Secrets 9

“Sean, you gotta wake up soon, kid. It’s almost getting’ dark outside.”

My eyes opened. I didn’t know where I was. It took me a few moments to realize that I was lying in a bed, staring up at a ceiling. My head hurt a little. I shifted my eyes in the direction of the voice, and saw Kevin standing at the side of the bed, completely naked, and more than half-hard, looking at me, with his arms crossed, and wearing an arrogant smile on his face. Orange sunlight streamed through the window and illuminated Kevin’s ferociously muscular body, and all the intricate tattoos that decorated his beautiful skin.

“You’ve been out for half the day,” Kevin said to me. 

I opened my mouth to talk, but it felt almost as if my lips had been glued together. It took me a while to adjust. “Where’s Patrick?” I asked.

Kevin sat on the edge of the bed. “He’s downstairs. In the kitchen I think.”

Slowly, I sat up in bed. I was naked underneath the sheets. I had remembered putting on my clothes before, but now they were off again. It was uncomfortable to be so close to Kevin, when he was naked, and I was naked, and I didn’t know a single thing about him. And even though his body was amazing, even though his face was even more amazing, I didn’t want to be near him. 

“No need to be afraid of me,” Kevin said.

“I’m not.”

“You look like it.”

“Where’s Patrick?” I asked again.

“I told you, Patrick’s downstairs. He’ll be back up here in a minute.”

Kevin inched closer to me and my heartbeat doubled in speed. I curled my hands into fists. I wasn’t planning on punching him or anything, but something told me I should be aware of what he might try to do. Kevin laughed, easily seeing my nervousness. “Of all people, I’m the last person you should be worried about hurting you.” He rolled onto his stomach, lying completely on the left side of the bed. We were a lot closer to each other than I would’ve liked us to be. I wanted Patrick to be here. I didn’t know why he left me alone with this man. Yet at the same time, I couldn’t help but to gawk at Kevin’s body. 

He had the ideal physical shape that most guys craved: the powerful, large, muscular arms, the solid, rock-hard back, the perfect, round bubble butt, legs made out of steel. His body was almost too extraordinary—and he knew it. He was aware of my eyes on his hot body, he was aware of my desire not to look at him, but my inability not to. Kevin smiled, and his teeth were brilliantly white and perfect. He was almost unreal…

“Did you dream about anything?” Kevin asked. I felt one of his large hands slip underneath the blanket and touch my stomach. I gasped when I felt his warm fingers on my navel, softly brushing the hairs that led down to my dick, which, against my will, was rapidly growing hard, and causing me to pitch a tent underneath the blanket. 

“I’m still trying to figure out if this is all a dream,” I responded. Kevin’s hand moved further down my body, and he was circling his index finger around my pubes, and my dick was throbbing and waiting desperately to be touched. I wanted Patrick to come back into the room, but at the same time, I still wanted Kevin to touch me. Kevin carefully wrapped his hand around my cock and gave it a tight, hard squeeze. He grabbed hold of my balls and started to massage them gently. I closed my eyes for a few seconds, losing myself in Kevin’s touch, a bit resentful toward myself, because I wasn’t even trying to resist him.

“Patrick said you tried to shoot yourself with an empty gun,” Kevin whispered. He pulled the blanket back partially to reveal my dick, which was standing straight up. “Why did you do that?”

“I thought I could make it stop,” I answered. Kevin’s hand moved further down my balls, reaching toward the crack of my ass. I trembled slightly when his finger grazed past my asshole. I felt guilty for what I was allowing him to do to me. Patrick was still somewhere in the house, and I was allowing this strange, beautiful man, who was probably somewhat responsible somehow for all the shit that had been going on lately, to touch me like this. I felt angry with him for touching me so well, and angry at myself for not telling him to stop.

“Make what stop?” Kevin asked. His finger found my asshole again and he started to rub it in slow circles, and my toes curled, and my heartbeat kept racing. 

Between short breaths, I whispered, “All of this.”

Kevin took his finger out of my asscrack. He brought his finger to his mouth, and bit it gently, his dark, seductive eyes scanning through my mind. “You even know what you’re afraid of?” he asked.

“I don’t even know you,” I said.

“But I know you,” Kevin replied. “I’ve known you for a long time. And of all people, you shouldn’t be afraid of me.”

“You know me from where?” I asked. Before he answered my question, I hopped out of the bed, my hard dick bouncing up and down. My jeans were lying in the corner of the room, next to the bed, right where I had had them before. I put them on. “Where’s Patrick? I want to go home.”

Kevin rolled over on the bed onto his back, on the side that I had been sleeping on. His dick was massive and hard. The large dragon tattoo that spiraled along his torso seemed to move every time he breathed. “What’s waitin’ for you at home?” Kevin asked. “Or should I ask who’s waiting for you at home?”

“I just don’t want to be here anymore.” I looked around for my shirt, but I couldn’t find it. I looked under the bed, thinking that it might be there, but I had no luck.

“What if you’re dead?” Kevin asked randomly, but not randomly at the same time.

I waited a few seconds before I answered. “What are you talking about?”

I lifted my head, so that I was at eye level with the bed—and Kevin—and somehow, in under about fifteen seconds, he was completely dressed, in his dark blue jeans and a black tank-top shirt. He lay in bed with his arms tucked behind his head and cunning smile on his face. “What if you right now, you were dead?” he asked.

“I’m not dead,” I said. “And how did you get dressed so quick?”

“What do you mean?” he asked, as if he had no idea what I was talking about.”

“You had all your clothes off just a second ago. Now you’re completely dressed.”

Kevin sat up in bed. At first he looked a bit puzzled, then he chuckled a little bit. “Why would I be naked in front of you? I don’t even know you.”

I stood. The room darkened a little. “You told me a minute ago that you knew me for a long time.”

The bewilderment in Kevin’s eyes looked genuine. “Patrick was right, you are crazy.”

“No, I’m not. I know what you said.”

“First you fuck your best friend’s dad and then kill him. Then you think your other friend shot himself in the head while you were watching. Then you try to shoot yourself with an empty gun. And you’re tellin’ me that doesn’t sound a bit crazy to you, Sean? `Cause it sure as fuck sounds crazy to me. You’re a fuckin’ psychotic.”

My knees wobbled a little, and my feet felt like they were slowly sinking into the ground, as though I were standing on quicksand. I felt slightly dizzy. “It’s not true. I’m not crazy.” I closed my eyes, and there was pure darkness when I closed my eyes. And I heard Kevin whispering in my ear, I could feel his warm breath tickling the side of my face. 

“You’re right, Sean. He does hate you. You don’t know how bad he hates you. You don’t know how bad he wants you to die. And isn’t that the shittiest thing in the world? To know that the only person you actually give a fuck about wants you dead? He might pretends that he doesn’t want you dead, but we both know that isn’t true. He might smile, and kiss you, and he’ll even fuck you. And he might even like it when he fucks you. But you need to know, Sean, that when he’s fucking you, he’s thinking about killing you. When he cums inside of you, he’s thinking of the most fucked up ways he could torture you. And you need to know that, Sean. He’s hated you for a long time. He knows how fucked up your mind is, and he uses that to his advantage. If you’re not careful, he might actually do it. He might actually kill you.”

I was still squeezing my eyes shut, and I could feel tears coming, but I blocked them away. I refused to open my eyes and I refused to let the tears come out. I just concentrated on the darkness. I soaked in Kevin’s words; it was difficult not to listen to him; it was difficult not to believe that some of what he was saying could’ve been true. 

“I can’t tell you why he wants you dead,” Kevin whispered. “He told me, but I can’t tell you. I have to keep it a secret. And it’s not about you fuckin’ his daddy. It’s something completely else. The only reason why you’re still alive right now, if you can even call this bein’ alive, is because you forgot what happened. But the moment you remember what happened, you’re gone. So if I were you, Sean, I would try not to remember anything. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

I nodded my head with my eyes still tightly closed. 

“You’re a good little boy who fell in love with a bad man. When you’re looking at him, you should know that you’re not really looking at him. You’re lookin’ at a fuckin’ monster. He might look like a person on the outside, but on the inside he’s a fuckin’ devil. You’re right not to trust him…”

“Why are you telling me all of this?”

“Someone has to tell this to you. It might as well be me.”

“Are you real, or have I just made you up in my mind?”

Kevin kissed my left temple. “Maybe.”

I opened my eyes and looked around. There was nobody else in the room except for me. I sat there for what seemed like ten minutes, absorbing everything I had just heard, not sure of what to think or what to believe. Yet I knew one thing for sure: I needed to get out of Patrick’s house.

It took me a minute or two to get to my feet, and when I finally did, I felt like a baby walking for the first time. A couple of times I stumbled and almost fell. As I passed by Patrick’s computer on the way to the door, I noticed that it had been shut off. 

Opening Patrick’s door, I stepped into the empty hallway. A part of me was expecting Patrick to be waiting outside of the door, ready to pounce on me or something, but he wasn’t. In fact, there was this deep quietness in the house that was almost scary. It was as if I had completely gone deaf. I went into the guest bedroom down the hall. Patrick wasn’t inside of there. I was about to go out again, when I noticed the photograph on the desk. For some reason, I felt compelled to over there and give that picture another look. Picking it up, I examined, and recognized something peculiar about the photo that hadn’t been there before. 

When I had first seen the picture, earlier that day (or at least I think it was earlier that day), Patrick’s father had been on the left hand side of the picture, standing next to Patrick. But now, Patrick’s father was on the right hand side of the picture, nearest to Patrick’s mother. Furthermore, I remember Patrick smiling in the picture before, a warm friendly smile, but now when I studied the photograph, his lips were pressed tight together, and he looked a bit dour. Maybe I was just confused, and seeing things backwards, but then maybe…

“Every time I turn around, you’re in here,” Patrick said. Startled, I turned around, almost dropping the photograph out of my hands. He stood in the doorframe, fully dressed, almost attired exactly how Kevin had been, in dark blue jeans, and a tight black tank top shirt, that clearly emphasized the masculine and beautiful swells of his chest and arms. Patrick was smiling at me like he knew something that I didn’t. “Are you ok?” he asked.

As simple as that question was, it was one of the most difficult questions I’ve ever had to answer. “I don’t know,” I responded. “I think so…. where were you? I was looking for you.”

“Downstairs in the living room. You were sleeping, so I thought I’d leave you alone for a little while.”

I replaced the photograph where I found it. “What time is it?” I asked.

Patrick didn’t bother to check his watch. “Almost close to eight o’ clock. Why? Do you have some place you gotta be or something?” He was smiling, but there was something odd about the way he was smiling that made me nervous. 

I had the feeling that Patrick was trying to keep me inside of the room. “I think I’d better get home now,” I said, trying not to sound as nervous as I felt. 

“Why?” Patrick asked. I thought you were going to spend the night with me tonight.”

I didn’t know how to say what I wanted to say to him without making him angry or hurting his feelings. “I just kinda feel like I don’t wanna be here right now,” I told Patrick. My heartbeat sped up a little in panicked anticipation of what Patrick might say or do next. Patrick shifted his weight and crossed his arms over his muscular chest. 

“There something wrong with you?” Patrick questioned. “I mean, why do you all of a sudden want to go home now?” He took a step toward me. I started to feel like a helpless victim with no way out, and I hated that feeling. 

“Patrick, it’s not just sudden. I never wanted to be here to begin with.” That came out a little bit more bluntly than I’d hoped it would. I could see the anger welling up in Patrick’s eyes. I thought he was going to say something to me, but he didn’t. He turned and walked out of the room, leaving me alone to feel awkward and even more nervous than before. From the hallway, I finally Patrick say, “Be out to the car in two minutes.” He sounded so cold and hurt. I felt bad for what I’d said, but I meant it. I didn’t want to be in his house any longer. I wanted to take a break away from him, and everything that had been happening surrounding him the last few weeks.