He pushes me away, and I stumble and fall to the floor. I stare up at him, his flaccid dick hanging limply between his big thighs.
“Just remember your place, boy. If it weren’t for me, you’d be nothing. A nobody. A little orphan boy with no mommy or daddy,” he sneers, but his expression suddenly changes, his rage dissipating in seconds. He swallows, guilt filling his features. “Just get out of my sight,” he says, his voice thick with emotion, shame flaring on his cheeks. He pulls his hands through his hair and turns away from me. “Don’t speak of this to anyone.”
I jump up and run.
I know where I’m going as soon as my feet hit the ground outside the house. I’m going to see Patience. It’s the same place I visit every time I need to find peace.
By the time I arrive at her house, I’m soaked from the rain and out of breath, the damp patch on my pants no longer visible. A crack of thunder and lightning illuminates her house and I run harder.
I see a light on in her window and throw a stone up at it like I do every time. Seconds later, she looks out at me with a frown before nodding and turning away.
It’s raining even harder now, and I stand under the large beech tree in her backyard to stay dry. I watch as she comes outside, glancing left and right for me. I whistle to get her attention. She closes the door quietly behind her and runs through the rain to me. By the time she’s travelled the short distance, she’s soaked too. Her thin cotton nighty clinging to her body.
“What is it?” she asks, wrapping her arms around herself to keep warm. Her dark eyes look me over, small frown lines pulling between her eyebrows. “Are you okay?” she reaches over to touch my cheek her eyes showing sincere concern. I guess there’s a mark from where my father has hit me.
“I’m fine, I just wanted to see you,” I say, wondering why I’ve really come here.
Patience is my friend. My confident.
I never told her about the things my father had said that night, and we never talked about my grandfather or any of the cruel nannies that came in to our home and treated us unkindly. She’s just Patience, and I’m just Samuel. We’re friends—she’s my only friend.
But standing under the beech tree, both of us wet from the rain, I see something in Patience I’ve never seen before. A spark of something as she pulls off her glasses to wipe the rain away from the lenses. As she goes to slide them back on, I reach out and touch her arm, stilling her, thoughts of her mother’s cunt still vivid in my head.
“What is it?” she asks, concern flushing her cheeks.
I step closer to her, needing her body heat. I’m trembling from the cold, desire still burning in my gut. I’d come to tell her about her whore of a mother, but now that I’m here, it seems irrelevant. I reach out, wrapping a hand around the back of her neck, and gently pull her to me.
She whimpers automatically, leaning into me like I’m the sun and she’s ice melting to my touch, her dark eyes wary but full of hope. I swallow before placing my mouth on hers and kissing her hard.
I can feel her braces.
I can feel her tongue.
I can feel her body rigid next to mine.
But mostly, I can feel something I’ve never felt before. Need. Desire. Urgency. And something else that feels good. Something that isn’t fear.
I feel powerful.
I feel in control.
I run my hands over her body, my pants tightening as my palm moves over her ass and she groans in my mouth as I squeeze. My dick is hard in my pants and I press myself against her, desperate to hear the sounds her mother had made for my father come from her mouth.
Patience suddenly pulls out of the kiss and steps back from me. “Samuel?” she says, my name a whisper on her pink lips. “What’s wrong?”
I fold my arms across my chest, scared of the weird feelings I’m having and embarrassed by the way my wet pants cling to my heavy erection. Her eyes are closed, her lashes thick and dark against her pale skin. She slowly opens her eyes, and it feels like she sees me, the real me.
The frightened boy.
The boy who just wants love and affection.
The boy with no mother.
The murderer.
The boy who’s so fucking confused by what he saw tonight, he feels sick to his stomach, yet equally turned on.
And it scares the shit out of me.
