Sins of Omission Read online T.S. McKinney (Sub Mission #2)

Categories Genre: BDSM, Erotic, Gay, GLBT, M-M Romance, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Sub Mission Series by T.S. McKinney
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Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 70574 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
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Anywhere or with anybody.

The eerie shadows of the empty, unlit hallway forced me to slow my pace, but there wasn’t any amount of darkness that could slow the thundering of my heart—at least not until I was at home and locked away in my lonely, yet safe bedroom. What a pathetic life. Maybe I needed to buy some cats to make me look even worse to anybody that might pause from their busy lives to gaze at my existence.

No worries. Nobody saw the real me, so they believed everything was fine. If my dad, Baker, or Seth knew of my daily battles fighting the menace of depression that threatened to completely trap me within its web forever, they’d cling to me like glue. I didn’t need that, though. Pity was an ugly look on just about anyone as far as I was concerned.

The lighted EXIT sign at the end of the hallway beckoned me, so I hastened my steps. Escape could be mere minutes away.

Damn Eli Wallace with all his muscles, tattoos, and confident smile. Damn him for saying those words to me—pretending he was here to pick up where we’d left off, acting like he’d forgiven me for all the lies I’d told. This was all his fault. I’d nearly chiseled out a nice calm life for myself before he’d waltzed his glorious ass globes back into my life, toppling all my hard work over faster than a cat knocked breakables off tables. Why? Why was he here? His husky response to that very question wasn’t the truth. It couldn’t be. When I’d last seen him, he’d been so angry, so full of hurt and hate. That shit didn’t just disappear. No, he was here to hurt me, to make me pay for hurting him. It had to be a well-planned scheme of revenge against me for trying to lure him into my bed when I’d been underage.

I shoved the door open, silently seething over all the ways his arrival had damaged my life and stepped out into the freezing February temperatures. Dammit! In my stupid run-for-your-life-exit, I’d forgotten to grab my coat and gloves. Perfect. Not only had he made me look like a coward and horrible excuse for a friend, now Eli was going to be responsible for me freezing my ass off before I could get Uber here to save me. Stubborn determination led to me allowing the door to slam shut behind me, locking me out of the warmth of the club and eliminating the choice of me swallowing my pride and returning to the party.

I wrapped my arms snugly around my midsection and started moving as quickly as possible toward the exit of the dark alley. It was fucking creepy, probably dangerous, and there was sticky goop all over the pavement beneath my feet. I suddenly felt thankful for the darkness—it successfully hid the nastiness surrounding me. It wasn’t like I was a germ freak or anything….

Okay, I was a germ freak.

Having said that, it wouldn’t take a germ freak to be disgusted by the ickiness of the environment. It practically screamed perfect setting for a horror flick.

I wanted to reach out and use the brick wall as guidance but didn’t dare let whatever that wall was probably coated with touch my hands. I’d rather fall. Shit, wait. If I fell, I’d be face-first in it. Having calculated the level of grossness in my head, I yanked my sweater sleeve low enough to cover my hand completely and then reached out to use the bricks to steady my escape. The lights of the sidewalk were a short fifteen yards away. How could it be so dark when lighting was that close?

Was I a pussy for running from Eli? Yeah, probably. Would I rather be considered a pussy than face him? No hesitation to answering that question—yes, I would.

Since my eyes were glued to the lights of the sidewalk, I noticed the instant the safe lighting, the pathway to my salvation, was suddenly blocked. My feet froze in mid-step as my eyes focused on the bulky figures that unexpectedly loomed in front of me. Four of them. On top of the fact I was outnumbered and that all of them looked to be candidates for an Incredible Hulk remake, I wasn’t picking up on the usual gay-bashing, bully shit that I would have expected from them. No, these men sent out the all business vibe. I quickly surmised that this encounter had nothing to do with me being gay and everything to do with the company I worked for.

They were moving at a quick pace, so there wasn’t much time to try and come up with a plan of action. A retreat was out of the question—the heavy metal door I’d exited out of locked from the inside. Getting past them looked to be borderline impossible. Shit. Shit. Shit.


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