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)
He sat by the table in the tiny eating area, wanting to be there if Pyro woke up and needed help, but after half an hour, he was confident that all would be fine. He left Pyro a plastic bowl, in case he needed to throw up, and some water and painkillers for the morning.
The air outside was cool, so he wondered for a while if he shouldn’t go and get Pyro an extra blanket, but in the end decided Pyro wouldn’t want the additional heat in his state anyway. He searched the stars for answers to their biggest worry, but when none came, and tiredness got the best of Clover, he dragged himself to the big trailer he shared with Tank.
This one smelled of citrusy air freshener. Tank and him kept it spotless. It wasn’t home-home in the same way Tank’s Oregon house had been, but he felt safe inside its thin walls. There was a stability to the trailer that motels couldn’t offer.
Tank’s form was sprawled on the right side of the bed, and Clover decided not to turn on any light as he undressed. Tank had far too much on his mind to be awoken in the middle of his much-needed rest. The T-shirt Clover used for sleeping lay ready on the sofa, and he quickly put it on before making his way to bed. The thin mattress felt familiar in the way it dipped under his weight, and as soon as he slid under the blanket, Tank put his arm over him, hugging Clover tight without a word.
Only then Clover could fall asleep.
Chapter 2 - Tank
Tank was never much of a lie-in kind of guy, but lately even getting up to exercise early had lost its merit. They’d ran out of leads on Boar, and no matter how much he tried to stay busy, there was no denying that he had nothing planned for the day.
Maybe it was time to move. Texas had yielded no hope and disappointed Tank with a thread that led nowhere. Some guy had claimed he’d seen a big bearded redhead juggling in the street alongside his dancing monkey, and when they’d traveled for hours to find some hipster, not Boar, they were all so embarrassed none of them spoke of that day again.
It all frustrated Drake so much he’d left—to search for new clues—he’d said, but since he’d switched off his phone and didn’t update them about his whereabouts, Tank was positive this was yet another fit of leave-me-alone coming from a guy who’d caused this whole mess with his reckless behavior.
Tank exhaled, wondering if he was okay, at least. Since Boar’s disappearance, Drake had spent more time away than with their small group, more often than not disappearing without telling anyone, only to reappear without explanation. There was no point in chastising him about it, no matter how much it stung that he didn’t want to turn to them for comfort, and preferred solitude instead. Though what he was up to during those secretive runs was anyone’s guess, and Tank respected him too much to bug the van.
When sunshine slapped him in the face and the scent of bacon became too intense to resist, Tank got up, ready to face a new day and Clover—the one part of their broken machine that still worked like a charm despite all he’d been through.
The trailer was the size of a bedroom and packed with necessities, but the kitchenette was the center of it all, and seeing Clover turn food in the sizzling pan put a rare smile on Tank’s face. The blonde-brown shade of his hair dimmed Clover’s features, but the fact that Clover felt he needed to dye it reminded Tank that he hadn’t managed to keep his boy safe. Still, he looked perfect with the sunshine illuminating his handsome features, dressed in fresh clothes, as if they weren’t at an austere campsite that didn’t even have access to running water.
These days, Clover’s smile was the only thing that made Tank happy. And seeing him in a loose T-shirt and boxer briefs, with the pale, slender legs on show was a definite improvement to Tank’s morning already.
“Hi.”
“Yay! You’re up.” Clover left the pan and drifted to Tank for a kiss. “I waited, but got hungry in the end. I guess the smell teased you out?” he asked and ran his hands up Tank’s sides before gently nudging him to sit on the padded bench at the table.
Tank was glad to see no bruises on him, because Pyro knew damn well not to put his hands on Clover, but in his drunken state he could be uncontrollable and sometimes handled their boy too hard. Tank would then make Pyro pay, but he could only do so much once the damage had been done.