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By the time he got home, two miles away, his feet were cut up and a bloody mess, just like his face.
After letting himself into the basement door at the rear of the house, he quickly locked it behind him and leaned back against it. He took a few seconds to catch his breath, to try to slow the pounding of his heart. He wouldn’t be surprised if his parents could hear his heartbeat all the way in their room on the second floor.
He struggled to smother his scream as he relived in his head what just happened, realizing it wasn’t a fucking nightmare at all.
Well, it was, but not the kind he would wake up from.
Thank fuck his parents had let him move into the basement last year. This way they wouldn’t see his busted-up face right away.
He stumbled into his bathroom and glanced in the mirror over the sink.
Holy shit.
How the hell was he going to avoid having his parents see him like this? He couldn’t hide how fucked up his face was. He needed to think of a good excuse for his appearance. He would have two black eyes. The right one was already swollen shut and turning a dark purple.
Running the water in the sink, he washed it as best as he could, trying to ignore the throbbing, the sharp pain and the burning as he scrubbed off the blood and put some butterfly bandages over the worst cuts, like the one seeping under his right eye.
He grabbed toilet paper off the roll and shoved wads of it up both nostrils to try to stop the bleeding. The pain was so damn unbearable, he almost blacked out.
After stripping off his bloody shirt and jeans, he buried them at the bottom of his overflowing hamper and quickly dug through his dresser to find clean shorts and a T-shirt.
Once he managed to pull them on, he climbed into bed.
He wanted to close his eyes but with the way the adrenaline was still rushing through him, he knew he’d never find sleep tonight. Especially with his body shaking and his teeth chattering.
Worse, if he closed his eyes, he’d keep seeing the side of that fucker’s head after being struck with the metal poker.
He’d only defended himself. He was forced to do it. That guy would’ve killed him without a damn thought. Ethan could see it in his eyes. The uncontrollable rage.
No pussy was worth that. None.
And definitely none was worth jail time or even dying.
Especially that selfish fucking bitch.
It was all her goddamn fault.
She caused it all.
She should be the one to pay. Not Ethan.
It didn’t take long until the pounding came at their front door. He wasn’t surprised that it happened but just how soon it did.
He could hear his parents’ voices and footsteps as they came down from their bedroom.
Don’t open the door.
Please, don’t open the damn door.
Voices. Not his mom or dad’s. Men. More than one.
Then his mom and dad’s.
Lots of talking.
He couldn’t make out the words, they all blended together. But he didn’t have to know what was being said.
His heart was now thumping in his throat as the door from the kitchen to the basement opened and boots descended the steps. Not one set. No. Multiple.
Not cautiously, but with determination.
Shit.
He would go to jail for murder and never get out. He would die behind bars.
He’d never smell fresh air again.
He’d never enjoy pussy again.
He’d never graduate high school.
Then everything happened in a whirlwind.
Ethan was dragged out of bed.
Pulled to his feet.
Spun around and cuffed. His arms practically yanked from his shoulders.
They were all talking but he didn’t know what they were saying.
Words. Too many words.
He couldn’t stop his brain from spinning to figure out those words.
He just knew his life was over.
It was over.
He couldn’t undo his fuck-up.
He couldn’t go back and stay at the fire pit with his friends.
He couldn’t tell Ben he didn’t want to hang out at Landry’s.
He couldn’t go back and wake up all over again to start the day over.
It was too late.
Too late.
He’d never forget seeing the disappointment in his father’s eyes. Or seeing his mother’s face with her eyes wide and her hand covering her mouth. Tears streaming down her ghost-white cheeks as the cops dragged him up the steps and out of the house.
He never once stepped foot into that house again.
Chapter One
The bunkhouse was so damn quiet at this time of night that the slide of her clothes over her soft skin sounded deafening.
Without windows, his room was pitch black. All he had was his imagination of how she looked naked after those clothes fell to the floor at her feet. Standing there with her long hair loose and falling around her shoulders like a dark cape.
With one arm tucked behind his head on his pillow, his other hand was fisted around his cock, pumping it slowly.
