Page 1 of The Boy from Half Moon

PROLOGUE: Luke

The pressure on my throat was suffocating me, but I knew to remain quiet. He didn’t respond well to complaints while he concentrated on achieving his perverse desires. At least he’d bathed this time and wasn’t forcing his penis into my mouth like he’d done the last time.

The ropes burned my wrists, stretching my arms skyward as I readied myself to go to the quiet place I sought each time he hurt me.

“That’s a good boy,” he whispered. “You know I don’t like having to do this, but you brought it on yourself.”

“I’m sorry,” I croaked, battling to keep my mind out of this world.

“As you should be, boy,” he reprimanded. “I’m only doing this because you’re becoming a man now, and you must learn that the world is a very dangerous place. There will be many that want to soil you.”

He’d repeated the same line for five years. “But… I won’t let that happen,” I stuttered. “I’ll be good and pious, sir.”

“You think you will, son, but you need to experience what sins of the flesh can feel like if you disobey me.”

“I won’t disobey,” I replied, squirming and tugging on the ropes. His penis was pushing against my butthole, silently announcing what came next. I needed to get to the quiet place quickly. “I promise I’ll obey,” I choked, still negotiating, yet preparing to leave.

“Now be silent, Luke. You wouldn’t want your family to suffer because you couldn’t control your body, would you?” he hissed, pushing harder as I resisted. “Better you than little David, wouldn’t you agree?”

The thought of my thirteen-year-old brother suffering at the hands of our feared colony leader, a direct disciple of God, according to him, was far too much for me to handle. I had no choice but to do as he commanded.

At eighteen, I was big and strong, but no match for Franklin. I’d tried resisting his advances in the past, but that only led to more pain, so I’d recently accepted my fate and prayed he’d get bored with me. He hadn’t.

There were things to discover in the quiet place I went to. Gentle landscapes with small hills, wheat fields that waved in the breeze, producing wonderful patterns as they swayed, folks sitting in front of their homes. Every view serene and quiet. This world was a safe place to live and visit. I felt like a traveler in a foreign land. Safe. Not of the world that he existed in.

His hand covered my mouth, stifling the scream as he penetrated me. I made myself a promise then and there that I would never allow a man to touch me again. So help me God.

CHAPTER ONE: Tate

Central Oregon was flat, dry, and very similar to the eastern side of my home state, Washington. I hated it on sight. After driving from Seattle, I avoided Portland city limits by cutting off of I-5 and taking the 205 eastbound toward Mt. Hood. My plan was to cross over the mountain pass and then down through Madras, Oregon, and eventually to Bend, where I was relocating.

I wouldn’t be moving from Seattle to Bend had my ten-year relationship not ended so terribly. Here I was, two years into my thirties, and single for the first time in adulthood. Thomas, my ex, had found a newer version of me. A Tate 2.0, if you will. With Thomas being twenty years older than me, I’d never worried that I could age out of our relationship, but apparently I had.

“He turned fifty, Tate. A total mid-life crisis for gay guys his age. Plus, what’d you expect from a gym queen like Thomas?” my best friend Jake had explained. “Don’t worry, he’ll get his due when he’s too old to get his pecker up.”

“He’s rich,” I’d reminded him.

“Still, no one wants a limp dick on a grampa,” he’d countered.

“He takes those blue pills like vitamins,” I’d argued.

“Well, in that case, I hope you got some of his money.” I hadn’t, but that wasn’t the issue. I had enough of my own.

Driving down the southeastern slope of Mt. Hood was like landing on a different continent versus Western Oregon. Apparently, the fourth tallest mountain in the Cascade range, along with the rest of the mountains, did their job of keeping moisture on the western side of the state.

Like Seattle, Portland had its fair share of rain. I’d also considered Portland in my job search, but the city was too similar to Seattle. Similar, yes, but a lot weirder.

My Zoom recruitment meeting featured a team of Gen Z’s who sold me on Bend and the surrounding areas. Bend was hip and upwardly bound with a host of start-ups and a cool citywide vibe, while still hanging on to the outdoorsy groove that Oregonians flocked to.

There were rivers to kayak in, mountains to climb or hike, skiing on the slopes of the mountain pass I’d just crossed, and a downtown nightlife exploding with all the new young money. The recruiting team made Bend out to be Seattle-lite but without Seattle’s reputation for being unfriendly and chilly to newcomers.

“You’ll love it in Bend. I promise,” a cute guy on the screen, sitting toward the back of the room and about my age, stated. “There’s something here for all of us,” he’d added. I sensed he knew we played for the same team.

The starting pay was better than I’d expected, having come from Seattle’s premier law firm. Of course, I came with a strong educational pedigree in criminal defense law from an Ivy League school, so I was sought after. The slight pay cut would be fine because housing in Bend was half the cost of the Emerald City, not to mention that I’d sold my Space Needle-facing townhouse for twice the amount I’d paid for it four years prior.

I’d invested in my own place five years after meeting Thomas. He’d insisted I start thinking about my financial future. Had I missed a hint? I’d never lived in the townhouse because he wanted us to reside in his huge Mercer Island mansion, only a mile from Bill Gates’ obscenely over-the-top house, so I’d rented my place out for years until I got dumped a year ago.

Fortunately for me, my ex timed his new boy toy to the renewal of my tenants’ lease. Fortunately for me, that is; not so much for my renters. After spending another year in Seattle, I sorely needed a change. The loss of the one thing I held with such pride, my relationship, had done a number on my confidence.

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