Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 46838 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 234(@200wpm)___ 187(@250wpm)___ 156(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 46838 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 234(@200wpm)___ 187(@250wpm)___ 156(@300wpm)
No, I reply quickly. I can tell you’ve read a lot of books. You don’t talk like a brute at all. Hell, even the word ‘brute’ isn’t something an average boxer would use.
I used to have to hide my reading from my Dad. And my art. He just wanted me to be a fighter, so I did that. And part of me kind of liked it. But not all of me. But that’s not the point. The point is… you were calling to me. I felt it so deep I couldn’t question it or pretend to understand it.
I read the words quickly, then again, then again.
A nasty thought emerges in my mind.
What if Emil has somehow gotten his hands on Killian’s phone?
But no, the phone’s password protected. That would be Dad in my mind again, twisting everything up, the man I love and, in my quietest, most shameful moments, hate a little too.
I felt the same thing, I reply. I wanted you. And it wasn’t just physical. Obviously, I don’t have much of a frame of reference. But I’ve seen men before, and I’ve never felt like this or anything even close to it. I’ve never even dreamed I could.
I want to say something crazy, he texts. But I think I should wait until we’re together in person.
You can say it now if you want.
The old anxieties return, fluttering through me as I wonder what he could be hinting at.
No, this has to be in person. The vet’s almost done with Speeder. So it shouldn’t be too much longer.
Give him a kiss from me, I reply.
I will. I want to ask you something about your Dad, Mia, but I don’t want to upset you.
You don’t have to worry. I’m not as fragile as I seem.
I know that. I’m the one who told you you’re tougher than you think you are, remember?
I smile at his words.
So ask away.
He takes a while to respond, giving me time to read through the previous messages, making sure I haven’t dreamt it all up.
But it’s real.
He wants something long-term.
He wants me more because I’m a virgin.
His text arrives, wiping away my smile and introducing darkness into this bright moment.
CHAPTER 18
Killian
I sit outside the room, listening to the vet with Speeder. It’s the same vet we’ve been to countless times.
Her voice soothes Speeder, but he can get slightly confused and skittish if I’m in there too, almost as if he feels guilty for showing so much love to somebody else.
Waiting outside comes with its benefits.
It means I get to text my woman.
She hasn’t responded to my last message.
If your Dad caused you and your Mom so much heartache, why do you want a tattoo to honor him?
I think about adding a note about how I’m not trying to be mean. Maybe the stuff with Emil and Speeder has put an edge on me.
I’ll never forget driving away from Mia’s apartment, my phone on speaker as I called one of my cop buddies, and then seeing Speeder sprinting down the street, black pieces of leather in his mouth that I mistook for an injury at first.
I’m about to type something else when her message appears.
Dad wasn’t all bad. I hope I haven’t made it seem that way. He was ill, paranoid, but sometimes his mood changed and he was the most wonderful person. It was like that when he was giving me driving lessons. Or when we were inventing stories together. Then, he was the most magnetic, loving person ever. I think that’s what I want the tattoo to be about, representing both sides of him.
I get it, I reply. I felt the same about my old man, just as conflicted. I remember him as a madman with a bottle in one hand and his other clenched into a fist. And I also remember how proud he looked when I won my first fight and how he hugged me.
Exactly, it’s just like that, she responds. So, since you won’t tell me this crazy thing… Do you have any ideas for the tattoo?
I sit back, wondering if I should just say it now, the crazy thing.
But it has to be in person.
At least then, it gives her a chance to see how completely serious I’m being.
My creative mind sparks alight, and ideas begin to form.
We could have him in silhouette standing at a large door. On one side – in the foreground – there’s darkness and insecurity. Through the door, there’s light, hope, and possibility… maybe he could even have his hand extended like he’s gesturing you to join him and walk through the door.
Wow, she replies. Did you just think of that? That’s really good!
I grin, and the compliment infusing me lights me up far more than any other client’s compliment ever has.
Yeah, but it’s just a base concept. We can tinker with it.