Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 79244 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 396(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79244 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 396(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
Yes. I know. No need to rub it in. And if I had the chance to take part, I would have done just as well, if not better than Titus. I’m the hitman for the Van der Horns. The one sent to take care of the toughest jobs. Given half the chance, I would be the one presenting my father with the heads of our enemies and then placing their skulls in our trophy room.
Do I really need to have a wife for that?
Is that really the thing that would prove my worth to everyone?
“Food for thought,” Father says as two guys wearing jeans and nothing else step outside, laughing in response to the cold that has their nips perking up.
“You’re the patriarch now. You can change the rules,” I say, leaning against the wall while the men chuckle, drinking beer as they whisper to each other.
Father laughs. “So everyone says I’m coddling my son? Not a chance, Damen. We’ll see each other in two days. Your mother is preparing a welcome feast for the ages, so don’t be late.”
I exhale, squeezing the phone almost too firmly, but moments later, the call ends, and I’m left with a bucketful of things I want to growl straight in my father’s face yet somehow never do.
Maybe because I know he just wouldn’t treat any of it seriously.
I consider smoking to gather my thoughts, but the guys nearby seem to be looking my way as if they’re about to attempt some small talk. I’m not in the mood for what will surely end up as an offer to take part in a threesome, so I walk back inside.
The club’s interior is rough around the edges and looks more like a place for connoisseurs of alternative music than your typical gay venue, but it doesn’t make any attempts to hide what it is. I like that about Thirteen. It’s raw. Real. With a mix of unhinged pop-metal and indie band songs, depending on the DJ. Though ‘DJ’ is a bit of a stretch, as the music is controlled by the bartender, and you can tell. It’s always too loud, and the heavy beat is only good for fucking and dancing drunk, but I appreciate the clientele it draws in.
I shouldn’t feel at ease here in the immaculate suit I had made to measure out of smooth midnight blue wool, but with this place being so very at odds with the life I live in daylight, it’s become my refuge. All the staff know me, and my order, and at this point they’ve even resorted to keeping my favorite brand of bourbon, to ensure I don’t stray.
I wouldn't be caught dead in ripped jeans just to fit in, but I rather like them on the kind of men I enjoy spending time with, both in and out of bed. Though after my last boyfriend fiasco I usually don’t look for more than a fuck.
It’s hard to keep a partner when I can’t disclose much about my job or family. Sooner or later, the questions that come up force me to either lie or admit to keeping secrets. It’s what I tried last time with Henry. Told him I work for a detective agency and therefore can’t tell him much, but he wasn’t having it, and we needed to split up.
Tonight, I just want to fuck some anger out of my veins.
The farther I walk down the narrow corridor wallpapered with various posters and stickers, the denser the air gets, and by the time I reach the main room, I’m breathing in sweat, booze, cheap cologne, and the fumes of someone’s fruity vape. Most of the surfaces are black, and I imagine the interior must look drab in daylight, but the colorful lighting effects transform this cave of contemporary mating rituals into something that brings me peace despite all the chaos and noise. Maybe it’s because Thirteen is as far removed from my family home as humanly possible.
My unresolved family issues might also be the reason for the men I choose.
I look like I own a yacht. They look as though they’d write Eat the rich on the side of my boat. And yet things between us usually work out for a while. I like the challenge of breaking an unruly wild horse.
I sit down in my booth with a drink in hand. It’s the perfect spot to observe the men on offer tonight, and quiet enough to hear a conversation. Call me vain, but with a face like mine, only men painfully loyal to their partners would turn me down. If it’s not my wide shoulders and confidence that lures them in, it’s the long eyelashes and beauty spots. I’m like a shark when I go in for the kill. I just need to find my prey.