Total pages in book: 126
Estimated words: 129881 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 649(@200wpm)___ 520(@250wpm)___ 433(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129881 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 649(@200wpm)___ 520(@250wpm)___ 433(@300wpm)
“You don’t ever touch him, you hear me!” he roars, swinging and landing a punch to this asshole’s cheek.
The douchebag staggers back a step, then finally lets go of his ugly dick to grab at Felix’s hoodie.
He yanks him close, and his fist connects with the side of his face, causing Felix to grunt in pain, and when the bastard cocks his arm back to land another blow, I stop him by punching his side and nailing him in the ribs.
He winces and whines, and I hit him again in the same spot, this time causing him to buckle forward.
Felix wrenches out of his grip, and I get in front of the guy and fist his crew neck at the shoulder. And with a swift punch, I hit him square in the nose.
“Argh!” he yells, dropping to his knees. Blood pours out of his face.
“Sick fuck.” I spit on the guy, then I look over at Felix.
He’s panting now and his lip is bleeding. He wipes his hand across his mouth, smearing blood. “Shit,” he whispers.
“I’m calling the cops,” the guy threatens, his voice muffled by the hands covering his face.
“We should go,” Felix says, and now he looks panicked.
And I can’t help but laugh.
“What the fuck,” I say. “You and your public restroom kink.”
Felix is laughing now too.
I grab the arm of his hoodie and tug him over to me. “Come here.” I cup his reddening cheek.
And Felix smiles as I lower my mouth to his.
Our kiss tastes metallic and only lasts a couple seconds, because the shithead starts getting up and mumbling about pressing charges, and I have a rehab to get to, so…
I grab Felix’s hand and we rush out of the bathroom and sprint through the store, both of us laughing still because of course this happens to us, and when we push our way outside, my brother climbs halfway out of the truck to yell across the lot.
“What the hell! I was about to come in there.” His eyes narrow as we approach. “Are you both bleeding?”
“We need to go!” Felix shouts.
“He’s right. Get in the truck,” I add, throwing open the passenger door. I climb in behind Felix, pushing him over to make some room.
“What the fuck happened?” CJ asks.
The asshole stumbles outside and frantically scans the lot, and his fucking pants are still undone.
“Gross,” Felix mutters.
“What the fuck, Jake.” My brother leans forward and glares at me.
“What?” I feign innocence. “I swear to God, he started it.”
“What happened?”
“Can we just go? I’ll explain once you get us out of here.”
CJ (finally) pulls away from the pump and drives us out of the lot while I grab a few napkins out of the glove compartment.
I hand a couple to Felix, and we both hold them against our bleeding mouths.
And then we’re back on the highway and Felix is quietly laughing next to me, and when I look over at him, he smiles with blood on his teeth.
I drop my head against his and we crack up together.
“You know what? I don’t even want to know anymore,” my brother says. And he’s laughing now too. “Jesus, Jake. Let’s just get you to rehab.”
I can’t stop smiling now.
That sounds really good to me.
We finally arrive at Tennessee Addiction and Recovery Center, and even though I felt great the rest of the drive (despite the pain in my face), my mood sinks and there’s nothing I can do about it.
Time’s up.
I think this goodbye is going to be the hardest of my life.
My lungs seem to shrink as I climb out of the truck, preventing me from taking a full breath.
I can’t look at Felix or my brother yet and avoid them to grab my duffel out of the compartment CJ stored in it before moving around to the front of the truck.
I stand there alone and stare at the entrance I’m about to walk through. A gust of wind stings my face.
“Jake,” Felix says at my back.
I close my eyes against the threat of tears, then I turn around to look at him.
His beanie is back on, pulled low so his curls peek out around his face. And he’s biting the side of his lip that isn’t swollen and trying so hard not to cry.
He shakes his head and holds up the gift bag between us, as if anything in there could distract us from what’s about to happen.
“Ready for your surprise?” he asks, and he sounds so fucking miserable.
I set my duffel down and take the bag from him, and I reach inside without looking.
My hand closes around soft, chunky fabric.
I pull out a beanie.
It’s knitted (crocheted) and the same blue as CJ’s scarf.
And I look at Felix and smile.
He shrugs and wipes a tear off his cheek. “I know jack shit about the weather here, but I didn’t want your head to get cold,” he says.