Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 67966 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 340(@200wpm)___ 272(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67966 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 340(@200wpm)___ 272(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
Ross fed him a big chocolate-covered strawberry, and when juice spilled down his chin, Ross caught it with his tongue.
Jonah wanted to cry with appreciation. Ross had always been the one person who never cared what or how much he ate. And here he was again, chewing through the ball’s leftovers in Thorn’s fancy kitchen with as much gusto as Jonah, eyes never once cutting toward him in judgment.
When they were good and full, Ross leaned against the counter and tugged Jonah between his legs.
“See? Nothin’s changed. It’s still us against the world.”
“Will you come to my room…spend the night?”
Because he wouldn’t mind a little more of what they’d just done, and in the morning as well.
Ross kissed his knuckles again like he’d done on the dancefloor. “Lead the way, lover.”
101st Street, Skid Row
Virginia Beach Oceanfront
February 2nd, 12:31 a.m.
Axel smiled on his way out of the back door. He was happy for Thorn. He’d never seen him smile the way he had tonight with the big-time banker. And if anyone had earned the right to happiness, it was Thorn.
But he had no idea what the hell Lincoln was doing with that emotionally blocked police officer. His eyes were sad, his aura angry, his mind confused.
Axel sighed. He hoped his good friend knew what he was doing.
If anyone can heal a heart that caged, it’s Linc.
Axel would’ve enjoyed his walk down the beach—under the moonlight—more if he wasn’t sockless in these goddang Gucci loafers.
He cringed at the sand grinding between his toes.
Axel would just have to endure. He’d promised his friend, Clarence, he’d show him his full ensemble. He also had an extra blanket for him, since the temperature was supposed to drop tomorrow night.
He reflected on how much fun he’d had tonight. He liked the two new gentlemen coming since it was safe to say Casey would be leaving soon. He’d been like a sweet baby brother to him in the short time he’d waited for his perfect Dom. Axel would miss him, but he was also beyond-the-stars happy for him.
Not everyone was that fortunate.
His boots sank into the softer sand after he’d cleared the manicured stretch of land around Thorn’s property. It was like crossing into another world.
The appearance of this stretch of beach was treacherous.
The hum of oceanfront nightlife faded, replaced by the groan of the rusted boardwalk signs fighting against the winter wind, muffled arguments, drug deals, and bursts of manic laughter.
The receding waves polluted the shallow waters with filthy debris and spit back twice as much onto the surf in a never-ending cycle.
The air smelled of a pungent cocktail of sea brine, urine, sour beer, and the tang of burned metal and paper from trash-can fires. The scent mixture coated the back of his throat.
Stuttering neon signs buzzed like nocturnal insects. Once bustling storefronts were now boarded up with warped plywood and decorated with graffiti.
Axel adjusted the bag of warm food and the thick blanket tucked tight under his arm as he wove deeper into the labyrinth of the barely surviving. Makeshift tents constructed of tarps, milk crates, and rusted umbrella poles sagged with depression.
He slowed his stride, scanning the faces as he passed: men with their eyes cast down, huddled in blankets too thin for the cold, women guarding their few belongings with suspicion, young runaways curled under cardboard.
Every step farther in was a reminder of the cliff edge Thorn had pulled him back from.
Despite how much it hurt his heart, Axel kept going, kept carrying on. Because no matter how bleak it looked, there were still people here who needed someone to remember their names.
He made it to Clarence’s four-person SunDome tent—that he’d bought him last Christmas—and called out his nickname.
“Hey, old-timer! Prepare for shock and awe.” Axel popped inside the tent with a flourish and set his things to the side.
The dim battery-operated lantern flickered in the corner, and nothing was out of place, but something felt off.
His energy was pulsing, responding to something strong and powerful nearby.
Axel blinked at the still lump under the thinning blankets. Clarence was never asleep at this hour. The man was a night owl through and through.
“Hey,” Axel called out.
He knew his friend wasn’t drunk or high—he never touched that stuff—and got worried. He crawled across the confined space and nudged Clarence with his hand. When there was still no sound, Axel’s heart skipped a beat.
“Clarence!” He shook the shit out of the buried mound before he started to yank away the layers.
“What the—” a deep voice barked.
A younger man—very much not Clarence—jerked upright, causing Axel to fall back on his ass.
Freakin’ heck!
Axel crab-walked as far backward as the tent would allow.
“Who are you?” they both hollered.
The stranger kicked his jeans-clad legs free of the blankets as if preparing to fight or flee.
Axel cocked his head to the side, getting a better look at the scruffy man with unkempt red hair and haunted mint-green eyes. His features were prominent enough to shine even in the darkness.