All I can think of to do is toss my head from side to side. To still me, he grabs my hair with one hand, and with the other he pulls my wrists over my head, pinning them to the damp ground.
“This’ll go easier for you if you behave, pretty boy,” he teases before his lips again devour mine.
When I can finally manage to twist my head to the side, my belly heaves, but all I bring up is spit. Though sickened and worn, my struggle rekindles when his fingers find my crotch, and I understand just what he has in mind. He rips down the zipper of my shorts, and then yanks them and my boxers to my knees. With surprising composure, he smooths his hand over my belly and groin. “Your skin is silky, just like I knew it would be.”
He then flips me over like I’m a child’s doll, and my fighting spirit returns in full force. “Don’t do this…” My kicking doesn’t help.
“I’m gonna do what I want now that I got you alone. You might even like it.”
He spits a few times and drives several fingers between my ass cheeks. I hear myself beg. “Please, Dale, don’t do this!” And then his bruising weight is just…gone. The probing fingers disappear. He no longer breathes into my ear. In fact, it’s obscenely quiet, and I’m incredibly aware of my naked‐ness. My need for modesty compels me, so before I think to pray or call for help, I yank up my shorts. Only then do I release the air bursting from my lungs—the breath I’ve held on to since I was dragged into the alley.
“You’re fuckin’ dead.” Not Dale’s voice. But one I know well. Bodie’s here… “Get the hell outta here, cowboy!”
I close my eyes in an effort to block out the world. Too bad life doesn’t work that way.
“Shut. The. Fuck. Up.” And then the sound of fists meeting flesh. Pounding and pounding. And soon a coppery smell. Blood.
“B-bodie?” My voice erupts as a mere rasp.
The sounds of a brutal beating stop. “I’m sorry,” he says. Strong arms lift me from the ground and carry me. I don’t ask where we’re going. I don’t much care. I just want to be out of this alley. Across the planet from Dale, if possible. Far from the excruciating pain and the smell of blood and the debilitating fear.
“I’m sorry—I should’ve taken care of you first.”
“It’s all right.” Damp and terrified, my shivering is out of control.
“This ain’t all right.” His breathing is more labored than mine.
“Set me on my feet, Bodie. I can stand.”
He hesitates while considering my request, but ultimately complies. “Can you hang on to me on the back of the bike? Do you have the strength?”
“I-I think so.”
He leads me to the parking lot behind Surf’s Up where his Harley is parked. “Let me help you get on.”
“Bodie, you can’t leave the bar. G-go back inside and tell Mika I’m sick. I’ll take an Uber home.”
“Fuck that.” He helps me to climb onto the bike and then carefully mounts in front of me. “Put your arms around me, Ollie.”
Jude Munro, very briefly Mia Kerick’s adult gay romance pen
name, writes fictional characters in her adult gay romance novels who
are drawn to the beach. They’ve sunbathed on the sands of many
alluring East Coast beaches, along with the fantastical beaches in
Jude’s books. They’ll answer questions like “Who do you think
you are, the sun god?” (which they often resemble)ifthey can hear
you over “Boys of Summer” cranking on their headphones. To
most of Jude’s men, no shoes and no shirt is reallynot a
problem. But even on the sunniest of beach days, the guys in Jude’s
books dohave problems… as in, serious relationship issues.
Many of which seem insurmountable. And each character must earn his
day at the beach. (Yes, there is always a HEA).
As Mia Kerick, this author’s books have been featured in Kirkus
Reviews magazine. They won a 2019 IPPY GOLD award, a 2018 YA GOLD
MOONBEAM, a YA Readers’ Favorite Award, several first place Rainbow
Awards, a Reader Views’ Book by Book Publicity Literary Award, the
Jack Eadon Award for Best Book in Contemporary Drama, a YA Indie Fab
Award, a First Place Royal Dragonfly Award, a First Place Story
Monsters Purple Dragonfly Award, and a YA category finalist for the
Eric Hoffer award, and more.