Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 81279 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 406(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81279 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 406(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
It’s the black balaclava with the print of a wolf skull with teeth bared in a silent threat. The mask worn by the intruder who tried to do fuck knows what to me just a week ago.
The intruder who knew my name.
With panic choking me, I put the mask back on the rack, aiming for the same position it was in. The man who broke into my house is in the other room, and he had a knife.
All the hairs on my body bristle and I feel like I’m gonna throw up.
What. The. Fuck?
Chapter 9
Saint
I can already sense the warmth of his body against mine. I’m in my kitchen, pulling the savory pie I made for lunch out of the oven, but my mind is traveling to the soon-to-be future, where Rowan is my companion, my partner, my lover, and he’s next to me when I wake up each morning.
Wouldn’t that be something? To finally have someone to share my life with, both in and out of work? I’d get him the best medical care there is, and take him places he’s never imagined visiting. We’d go on thrill rides in amusement parks, to fancy restaurants, and see all the sights the world has to offer. Together. It’s never been as fun on my own.
As I plate the salad and cut two pieces of the pie, all I can think about is the way he smiled at me when he came over, and I want to see it again. He even bought us cake. How cute is that?
“Lunch is ready,” I call out, placing both plates on the table.
He comes out of the bathroom looking pale, but I think he’s beautiful like that. With the black hair and dark eyes, he’s like Snow White. I wish I could tell him the truth already, so we can be honest with each other at last, but I don’t want to spook him. It’s not the right time.
Rowan glances toward the open door as if he forgot something, but then sits at the table. “Oh… Looks delicious,” he says, but doesn’t meet my eyes.
Does he secretly hate vegetables but feels the need to lie not to hurt my feelings? That is so him. But while I value how considerate he is, I want to be that for him too, and I give his hand a gentle stroke.
“Don’t worry if you don’t like it. I won’t be offended if you try both and decide to just have the cake for lunch.”
“It’s fine, I’m sure it’s great.” Rowan says and grabs a fork but hesitates over the knife for some reason. “Do you… I realized you told me about some of the places you traveled to, but never where you actually live.”
“I’m from Brooklyn,” I tell him, digging in. The pie is still very hot, so I cover my mouth and suck in air to cool the morsel down. But it's delicious. Creamy, rich. Perfection. “I have an apartment there, but I spend most of my time somewhere else. You know, ever since my uncle took me in. He moved around a lot for his job.”
“And what did he do?”
Rowan takes a bite of the pie and tells me it’s delicious, yet there’s a stiffness to his shoulders. Something is off, and I can’t work it out. Maybe he’s not comfortable in my house because of his phobia. I’m proud of him though that he’s challenging himself. Maybe if we do this a couple of times, he’ll understand that he’s perfectly safe at my side.
“A private detective.” It’s only a half-lie, since there is a lot of investigative work involved in being a professional killer, but I can’t wait to tell Rowan everything. About my past, our future, and about the gift I’m already crafting for him.
He looks up for half a second, poking at his salad. “Oh. So, like a policeman?”
I shake my head. “He wasn’t afraid to get his hands dirty. And he made me the man I am. I don’t know where I’d be if he hadn’t decided to take care of me.”
He taught me everything I know.
And I still miss him, even though he was quiet, grumpy, and never stopped trying to lure me into dating a girl. But when a guy broke my heart, my uncle broke his hand, so he was supportive of my dating life in his own way.
Rowan finally eats a bit of salad, slouching over the table. It reminds me of how he fell asleep against my shoulder last night. I would have carried him to bed, but that could have been a violation of his boundaries, and I didn’t want to freak him out. I learned my lesson the first time I visited his home.
“And there’s no boyfriend in Brooklyn I should know about?” He smiles stiffly. “You’re so handsome it’s hard for me to believe you’re single.”