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)
And while Liv had attempted to learn how to deal with ice under the wheels by reading up on it, talking to people, and visualizing dangerous situations during the race, it was all theoretical. If nothing changed, he wouldn’t have any real experience by judgment day.
Knox was sick to his stomach just thinking about the risk of Liv’s getting into a serious crash, but he knew better than to try swaying Liv’s plans and instead focused on helping him rest by keeping the house in good condition, making sure they had nice food to eat, and giving Liv all the attention he needed in the very rare moments when he allowed himself to do nothing.
Which wasn’t often.
So tonight, Knox was making him stay home. He’d called the MC and secretly arranged a night off for him. In the past few days, he’d restored a massive old barbecue grill and he’d be treating all their friends and Liv to as many rabbits and rabbit burgers as they could eat. Ezra had offered to cook the turkey, and he was bringing it straight from his fancy oven within the next hour. Which was a blessing not only because it would surely be delicious, but because Knox didn’t have the money to buy enough meat for ten people. He did make a whole pot of potato mash though, and the other guys were each bringing something to the Thanksgiving feast. Jag had helped Knox set up a simple tent above the tables taken from one of the many piles of discarded furniture, so they’d be fine in case of rain.
All planned behind Liv’s back.
Unless, of course, Dex didn’t manage to keep his big mouth shut, but that was out of Knox’s hands. If Liv knew about the preparations, he didn’t let it show when he left for his first shift early in the morning.
It had been hours since, and now that it got dark, Frank and Dane, Jag’s mate, had erected a massive bonfire that made the cold a bit more bearable. They could have all gathered in Frank’s home, or Shane’s, but it was Thanksgiving and Knox wanted all the guys to feel his gratitude. Besides, meat grilled over charcoal was Liv’s favorite food, and since this was a special day, and Liv’s first whole evening off in a month, that was exactly what he’d get.
Knox checked the temperature of the coals by hovering his hand above them before glancing at the meat marinating in many Tupperware containers. Liv had already let him know he was coming over for dinner soon, which meant it was time to get on with the grilling.
He still couldn’t believe some days that this really was his life. Sure, he was still wanted by the cops, still struggled with a heart condition, and barely had any money to his name, but he had Liv. Liver Polk was his boyfriend and wasn’t afraid to show it in every touch and cuddle even when they were too tired for an elaborate fuck session. It worked. Felt natural. And Knox would work his ass off to make sure their relationship worked out.
“You caught all these?” Jag asked, sneaking up on him.
Knox stood a bit taller. “Yep, used the traps the way you showed me.” The killing was another matter. He couldn’t make himself do it and, in the end, had taken the traps to Frank.
Jag’s head bobbed as he gave a fervent nod before tightening the folds of his fur coat, complete with a cape of squirrel tails. “I didn’t think you had it in you. But you’re a faster learner than anyone here.” He narrowed his eyes and looked back at their friends, who sat huddled together, chatting about something Dane needed to get on Black Friday. “Ros told me trapping rabbits is cruel. Well, he sure doesn’t have a problem eating them, does he?”
Knox laughed. “At least these bunnies had a good life and a quick death. I never thought I’d be catching my own food, but it feels good. Junkyard to table.”
Jag put his hands on his hips, as if he were the overseer of Knox’s grilling. “My father taught me how to do these things. It’s important to know how to survive in the wild.”
Seemed it was important even when not in the wild when one had as little cash as Liv and Knox.
“My dad never taught me anything like this. Only helped me train kickboxing, but he got more punches in than me.”
Jag hummed, watching Knox with a frown. “Did you have to fight for food?”
Knox snorted. “Only with Liv.”
“Not anymore,” Jag said, gesturing at the meat. “Where I’m from, sometimes we had plenty of food, but my father would only give out so many rations. To build character and make us more determined to hunt and forage. If you didn’t pull your weight, you didn’t eat.”