Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 81279 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 406(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81279 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 406(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
Since we’ve moved in together, I’ve been learning all about his little quirks. He won’t go to bed before checking every door and window twice, he loves the big fireplace, and sitting outside under several blankets on a crisp, cold morning. He’s still a bit skittish, so I make sure to walk around loudly because I don't want to scare him. His scars are ticklish, and on days when his knee hurts, a hot bath helps.
We butt heads about how to do things around the house as I’m a bit more particular, but he’s very pliant in bed, a bit shy even, despite clearly enjoying both the dirty talk and getting fucked hard. He struggles to fall asleep, but not after he comes.
He doesn’t abuse my generosity, even though I would get him anything he wants. At the store, he chose the same kind of shampoo he used before, and forced me to shop in the discount aisle for generic products. I still treated him to the best steak with fries I made myself out of russet potatoes, and he appreciated my effort.
Last night, he fell asleep against me while we were watching a movie, and I just sat there, admiring him and stroking his face. I didn’t have the heart to wake him up, so I stayed put with my arm slowly dying until he woke up to empty his bladder.
We work so well together it feels as if we’ve known each other for ages, and in an ideal world, I’d be spending a lazy afternoon with him, walking through the woods around the rented cabin, cuddling, then fucking on the floor in front of the fire.
Instead, we’re watching a church.
This whole revenge thing could be dealt with so much quicker if I did it myself, as usual, but I need to be patient if I’m to honor his wishes and teach him my trade. But that doesn’t make me any less bored.
“We could easily snipe him from there,” I say, pointing to the roof of the 1930s-style building with a pharmacy on the first floor and balconies on the two floors above it.
“No. He wouldn’t know what happened. I need to look into his eyes. He deserves pain and fear.”
I sigh and glance back at the church. Its walls are white and the tall turret at the front has a sharp, conical rooftop making it resemble a rocket about to launch into space on this crisp, cloudless afternoon. Being here makes me feel like I’m some old-timey gent with a revolver, trying to hunt down the man who murdered my own family, but the smell of gas is killing the illusion.
Rowan’s right though. If I had the opportunity to take revenge on my parents’ killers? I’d want them to suffer for hours and endure double the pain and fear they inflicted. I’m sure my uncle gave them hell, but I wish I had been there.
I take a chunk of the apple cake I made yesterday and bite into it. “It will take a while until the service is over. We don’t need to stay so quiet.”
“Does it get any easier? You’re so chill about all this, and I feel the cops are already onto me.”
Rowan takes a piece of cake for himself, and I love to watch him eat my food. It’s yet another way in which he accepts me. I take pleasure watching him wear my scarf for the same reason. He didn’t even ask if he could keep it, a cute kind of entitlement. The scarf is there around his neck when my hands can’t be.
I sigh when the sugary taste spreads on my tongue like a promise of sweet love later. I’m romantic like that.
“Yes. The first time I saw my uncle kill, I nearly pissed myself, but if I can skin a rabbit, why not do the same with a bad man, you know?” I shrug, watching him. “There’s an art to avoiding the cops’ attention though. I’ll teach you.”
“I… don’t know if it’s even possible for me to be as proficient as you when it comes to the physical side. Because of the knee.” He takes a big bite of cake, but his expression gets gloomy. “But I’m a really good shot. And I’m good at seeming all innocent if I need to.”
I nod and put my hand on his, squeezing it gently. There aren’t many people about, no one who can see us touching like this, so I don’t worry about attracting attention.
Damn, he’s so perfect.
“Being a team doesn’t mean we both need to have the same job. I need a lookout, a sniper, someone who’ll patch me up on the rare occasion I get hurt. Or watch me sleep when I’m forced to track a target for days on end, so I don’t need to wake up every hour to make sure I’m safe.”