Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 125681 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 628(@200wpm)___ 503(@250wpm)___ 419(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 125681 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 628(@200wpm)___ 503(@250wpm)___ 419(@300wpm)
The thought of never finding Phoenix made me feel hollow inside. I needed to get her, trap her to me, and tell her that she was mine forever. Nothing else mattered—not my brothers, not my other siblings, and damn sure not the money.
Just one clue, God.
Lost, I looked down at the table.
One hint. . .
The moon’s glow dimly lit the space.
Words covered the table’s surface. They’d been the only things giving me hope for the past week of guarding the bathrooms.
Lots of the scribblings were curses and lewd humor. At the corner of the table were several drawings of tits right next to a big penis with hairy balls.
But where I sat someone had written several lyrics of love and always signed it with the same name.
Rebel.
I looked down at one of Rebel’s poems violently carved into the edge of the table.
I came to this place, expecting to only find monsters, but I found the beauty of you. I discovered your drug-like love and now all I want to do is drink and smoke you, until you’re nothing. . .until every part of you is inside me. Until we’re intoxicated. Until we’re one.
Rebel.
That was how I felt.
That was why I sat at this table, day and night.
I yearned for that drug-like love that Rebel wrote about, that craving to be one—to be intoxicated—I too was desperate to consume her.
West spoke, “We have movement in front of you, Cain.”
What?
I looked up.
Who’s this?
A tall kid headed over, wearing black jogging pants and a brown jacket with no shirt. His blond hair was spiked up.
He must’ve been six feet tall. However, the height didn’t hide his baby face. I guessed that he was fourteen or fifteen. Still, he was no innocent boy. Murderous violence ran in his blue eyes. I bet the kid had killed a few people already.
What does he want?
I picked up the whitling knife.
He stopped in front of me, spotted the knife in my hand and opened his jacket wider, showing me a holstered gun.
I nodded. “Nice weapon.”
He gave me a huge smile. “My mommy got it for me for Christmas.”
“You’re a lucky boy.”
“I sure am.” He opened the other side, showing off the second gun. “Very lucky.”
I caught the ink covering his stomach and chest. I looked up and spotted the third eye tattooed at the center of his neck. Huge black wings encased the eye.
I set the knife down. “Nice ink too.”
The kid leaned his head to the side. “So, you like boys?”
I frowned. “I don’t like kids at all.”
The smile left his face. “Good because there’s no kids for sale here. You’ll need to go somewhere else.”
“Do I? I thought this was a public place.”
He pulled out the gun on his left, but kept it at his side. “You thought wrong.”
West whispered in the bud, “I’ve got a target on his head. If he tries you, I’ll—”
I shook my head. “Don’t shoot.”
The kid assumed I was talking to him. “I don’t plan to shoot as long as you get out of here.”
“I can leave right now, if you give me some information.”
“This isn’t an information desk.” With the gun, the kid gestured at my jacket. “I’m sure you have a phone. Use the internet to search out any shit you need to know.”
Griff spoke in my ear. “So. . .there’s like six kids hiding behind the trees near you. I think they’re attempting to surround you.”
I tensed.
Griff cleared his throat. “What do we do?”
“Relax.” I remained still.
The kid raised his eyebrows.
I smiled. “I’m looking for someone who was here weeks ago. I’ll pay for the information.”
The kid shrugged. “Many people come here.”
“More teens are sneaking over and hiding behind trees, man.” Griff’s nervous voice filled my ear. “This shit reminds me of that old movie, Children of the Corn. Remember those creepy ass kids—”
“Shut up, Griff.” West growled. “Cain, I think you should get out of there. Right now.”
I put my focus back on the kid. “I can give you a lot of money for the information.”
The kid gestured at his guns. “Or I could take the money.”
“Why exert more action than you need to, when I would just hand it to you?”
The kid continued to hold the gun, but kept it pointed to the ground. “How much money?”
“Five hundred dollars.”
Looking to the side, the kid loudly whistled as if signaling to someone else.
Griff spoke, “Those creepy ass kids are backing away.”
“Let me get it for you.” Slowly, I moved my hands near the jacket.
The kid pointed the gun at me. “If you take out anything besides cash, I’m putting a bullet in your neck.”
“The chest would be easier, if you want a fast kill.”
He grinned. “I don’t like easy or fast.”
I pulled out the massive stack of twenties.
The kid’s gaze fell on the money. “Leave it on the table and walk away from it.”