Total pages in book: 171
Estimated words: 159050 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 795(@200wpm)___ 636(@250wpm)___ 530(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 159050 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 795(@200wpm)___ 636(@250wpm)___ 530(@300wpm)
Knight leaned against the wall, gritting his teeth as he watched Elliot thrash around like a rabid hedgehog. Only it was just hysteria born out of a dream Elliot at some point started believing. No matter how ill it was making Knight to break this kind of news, he didn’t owe Elliot anything. In fact, he’d already gone above and beyond the decent thing of offering Elliot shelter. He’d saved Elliot’s life two times, clothed him, fed him, and gave him some pretty amazing sex. And this was his reward. A hissy fit and scorn. How typical. Yet more proof that any attempts at relationships were not worth the hassle.
“What about your clothes?”
Elliot scowled. “What clothes? This? You want your stuff back?” He pulled his T-shirt off so rapidly Knight heard it tear.
Shit. This was rapidly getting out of control.
“No. Just pack your shit. Where have you put it all?”
Elliot’s shoulders sagged and he grabbed his bag off the floor. “I… I’ve got everything,” he mumbled and put his boots on his bare feet. He was just stalling with leaving then. Why hadn’t he unpacked if he’d stayed here for an entire week?
Knight briefly looked away from the dark gaze that burned with so much emotion he couldn’t stand its weight. His eyes caught a black notebook on the bedside table and he gestured toward it. “What about your notes?”
Elliot hesitated. “That? That’s your fucking Christmas present, so you can keep it. It’s not like I can take it back. Merry fucking Christmas.” He turned around and walked off to the door without even a T-shirt on.
Knight glanced between the notebook and Elliot, following him before he could even see what was written in the damn thing. “Don’t be like that. I don’t want you to leave. Just stay in your room. I’ll be away for Christmas, so we can both take time to think about this.”
Elliot didn’t look back at him, but showed him the finger while walking out. “It’s not like I have anywhere to go, since we both know my trailer is a freezer.”
Knight was done. “Fine. If you can’t be fucking respectful then go. I’m not your keeper.”
Elliot slammed the door behind him so hard a framed poster on the wall rattled. The silence left behind was so intense Knight could hear Elliot’s steps resonating down the corridor.
He looked around, helpless against a sense of guilt, even though he knew he’d done nothing wrong. He hadn’t slapped Elliot back, because he knew if he had Elliot would have probably fallen over.
The room still smelled of Elliot’s shampoo, but there was no trace of him otherwise. Well, besides—
Knight exhaled the heavy air from his lungs and walked up the steps to pick up the black notebook from his nightstand. After the clusterfuck that had just happened, he was expecting some emo scrapbook of their ‘relationship’, but what he found instead left him stunned.
Elliot had dug up information on Raphael Mercier. That in itself wouldn’t have made much sense because Knight had shown Elliot details about the man himself, but what the notes were pointing out was that Elliot had found out that Knight’s ancestor had actually been of Italian origin and only when he came to France he’d changed his last name from Massimino. Which opened up a whole new branch of research for Knight’s family tree after he’d been stuck in his research into family history prior to the 1700s forever.
Page after page, Elliot stapled in scans of all the information he’d found on the topic, including printouts of screens from his favorite serial killer fan community.
Knight brushed his fingers over the pages of the most thoughtful gift he’d ever received from anyone. The paper had even somehow soaked up Elliot’s scent and was now whispering for Knight to catch Elliot. Try to make amends. Maybe talk things through like grown men. Maybe Elliot had reconsidered after having initially exploded with rage?
He buried his face between the cool sheets of paper that smelled of ink and Elliot’s sweat, and he shook his head. No. He shouldn’t be just budging at someone’s whim. If he remained firm, Elliot could have the much-needed time to think and get over his obvious infatuation with Knight. They could then go back to work in the cellar, even if just as friends.
It should be all right eventually.
It really should.
Chapter 17
Elliot was sobbing so violently he needed to stop walking in order to breathe. His entire body trembled with the sudden cold of the corridors and the shock that overcame him when Knight pushed him without warning into icy waters. How could his life have collapsed this way in a matter of minutes? One day Knight was texting Elliot that he wished they have seen the Morris-Jumel Mansion together, and now he was kicking Elliot out like a sick dog that came with more responsibility than he’d bargained for.