Stone the Crows by TA Moore

Author:TA Moore [Moore, TA]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: gay romance
ISBN: 978-1-64080-542-2
Publisher: Dreamspinner Press
Published: 2018-05-29T00:00:00+00:00

GREGOR BRACED his hands against the hood of the Land Rover and his boot against the old stone wall. The muscles clenched across his back as he pushed, and the wool of his sweater pulled tight on the shoulders.

The engine screamed under the dented hood as Nick hit the gas, one hand on the wheel and the other white-knuckled around the loose gear shift as he held it in reverse. He could smell the hot metal and burned oil as the car bucked and skewed backward.

He took his eyes off Gregor for a second and glanced over his shoulder. Through the grubby back window he saw snow spin off the tires, all white to start with and then stained with brown as the rubber reached the mud.

It inched back reluctantly, the mud and snow under it stirred into a soup until the back wheels hit the hard-packed tarmac of the yard. It lurched abruptly and Nick cursed in panic as his brain went blank on what to do next.

“Brake,” he blurted at himself after a second. “Take your foot off the gas.”

He did both a second too late, and the back fender of the Land Rover cracked into the wall of the stone byre where they spent the night. The impact jolted him backward, and he just about stopped himself from breaking his neck on the headrest.

“Shit.” He pushed himself back and rubbed his wrists. The windshield was covered with mulch and frost. Nick needed both hands to roll down the side window. It wobbled down halfway and jammed. Nick stuck his head out and winced at the sight of Gregor on his knees in the snow. “Sorry. Are you alright?”

Gregor took a second and then grunted, “Fine.” But he moved as though he hurt as he pushed himself to his feet. With one hand pressed to his stomach, he took a breath, brushed the snow off his knees, and got into the car. “Do you know where we’re going?”

“Yes,” Nick said.

It was mostly true. He knew where to go. The how to get there was a little more dubious. Gregor threw the car into neutral and left the engine running as he scrambled out. In the back of his head Nick tried to work out how strong that made Gregor. Obviously he wasn’t Superman strong or he could have just picked up the car, but to push a Land Rover—an old one that was all metal and weight—out of the mud was still impressive.

The loot they’d cleared out of the old farmhouse was stacked up on the doorstep. Nick felt guilt nip at him for the theft, but they had need, and the farmer wasn’t there. Hadn’t been there, in fact, for a while. Once it was all over, if the Wolves or the prophets didn’t eat them all in their beds, maybe he could pay the man back.

There was a moldy box full of scavenged staples from the kitchen, tins of cheap soup, bags of oats, a tin of Spam that reminded Nick, again, of his gran.

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