Total pages in book: 157
Estimated words: 145088 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 725(@200wpm)___ 580(@250wpm)___ 484(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 145088 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 725(@200wpm)___ 580(@250wpm)___ 484(@300wpm)
Frank had then stopped washing the dishes and made Dex do it for him.
Dex deserved his uncle’s anger, but was still relieved when Frank left the house to let off some steam at his outdoor gym. By the time Frank’s routine progressed from walking with a weighted yoke to flipping massive tyres, Dex took a long hot shower, and thoroughly washed the dirt out of his hair, which was a pain because of the problems with his shoulder. He then gave up on his attempt to mend the sleeve of his jacket halfway through the task.
Finally clean, he fell into his bed and switched off as if he’d not slept in days. He ended up getting up in the afternoon, following a dream about Bandit choking on a pacemaker. He’d sweated so much into the sheets after that nightmare another shower was necessary, but once that was done, it dawned on Dex that Hammer might be visiting them later, and he got into a cleaning frenzy hindered by the state of his arm.
He didn’t want to think about the possibility of Hammer not wanting to see him much from now on, but it buzzed at the back of his mind like a fly he couldn’t swat. Sure, he’d saved Hammer from the other bikers, and had felt like a hero at the time, but he didn’t want a pity-fuck from a guy who had so many club hangarounds to pick from. He wanted that kiss again. Real, raw, and yet so tender and unlike utilitarian kisses with men who didn’t matter.
Worries that he’d been only an experiment to Hammer had sent Dex into a spiral of destructive fantasies in which he put people he hated into that meat grinder alive, so he ended up putting on a horror movie he remembered having a scene like that. In the end though, once he realized, there wasn’t much more he could do to improve the shabby interior in his current state, he sat back on the sofa and switched on a gory horror movie featuring scenes reminiscent of his earlier fantasies.
At least it was something to take his mind off—
The familiar roar of a motorcycle made him rise like Dracula from his coffin as soon as the sun set. With his heart beating in alarm, he dashed to the bathroom, brushed back the few hairs that remained out of place, smelled his pits, and then added more of the jasmine perfume.
A part of him worried Hammer might not come over after having so much time to think things through, yet the timing suggested it couldn’t be anyone else, and Dex checked his phone for the nth time that day. He had gotten some more Grindr messages since getting the device back, but he'd ignored them and spent all day hoping Hammer might give him a call. That hadn’t happened, but maybe Hammer didn’t even have his number.
Now that Dex was thinking about it, he did not have Hammer’s either—a mistake that needed to be promptly corrected.
The bike stopped outside just as he left the bathroom, but when shouts erupted from the front of the house, Dex dashed onto the porch to see Frank’s broad form blocking Hammer’s way in the faint moonlight.
“I ask you again to leave my property. If your club wasn’t on such good terms with me, I’d be holding my shotgun, so don’t force my hand!”
Hammer’s gaze rose to meet Dex’s over Frank’s arm. His dark hair shone in the faint glow from above, and his broad shoulders were like a wordless invitation into his arms. “I’ve been invited.”
“Yeah, Frank! I invited him for dinner, so we can talk, and work out some sort of ceasefire.” He smiled but nerve bugs were eating up his stomach.
Frank shot him a glare. “‘Dinner’? At my house? With my food?”
Dex swallowed. “Er… No, I was planning to make us something from my stash.”
“Instant ramen?” Frank shook his head, making his long braid snap like a scorpion’s tail. But it was his words that stung, making Dex feel like an idiot. They’d been in town. He should have bought something better.
“Yeah, it’s gonna be great. I’ll add hot sauce and all that.”
Shane chose this moment to roll onto the scene like a prince in shining armor saving him from this humiliating interrogation, though instead of riding a white horse, he sat behind the wheel of his old Mustang. The guy had a nose for gossip and ate up drama for breakfast, yet would deny it if asked. The opportunity offered by Hammer’s visit must have been too tempting to pass on. Dex wouldn’t be surprised if the bastard had been waiting somewhere close and only moved once he spotted the motorcycle heading for the house.
“Hi Frank! Is this a bad time?” Shane asked, shutting his door and approaching Hammer, as if he hadn’t kept him cuffed to a metal pillar just this morning.