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)
“Thanks. I’ll be… home,” I say, clearing my throat. And then I’m off, away from the guys, maneuvering the tray overflowing with food for three on my way out of the canteen. I’m squinting to get used to the bright sun outside when I hear loud footsteps behind me.
“Road?” Molly asks, and I swear I’ll never get this food to my man at this rate.
“Yeah? What is it?” I say, not even stopping. She can follow me if she wants. We’ve fooled around once or twice in the past, but I don’t owe her anything.
She speeds up to walk next to me and flashes me a big smile. “I just wanted to say that it’s cool with me that you’re with Clyde. He’s so hot I don’t blame you. So… if you’re ever looking for a third…”
“We’re both gay,” I say, because I don’t know what else she’s expecting. A thank-you for her permission to fuck whoever I want?
“Oh…” She bites her thumb with a sigh. “But didn’t you—”
I’m not about to explain to her the details of my sexuality.
“Listen, if you wanna be helpful, bring me some shampoo later, okay?”
To my relief, she beams at me and nods, staying behind. “On it, Road!”
At least someone is being semi-normal about my new partner.
I’m halfway back when I spot a familiar figure in a long blue dress crossing the path ahead alongside a whole flock of chickens. The worry about consequences is back, and I speed up, eager to catch up to Luna. “Morning!”
She’s carrying a large basket and spills chicken feed from her fist every now and then, to make sure the birds follow her. She looks back at me with a smile, but I can’t really read her well. “That’s a lot of food.”
I stall, frozen in place. Doesn’t she know yet?
“Yeah… you didn’t hear about the person who moved in with me?”
My guts coil like snakes inside me when she doesn’t meet my eyes. “Right. Makes sense. Mom told me. You can’t fight destiny.”
I swallow.
Maybe I know nothing of magic, fate, and all that spiritual shit, but I feel at home with Clyde, and everything else needs to adjust to that fact one way or another. “I know he used to be a Butcher, but he’s a good one.”
She chews on that for a while as we walk together in silence, followed by her clucking chickens. “We… consulted the cards last night with Mom. You two are bound by the Death card. Whatever he was, he’s been reborn and I look forward to meeting him in the future for who he is now.”
I’m still not sure if Brigid actually believes the cards, stars, and tea dregs can tell her the future, or if she’s just using them to achieve the result she desires, but whatever helps. If tarot can help Luna get over the fact that Roy’s brother moved into Vulture Hollow, that’s what counts.
“Thanks. I’m sure he’d like that too. He’s… been through a lot lately,” I say, staring at the crowd of little chicks hunting for grain. “Actually, may I... borrow one of them?”
“A chicken?” She cocks her head at me.
“Yes. I’ll explain later, but the food is already cooling…”
Luna shakes her head with a smile, and after a bit of wrangling, she manages to put the tiny chick in the wicker basket with a closed lid. She then carefully helps hook it on my arm so I can carry the tray.
We say our goodbyes and I rush off with my heart overflowing with joy.
My arms are aching from the effort of carrying the heavy load while simultaneously keeping it as steady as possible, so by the time I reach my home, I’m happy to see Creep. I get him to open the door for me, and then send him on his way, eager to feed my man.
I let out a playful whistle and enter the bedroom, called over by his choked grunt.
Clyde sits up on the bed, yawning and rubbing his eyes. “What time is it?” he asks but then glances at the tray I brought. “Wow! That looks like everything I want right now.”
I was hungry before, but he looks good enough to eat in my bed, wrapped in my blanket, and smelling of me. I place the tray on the bed, then walk around it until I can embrace him from behind, and ah…. there’s nothing like burying my face in his hair. If that means I’m a simp, so be it. Whatever.
“I have a surprise,” I say, placing the basket in his lap.
He raises his brows at me but then opens the basket. The chick cocks its little head and lets out a melodic tweet.
“Is this for me? Where did you get it?” Clyde utters, stroking its head with his fingertip. He’s so gentle with that tiny thing, I end up enfolding him in my arms more firmly, because with everything in his life hanging in the balance, he’s fragile too.