Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 82896 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82896 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Clover hid his face against Tank’s bicep while bitterness filled his veins. “That night, I told Boar that if he loved me he would come too. I think about it every day. Please tell me I’m not a bad person.”
There was it again. That meaningful inhale, and Clover shut his eyes, fighting tears that made his eyes itch.
“It’s in the past. We can’t change it. You’re not a bad person, Clover, you just made a mistake. That’s all,” Tank said and kissed the top of his head.
Clover sniffed. “I love you so much you wouldn’t even know. I always feel safe around you. Even when we argue, I know you’d never hurt me.”
Tank shook his head and their eyes met. “I just wish you trusted me with your and Drake’s secret. You wouldn’t have to be so alone with it.”
Something shrunk inside of Clover, but he only cuddled up to Tank more, relaxing ever so slightly under his arm, which smelled of delicious cologne. “I didn’t want you to treat me differently. I wasn’t sure how to process it myself. But the truth is it’s not fine. I still don’t know how to get back to normal. Apollo did what he intended to. He broke us.”
Tank’s hand moved into his hair. “We all want good things to last. But bad shit happened. Boar’s not there, Pyro’s gone so far off the rails I don’t even know if there’s a way back for him, and Drake’s eaten up by guilt. You’re the only one who tries to put on a brave face. You’re allowed to grieve too, Clover. You don’t have to be strong for us. Didn’t I promise to take care of you?”
“And that’s the other thing. I didn’t want it to eat at you. I got hurt stupidly charging into things. I thought I knew it all, and it turned out I couldn’t handle the simplest things. One punch to the face from Apollo’s men, a few threats, and I was a mess. I was terrified of what they might do to me.”
Tank kissed Clover’s forehead, hugging him so gently Clover almost forgot about the dead body in the room. “Am I not your Daddy? I want to know what’s eating at you. I can take it. Maybe if I’d known, I’d have done things differently.”
Clover sniffed, so calmed by Tank’s touch he could finally breathe with ease. “I don’t want different. I want things to go back to the way they were, but we can’t do that, can we? Sometimes, I feel I’m still stuck in that room where Drake was forced to torture me, and I can’t get out. You’re banging on the door, but I can’t leave. I even told Drake that I’m fine, but I’m not. I’d tell him anything so that he comes back to us, but when I think about him being back—really back, as in having-sex-back—I get this choking sensation in my throat. I hate it.”
“You know he loves you, right? He practically told me he’d never felt this way about anyone before you. If you want him back, it will eventually happen, but if that’s your state of mind, then hiding what happened might not have been such a good decision. You don’t have to do this alone,” Tank said, cupping Clover’s face.
Clover kissed him, so much lighter now that Tank actually knew all the things Clover had been hiding away in the darkest corners of his heart. “Thank you, Daddy. For being there for me even when I fuck up. I keep holding on to this hope that if we only find Boar, he can pull us back together.”
Tank nodded. “Clover, we will pull back together whatever happens.”
Clover took a deep breath when Tank wiped the tears off his face. They hugged in silence, and so much love filled Clover’s shattered heart, he was finally ready to move.
When he looked out of the window, Pyro’s car wasn’t there. “Tank? I… I don’t particularly like Pyro right now, but I love him. You know what I mean? I can’t just let him go.”
Tank groaned and rested his chin on Clover’s head. “I’ll go with you. I’ve got a tracker on his car.”
Chapter 6 - Pyro
The coke he’d bought burned his palm, as if it were a winning lottery check. The world around him thudded with the sound of feet and clapping accompanying the fight before his own. The venue here had much better acoustics than the shabby cellar back in Texas, and voices turned into a single sound blob that fell heavily on his shoulders with each pulse inside his head.
He pushed past two women in heavy makeup and revealing clothes, uninterested in anything they had on offer. But once he reached the nearest table, the white dust from the tiny Ziploc bag sprinkled dry coffee stains, and anticipation rose deep inside Pyro.