Total pages in book: 209
Estimated words: 196141 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 981(@200wpm)___ 785(@250wpm)___ 654(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 196141 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 981(@200wpm)___ 785(@250wpm)___ 654(@300wpm)
Elias stops with a huff. “I have not,” he states curtly.
“As much as we wanna be away from all that ‘bullshit’, we can’t stop the ‘bullshit’ from coming to us. Did you not realize what that was last night?” Kyle asks suddenly, voice lowered to nearly a whisper, as if Lazarus lurks around a corner, listening. “Tristan told me about Them, capital T, Them. He told me many times over our years together, he warned me there were others out there who follow no rules, who are cruel, soulless … He said looking upon one is like looking upon your own death. When we met Markadian and George, I thought they were who Tristan meant all this time, but no. Last night …” He looks away, despairing. “Last night, I now see. I see what else is out there … what I might become, if I don’t …”
Elias comes to the edge of the bed where Kyle sits, still hugging his knees. “You will never be one of Them.”
“How do you know?”
“I just do.”
“You know nothing, Elias. And for that matter, neither do I. We’re …” Kyle shakes his head, frustrated. “We’re having the same argument all over again.”
“Listen, I know you want answers, but Tristan? You can’t trust him. He lied to you. Many times. He’s the one who—”
“I spent twenty-six years of my life with him. I loved him—and hated him. I know who Tristan is.” Kyle gets to his feet. “But I can’t protect you, Elias. Not if that thing comes back here. I can’t protect anyone in this town. Do you know how helpless that makes me feel?”
Elias sighs. “I know.”
“You don’t know,” Kyle barks back, fists balled up, crossing the room and coming to a stop by the wall where it’s shattered. “He was so strong, he even overpowered me. How is anyone safe here if more of Them find us? What if he wasn’t even the strongest? Or the most vicious? What if he’s downright tame compared to what’s out there? Elias, you can pretend to be strong all you want, but I can fucking feel your fear.”
Elias casts his troubled eyes to the floor, hands on his hips.
Perhaps they both knew that a promise of a long, happy life out here was too good to be true. Neither wanted to admit it.
And now the reality is at their doorstep.
“Just … please don’t go to him.” Elias speaks slowly, calmly. “I’d like you to think it over some more. Give it time. It’s not good to make decisions when emotional.” Elias drops onto the edge of the bed with a sigh, looks away. “I … can still feel his … his teeth … feeding on my body. Fuck, I don’t even know what he looked like. Why’d I agree to a blindfold?”
Kyle comes back to him, lets Elias rest his head against his side, rubs his short buzzed hair, the pleasantly prickly parts at the base of his neck where it’s grown out a little. Neither speak.
Give it time, Elias had suggested.
Maybe he’s right.
It’s a short time later when Kyle stands at the door, dressed for his shift. “I’ll be just fine here,” insists Elias. “I don’t need any babysitting, I don’t need you to call in, I just want things to go on as normally as they did before. The bar needs you.”
They’ve already gone back and forth a dozen times. It’s no use. Elias’s stubbornness is a force of nature. “I’m still calling you every half hour,” Kyle insists.
“I’ll be fine.”
“Every twenty minutes.” Kyle kisses Elias deeply. It gives him such comfort in the face of everything that’s happened over the past twenty-four hours. It’s ever so tempting to defy Elias and beg Cade for the night off anyway. The last thing he wants to do is leave Elias alone. “Every ten.”
“Go.” Elias smacks Kyle on the ass. “Dinner will be ready for you by the time you’re back. And by dinner, I do mean a plump spot on my ass you can sink your teeth into.”
Kyle attempts a smile. “Lock up after me.”
“Won’t help anyway against one of Them,” teases Elias, then, “sorry, too soon, ignore that, go, go, go,” as he practically pushes Kyle out the door and locks up behind him.
Kyle sits in their car for a moment, listening to the engine. The radio crackles with a 90s hit he remembers was on a mix tape he made himself back in high school—a song he played for Tristan once that seemed to move him. Kyle closes his eyes and lets the music take him over for a moment, forgetting Lazarus, forgetting the visit from Jessica, forgetting Elias, forgetting his own sense of lonesomeness, and just thinking on his mortal life.
He pulls out of the driveway.
Then heads in the wrong direction.