Page 38 of Beck

“What do you want?”

“So many questions. I want answers of my own, so you’ll shut up and answer them.”

Kole swallowed hard and didn’t reply. He had no idea what to do. His phone was on the coffee table, and he was sure he wouldn’t be able to go for it without consequences. There wasn’t necessarily menace in Drake’s voice, but he hadn’t brokeninto his apartment for fun and games. Well, not the kind Kole thought was fun, he was sure.

“Beck doesn’t live here, does he?” Kole didn’t answer, and Drake stepped forward and slammed his hand on the breakfast bar. “Does he?” he yelled.

Kole shook, visions of Andrew’s attack flashing through his mind, but he shoved it down. “No.”

“Well done. Where does he live?”

No way in hell was he answering that question.

Drake chuckled. “You’re going to make things worse for yourself.”

“I won’t tell you. No matter what happens,” Kole said, sitting up straighter, finding strength from somewhere.

Grinning, Drake stepped forward, each step a slow, methodical approach, and though Kole’s newfound strength faltered, he held his ground.

“That’s no problem. I like it when my partners fight me.”

Hands sweating, Kole eyed his phone. It was too far away, and Drake was too close. He readied for an attack, but nothing came.

“One more question…for now. When does Beck get back?”

“I don’t know,” he answered. Drake raised his eyebrows. “I actually don’t. I didn’t even know he’d gone.”

Drake frowned. “I thought you were his boyfriend? How can he not tell you?”

Kole ignored the hurt pressing on his chest when the asshole echoed what had been in his head the previous day. “We’re fuck buddies, not boyfriends.”

The smile that spread across Drake’s face was nothing short of terrifying. Kole must’ve said something that helped Drake in some way.

“You must be good to keep Beck coming back. From what I know about him, he never usually visits a bed more than once.” Drake’s hand ran over his crotch. “Maybe I need to get a taste.”

He stepped close enough for Kole to surprise him with a kick aimed at his balls, but he missed and rolled to the floor, scrambling on hands and knees to get away. Drake wrapped his beefy hand around his ankle, slamming him to the ground. His chin hit with a thud, sending a rattling ache through his jaw. Heart pounding, he got his hands beneath him again, kicked his free leg back, connecting with something, and crawled forward. A weight crashed into his back, taking him to the floor again and pushing the air from his lungs.

“I don’t think so, Kole. You’re my ticket to proving a point,” Drake said into his ear before licking a stripe up his cheek. Kole jerked his head away and bucked. “Hell, yes. Keep doing that, and we’ll get along just fine.”

Drake’s groin rubbed against Kole’s ass, and for a split second, he froze. Long enough for Drake to wrap his hand around his neck and keep him in place.

“What shall I do with you now?”

A boom sounded, and then voices. Lots of voices. But Kole’s gaze was narrowing, his lungs screaming for air that Drake was keeping from him. He scratched at his neck, at Drake’s hands, trying to get him to let go, but then the weight was gone, the hand was gone, and his head slammed to the floor. He dragged in a lungful of oxygen and coughed it out again, repeating it until his head cleared enough to hear a commotion behind him.

“He invited me here! He likes it rough, for god’s sake!”

“If I were you, I would keep your mouth shut until you have a lawyer, Mr Price,” someone else said.

“Mr Peterson? Kole? Can you hear me?”

Kole blinked, his vision swimming. Finally, a strange man came into view, but as he wore a police uniform, Kole’s mind automatically deemed him the safer option.

“Mr Peterson?”

“Yes,” he croaked. He winced at the pain of talking.

“Good. I’m Officer Bryant. We’re going to get you to hospital for a checkup. Your throat is severely bruised. Is there anyone you’d like to call?”

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