Total pages in book: 179
Estimated words: 165476 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 827(@200wpm)___ 662(@250wpm)___ 552(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 165476 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 827(@200wpm)___ 662(@250wpm)___ 552(@300wpm)
Ned sighed and passed him the wet rag. “I’m just sayin’. Don’t expect Doc to help you out after talking like that to his girl.”
“I thought him a stronger man, but she bewitched him like any other fellow. Joke’s on him,” Scotch said, clumsily rubbing the blood off his face while the stew simmered loudly on the nearby fire. “You know, he used to be smarter about this. We only have one life, and we should take whatever we want from it, not stay on a bitch’s beck and call, just because she smells good in heat.”
A witty answer to curb Scotch’s tongue got stuck at the back of Ned’s throat when he thought back to the fresh scent that clung to Cole’s flesh and hair as he’d emerged from the lake. The moss around them hadn’t stifled the unadulterated arousal oozing off Cole as he’d rocked his hips on top of Ned, bewitching him with every thrust.
“What did you do this time, old goat?” Tom asked, startling Ned as he appeared between the wagons out of nowhere, his brown curls parted at the top of his head as if they were hiding twin horns.
Scotch shook his head, but Tom scooted in front of him and pulled the stubbly chin up. Light caught the prematurely-aged features, revealing Scotch’s nose to be slightly crooked, with the flesh around it swelling fast.
“Still running after someone else’s girl, like in the old days? You’re not that young anymore,” Tom said and presented Scotch with a piece of raw meat.
A waste of good food on a man that ugly both inside and out, but Ned remained silent, because Tom’s presence still made him tense. Even now, with the cleaver tattoo marking him as Tom’s brother in arms, he couldn’t shake off the unease of being around the person who’d robbed him of the life he deserved.
Scotch shrugged. “Can’t blame a man for his curiosity. Why she gotta wear those pants, eh? Tight on her rump and teasing me.”
“You know the rules, Scotch. If we want the ladies loyal and generous, they can’t feel like prey. And keep your hands off my wives, no matter how curious you are,” Tom said, rising to his feet with a low exhale. “Sometimes, I wonder whether our lives on the road wouldn’t have been easier without the women, but they make things so much more interesting. We need them even on nights when the brothel’s nearby,” he said and slapped Ned’s shoulder.
Ned had heard Tom boast that he’d never rape a woman and even respected them as long as they listened and knew their place. That he’d rather kill a woman who deserved it than tarnish her that way. Which was infuriating to hear as Ned had witnessed the monster commit the exact crime he claimed his creed didn’t allow him to. Even Cole had repeated the lie to Ned in a bid to convince him of Tom’s virtue.
“Does it… ever worry you that bigamy is illegal?” Ned asked in a small voice, hoping the honest question wouldn’t agitate Tom. “What would happen if you ever chose to settle down?”
Tom and Scotch exchanged glances before breaking into bellowing laughter.
“Worried? What… why would I be worried? When I’m too old for this, I’ll live with my Pearl and Lotta, if I still want them, and maybe take in another pretty thing or two. Better live a short life than a sad one. Isn’t that right, old friend?” Tom asked Scotch, who coughed, nodding.
“It fucking hurts when I laugh. I’ll need a nice measure of booze to soothe the swelling.”
Tom shook his head and passed Scotch a small green bottle. “You’ll never change old friend, will you?”
Scotch grinned before taking a gulp. “Just like you said. You only live once, so you gotta reach for that sweet ripe fruit, even if it hurts. Even if there’s dogs in that manger and a fence around it. Get that ripe peach, O’Leary, or your pecker will fall off from disuse.”
Ned groaned but blood thudded through his veins like mad, because Scotch had no idea how badly Ned wanted to taste the sweet juices of a very particular forbidden fruit. “Don’t you worry about me.”
Tom waved his hand and slid his arm under Scotch’s as if the man’s fetid stench didn’t bother him in the slightest. Perhaps he’d gotten used to it in the overcrowded tenements of Gotham. “You may go. I’ll take care of the dumb bastard.”
Ned didn’t want to wait until Tom changed his plans and walked off so fast he almost collided with Zeb, who pushed Ned away in an effort to protect a couple of wild flowers held in a sweaty hand. A present for Bertha, no doubt. “Watch where you’re going, boy!”
Ned mumbled an apology to the brutal mountain of muscle because he didn’t want to get on Zeb’s bad side again, and rushed to his tent. Once there, he lit a kerosene lamp and set it on the ground, because barely any light from the bonfire reached his shadowy corner. He still hadn’t unpacked, too busy with chores a fresh recruit needed to do, washing himself… watching Cole clean every bit of his body....