Page 93 of Wanted
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 werestrangers. 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.
“Ew, no. What?” Knox repeated, but didn’t shy away from the touch, which made Liv feel all mushy inside. Knox accepted the rabbits but kept them at arm’s length. “Are these… gutted?”
Jag shook his head. “Oh, no, they’re fresh, barely caught. You can prepare them however you like.”
Knox stared at him. “But… I don’t know how to skin a rabbit. Or even cook one.”
Jag looked him up from head to toe. “Why? You should know such things at your age.”
“Right? How are you taking care of your man, Knox?” Liv asked in the most serious tone he could muster with a straight face.
Jag frowned at him. “No.Youare the one who has to make sure your injured mate is fed, even if it’s usually him who cooks. Come by my house tomorrow. I will teach you how to handle rabbits. Otherwise, you’ll just waste them,” he said and snatched the animals from Knox’s hand.
Liv wanted to laugh it off, but hearing it put that way made his ears burn with shame. Of course he’d be taking care of Knox. How was that something to be questioned? “Um, okay, sure,” Liv said, even though the last thing he wanted was to handle blood and guts when they had a perfectly nice meal in the fridge, courtesy of Ezra.
Still, it was kind of Jag to think of them. Odd as he was, he did have a heart somewhere under his armor of scrap and leather.
Knox straightened. “I want to learn how to gut a rabbit too. The least I can do is cook more in the coming days.”
Liv’s heart warmed all over. Even now, Knox wanted to pull his weight, and while Liv would rather he rested in bed all day and eat Ezra’s stew, he knew his man was far too stubborn to be dissuaded.
As far as Liv was concerned, Knox could get whatever the hell he wished for. And if he dreamed of learning how to cook a rabbit, then Liv would skin the little beast with his teeth as long as Knox agreed to go through with the surgery.
