Total pages in book: 145
Estimated words: 135792 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 679(@200wpm)___ 543(@250wpm)___ 453(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 135792 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 679(@200wpm)___ 543(@250wpm)___ 453(@300wpm)
“You are the best… cook.”
Ezra’s gaze settled on him, heavy like a hammer to punish him for being a smartass, but he didn’t bother to say anything and just shushed them away.
Liv knew why Knox had found it hard to choose the right words. Both of them had spent most of their lives having to fend for themselves and even helping their parents with things no child should. And sure, girlfriends would occasionally treat them to a home-cooked meal, but they never got these kind of treats, packed lunches, or their fridge stocked for free.
Ezra would have killed Liv if he said it out loud, but it was a very mom-like thing to do. Almost as if Ezra was the kind of mother figure neither of them ever had. A part of Liv didn’t think they deserved being treated with such kindness, but he was smart enough not to let it show and acted as if they both needed a bit of fussing over.
“Make sure to do everything the doctor told you, or it will all be for nothing,” Frank said as he reached their trailer and rolled out of the seat with a suitcase in hand. By the time Liv and Knox both left the vehicle, Frank had rested the open suitcase in the truck bed. Liv’s blood went a bit colder when he spotted two guns and a selection of ammo, but Frank spoke before he could have voiced any of his apprehension.
“Ideally, you won’t need those, but I think at this point it’s quite obvious they may come in handy. We’ll do some training. Liv, starting tomorrow, Knox once his shoulder’s better.”
Knox stepped closer, a bit too interested in the guns for Liv’s liking. “Like, you’ll do target practice with us?”
“Yep. It’s a skill worth having, even if you don’t use it much. You have to be able to feel confident with a gun to protect yourself or others.”
When Liv thought back to shooting that guy in the leg, he remembered being nervous, but a single glance at Knox told Liv he’d do anything to protect that blond head. Sure, Knox could take care of himself. Despite being smaller, he was the more proficient fighter, but Liv would never let him fight alone.
By the time he and Knox left the vehicle in front of their own home, questions about the work he’d need to do that day pushed at the back of his mouth, but he chose to not voice them, and Frank left without mentioning any jobs either.
It was so damn weird.
This guy was a career criminal, and while it made sense that he took care of his life partner and friends, Liv and Knox were strangers. Frank had known them for less than a month, yet instead of using their situation against them, he left Liv to take care of Knox and decompress. Granted, that state of affairs would end by tomorrow, but it was still more leeway than Liv had gotten from any other employer.
“So that was… generous,” he muttered, embracing Knox from behind and burying his face in his wavy hair. It was already a bit longer than Knox usually wore it, and Liv rather liked the new look.
“That’s how you build gang loyalty,” Knox laughed.
“And where does that leave us?” Liv asked, gently pushing Knox forward, until he had him sandwiched between his own body and the trailer. Warmth radiated from the tanned nape, and Liv moved his nose lower to nuzzle it while the breeze swished between the mounds of scrap.
Knox flexed his back. “As hot gangsters—”
Air got trapped in Liv’s throat when someone slinked out from behind the trailer, and they both raised their new guns.
But it was only Jag, who frowned at them in disbelief. “I’m not an enemy.”
Dressed in worn boots and a hooded coat made of thick fur, he raised his hand, showing off two dead rabbits, like some trapper from the Old West, who’d somehow, arrived at the junkyard from the past.
Liv frowned and lowered his weapon as his hand wandered across Knox’s back. “Why were you creeping around?” he asked, unsure what to make of the dead animals dangled in front of him.
Jag came closer, presenting the rabbits. “I heard you have nothing, so I thought I’d bring these for you.”
Liv cleared his throat, unhappy with being seen as lacking when he was perfectly capable of taking care of Knox. “I wouldn’t exactly say ‘nothing’.”
“Well, the winters can get cold here. The rabbits not only feed you but can be a good source of fur—”
“What?” Knox stared at the weirdo as if he grew a second head but calmly put away the new gun.
Liv smirked. “For your rabbit fur briefs, Knoxie. Just think how soft they’ll be,” he said, letting his fingers glide to Knox’s nape, and then into his hair, because he needed to comfort himself. The fear of losing him was still fresh, and he fought against intrusive thoughts about things that, fortunately, did not happen.