Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 93412 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 374(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93412 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 374(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)
Gabriel swallowed the lump in his throat. “I’d be grateful, thank you.”
Mrs. Knight rose, stretching her back with a crack, but as her eyes narrowed, Gabriel realized he could hear a car approaching.
“Children, keep off the road,” Mrs. Knight called to the group of kids pulling out weeds from between the edible plants.
Gabriel exhaled and glanced at the asphalt cutting through the fields only a stone’s throw away, but as he spotted the bright yellow of the vehicle, the hairs on his body bristled.
Mrs. Knight might not have known the extent of Officer Martinez’s offenses, but she still scowled and shook her head. “That man again… He might be a policeman, but there’s something wrong with him.”
Gabriel nodded and grabbed the pruning shears resting in the dirt at his feet. He usually steered clear of Martinez, eager to skitter away like the mouse Sister Beatrice considered him to be. But today, he was filled with acid rage, and if only he got the chance, he’d spit it in Martinez’s face.
11
ABADDON
Abaddon pulled on the sweatshirt Gabriel had lent him. It was extremely oversized on the boy, yet its sleeves left Abaddon’s wrists uncovered, which made him think of Gabriel again. How could someone so sweet and small be so very contrarian and reckless?
“I don’t know how to talk to him. I understand that he’s been through a lot but why throw his life away when I’m here to do the dirty work for him?” Abaddon asked before dropping back on the bed. “I bet he doesn’t just storm out on you.”
The massive fluffy cat sat on the chair opposite Abaddon and meowed, showing off all its sharp teeth that, surprisingly, he hadn’t yet used to rip Abaddon’s throat open at night. He wouldn’t have chosen the cat’s company and wasn’t even sure why it freaked him out so much, but Gabriel had made it clear that he wouldn’t indefinitely lock away his pet, so there they were. A fallen angel and a cat.
“Of course he doesn’t. You’ve been with him much longer. You must know why he’s being so unreasonable!”
But the cat just cocked its head, reaching for Abaddon with its paw. For a moment, Abaddon thought the thing would communicate with him, share some nugget of wisdom about how to deal with Gabriel, but Cloud was only swatting at a fly.
“This is fucking useless. Just… don’t surprise me anymore, buddy,” Abaddon muttered, heading for the door. It had been over a week since his birth, and he’d so far managed to hide his presence here. He had all the intention of keeping it that way, but not at the cost of Gabriel’s safety. Someone had to save the boy from his own recklessness.
Cloud meowed, jumped to the floor and rubbed its fluffy body against Abaddon’s leg. Was it… trying to stop him? No. There was no point in trying to assign reason to this animal.
Abaddon opened the door and stepped into the empty corridor, holding his breath. “Stay,” he commanded before shutting the room behind him.
Peace overcame him as soon as he no longer had the frail, fluffy creature within sight. He couldn’t explain why the cat made him so nervous but at least its company no longer got him nauseated.
He had to admit the Cloud looked cute in Gabriel’s arms. Or was it that Gabriel was cute and shed that aura on anything he touched? He distinctly remembered walking in on Gabriel grooming his pet two days back. Cloud had laid on the floor with his little pink belly up, patiently letting Gabriel get rid of the dirt and tangles in the long fur with the proficiency of someone who’d been doing this for years every day. His lips were moving, but the words of the melody he’d been singing were too soft for Abaddon to discern, as if each letter was a translucent cloud meant for the cat’s ears only.
In that moment, Abaddon dreamt of the boy grooming his hair too, but had been too self-conscious to propose it. For all he knew, Gabriel might want nothing to do with him from now on, but it was a pointless thing to ponder.
Abaddon ventured away from the door as soon as he established that the coast was indeed clear. Last night, Gabriel had told him he’d be on produce duty, so Abaddon scanned the grounds outside, wary of being seen. Children were scattered within sight—some doing garden chores, others playing a game, but it was their caregivers Abaddon was more worried about, so he kept his head low.
Gabriel was easy to spot—a scarecrow of a boy in a hoodie so dark it could have been a black hole sucking in the sunshine. Abaddon’s stomach clenched when he saw him approach Sister Beatrice. He needed to be closer in case things turned ugly. As sweet as Gabriel was, at times it was difficult to predict his actions, and Abaddon didn’t want unnecessary risk after witnessing his weird behavior in the morning.