Page 52 of Bullets and Blood
“You suicidal dickhead!”he shouted.Then he forced himself to breathe.
The pressure in the roof of his mouth felt as if he was growing fangs, ready to tear someone a new one.He wasn’t, but the mechanism was there, ready to be used should he ever get blooded.
If he didn’t show up, his family would send someone to hunt him down.He was doomed no matter what.Nix was being a hero for no reason.
First, he had to walk out of here, then he had a few phone calls to make.He patted his pocket.His wallet was in the car.
Fuck me.
He gazed up at the stars wishing they had the answers.He needed to get better taste in men.This is why he stuck to random hook ups with humans.Hook ups never messed up his life.Baggage stayed safely stowed and he never had to deal with a relationship that was never going to work.
He stalked down the track toward the main road, alternately cursing Nix and stressing about him facing his aunt alone.He didn’t want to think about him being hurt and in pain, but those thoughts kept pushing their way through.
Parked at the intersection was his car.He jogged over, but it was empty, the keys tossed on the floor and his wallet on the passenger seat.He opened the glove box.His cheap phone was there.He pulled it out and kissed it.
The worry that had been a knot in his gut loosened.He could do this.
All he had to do was rescue his boyfriend so he could be the one to kill him.
ChapterThirty
Nix satin the truck with the window cracked and the breeze on his face, so he didn’t have to smell the dried sweat on the truckie.
While Nix knew he didn’t smell all that delightful, even though he’d changed his clothes, he had an excuse and the bite marks on his ass to prove it.The seats in the truck were extremely uncomfortable on his bruised ass, but he’d do it all again in a heartbeat because he’d much rather be in Lance’s hands than anyone else’s.A small smile formed as he remembered the way Lance had felt on top of him.
The truckie kept glancing at him.Nix hadn’t shaved in three days, and that, coupled with the bruises on his jaw and forehead and the grazes on his knuckles—and other places the man couldn’t see—did suggest that he’d been having a rough time.Explaining that he’d enjoyed every moment was far too difficult.
If the truckie asked or said one wrong word Nix was going to slam the man’s head into the steering wheel and toss his body out the door.Much more satisfying than ensorcelling him.Sometimes he hated looking eighteen.As if sensing the hostility, the man returned his attention to the road.
Two more hours to go.He’d be in Albany with time to spare.
One of the phones in his bag pinged.
He rummaged in the front pocket until he grabbed the right one, his phone.
The message was a string of emojis that indicated Lance was awake and livid.
He deserved that.But Lance needed to stay away.He didn’t reply.
His phone pinged again while he was holding it.
A red love heart.
Nix winced.He doubted very much that meant Lance still loved him.Hopefully, it meant he’d gone to the Reids and that they’d keep him safe.That was one less thing to worry about.He was on his own.He dropped his phone back into his bag.
“Your parents want you home?”
Nix shot him a glare.He wasn’t a teenager, no matter how he looked.Curse his mother for being so traditional.She could’ve let all her sons go to uni and age up a bit; it wasn’t the eighteen hundreds anymore.He had argued and lost, but he was sure he’d only lost because of the broken peace talks.Everything went back to that.Killing the man responsible hadn’t made him feel any better.
No death had ever made him feel good.
“I’m twenty-seven, mate.Old enough to live my own life.”Yet he never had.He’d had to fight for everything he wanted, and he gave up when it got too hard.Life shouldn’t be a constant battle.His mouth turned down.
“You’re still somebody’s kid.”
He’d never known his father all he knew was his last name had been Nixon—his mother liked all the old traditions.“My family is dead.I’m no one’s.”Not even Lance’s.He’d have liked to have been Lance’s boyfriend without the truce, and give being with him a proper try.
“I have kids.There’s always someone who cares.”
