opened the cupboard, their captive didn’t fight him—a grown man reduced to a shivering mess. Damp streaks on Ned’s cheeks reflected the light as his green eyes widened, and he tried to pull up his legs to crawl into the narrow space that already made him bend into a hunched form. His breath wheezed between clattering teeth, and he made a sharp gesture toward the open door.
“Behind you! He’s behind you!”
Cole looked back, certain Lars had crept up on him to see what Ned was up to, but his friend still sat in the chair by the fire, and there was nothing behind Cole but air.
A dull pulsing awoke in Cole’s temples as he faced Ned again, stepping into the room, which now felt as cold as any food storage should. “What do you see?”
“The man. He’s still there,” Ned babbled attempting to hide his face. “If I only… hide in here…”
There was no way in hell he’d fit in the cupboard, but it seemed that Ned had lost the ability to think straight after Cole and Lars stopped feeding him liquor.
Back when Cole had still ridden with the Gotham boys, Tom had tied Scotch to the wheel of a wagon in an effort to curb his addiction. Unable to fetch himself a bottle, Scotch had temporarily lost his mind and claimed he was being attacked by swarms of mice. No one else had seen a thing, but the old bastard’s fear had been as real as the air he breathed.
The things Ned was seeing seemed even viler in nature, and no matter how much resentment Cole held for him, memories of their time together triggered tender feelings. This was still the same man Cole had once planned a future with, and seeing him so frantic and dirty, hurt the scrap of humanity Cole still had left in him.
“There’s no one here but you, me, and Lars. You’re seeing things because you stopped drinking. It’ll pass.”
“It won’t pass, he’ll always be here,” Ned sobbed and rubbed his face against his forearm, shaking like a dry leaf about to fall off a tree.
“You were supposed to make him shut up!” Lars yelled from the main room, but as Cole’s eyes became more used to darkness, he took in the pathetic way Ned cowered under a thin blanket that made up his protection from the cold already taking hold of his body.
If he stayed there, he’d inevitably develop pneumonia. Or freeze to death. Such things weren’t unheard of.
“Ned, come here,” he whispered as loudly as his tightened throat allowed
“Can’t leave. I was told to stay.” Ned shook his head without looking up. He seemed both stronger than he used to be and more fragile. Abusing him now would have been like torturing a wolf that had just lost two of its legs and was already bleeding.
But no matter how solid Ned’s muscles seemed under grubby clothes, Cole was strong too, and nothing would stop him once he made up his mind. The part of him that recoiled in sadness when he grabbed Ned’s fingers and found them cold as icicles? He ignored it and stared at the shadowed face while his heart rattled with unexpected tenderness. “I’m telling you, you can. Come on. Let’s get you warm.”