Total pages in book: 44
Estimated words: 40484 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 202(@200wpm)___ 162(@250wpm)___ 135(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 40484 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 202(@200wpm)___ 162(@250wpm)___ 135(@300wpm)
“Guys, this is El. The guy I told you so much about,” he said somewhat dryly and placed his arm across El’s shoulders.
Raja pretended the burgers needed more of his attention, while Hunter stood there with his lips parted for a little too long.
“Oh. Oh man! So you finally found him, I’m happy for you,” he said as if they didn’t all know he’d been stalking El for years.
Raja must have composed his thoughts because he looked back, combing his beard with mustard-stained fingers. “I thought it was never gonna happen, to be honest. I guess that’s the end of your freedom.” He winked at Trig, who hoped the bastard didn’t notice the long yellow stain in his facial hair for another hour.
El had his mouth busy with the hot dog, and while he still seemed angry, his glare became less abrasive.
“El’s always been my freedom. Anything else was just… transient while I waited until he decided to join me,” Trig said, lowering his voice, because he knew it made him sound like a giant sap.
Raja blinked and leaned over the barbeque, his clothes soaking up the delicious smoke. “What? Could you repeat that?” he asked with a straight face, even though the stiffness around his mouth meant he was just trying to embarrass Trig.
It was working.
El looked up at him with his eyes sharp enough to cut a man open. “Freedom was the two of us.”
That hurt. What was Trig supposed to say to that when his attachment to the Coffin Nails had given him more freedom than he could have dreamed of sleeping under a bridge and fighting for life’s scraps. He and El had been hopelessly in love and looking out for each other, but they used to be locked in a constant struggle to cover their basic needs. El could surely see why Trig wanted more than that—for both of them—so all this talk was only meant to hurt him.
A leather-clad hand sneaked between them, going straight for a burger already stacked in its bun by the grill.
“Misha wants his with extra cheese and the Big Mac sauce,” Grim said as if that was more important than discussing tonight’s murders. He took command of the space with his sheer presence, tall and impressive like a character from an 80s leather porno.
Grim had long since healed from the horrible accident that had left the side of his face burned. He was handsome as ever with dark hair neatly slicked back and muscles filling his leather button-up. El glanced his way, curious of the stranger, but his gaze was stuck to the massive shlong trapped in Grim’s left pant leg.
El spoke when he finally had the decency to look up. “You must be Grim. I understand that I owe you one.”
Grim’s gaze settled on him in silence, and Trig cleared his throat. “That’s El.”
“Hm, you didn’t mention he wasn’t intact,” Grim said, crooking his neck to stare at the side of El’s head, where the ear had been missing for so long that Trig barely remembered it had been there when they first met.
Discomfort curled in Trig’s guts when the hand that had taken many more lives than his reached for El. He grabbed Grim by the wrist before he could have thought it through.
“Don’t.”
El glanced between them, licking his fingers after he swallowed more of the hot dog. “What? My ear? That was ages ago, it’s my arm that got injured today,” he said as if he hadn’t been the one to cut it open. Just remembering the sight of that blade slashing into the delicate flesh that deserved only kisses had Trig nauseated. And he was hardly squeamish about blood after years of working with the Coffin Nails’ infamous assassin.
“Your man is right there, Grim,” Trig said forcefully and nodded toward Misha, who sat on a wicker sofa in shorts that revealed his prosthetic legs. He never bothered hiding them, and even owned several types, which he used on different occasions. Tonight, he sported a futuristic, sleek black set that surely had Grim’s blood flowing faster.
Misha always had a stern expression, as if he were analyzing everyone around him from behind thick-rimmed glasses, and this time, all of his attention was on El. “I’m not worried. A missing ear can hardly compete with a double leg amputation,” he said with a shrug, his Russian accent making every word sharp enough to stab El.
Trig was thankful for the music that filled the dull silence as some of the partygoers started migrating away from the drama they didn’t want to have anything to do with. He’d been familiar with Grim’s preferences for years, but he’d never gotten used to the way his mentor noticed people with missing digits or limbs the same way other men noticed busty women. But at the end of the day, Grim and Misha’s relationship was genuine, and Grim had literally carried his man out of a burning building, so Trig tried not to overthink the fetish just because it made him uncomfortable.