Page 122 of Chokehold
He bites down hard on my earlobe, and I fall over the edge. My muscles tense. Ropes of cum rain over the pink sheets in quick spurts. “Cole,” I moan.
“Look at all that cum,” he breathes, smiling against my skin as another squirt spills onto the blanket. “What do you think she’ll say when she comes back here later to see how hard I made you come?”
“I didn’t know how possessive you could be,” I reply and turn around on shaky legs, out of breath. We put our dicks away in silence, glancing at each other. The moment I’m done tightening my belt, he pulls me to him and drops his lips to mine. I fist his hair and force my tongue into his hot mouth. Heaving breaths and deep grunts. Cole curses before biting my lip, assaulting the tender flesh. I grab his stubbly chin and suck on his tongue. Then something changes, and our touches turn reverent, gentle.
Cole breaks away first and presses his forehead to mine, fingers hooked in my belt hoops. “I’m sorry I ghosted you… I should have talked to?—”
“Shut up.” I shake my head. “I’m the one who should apologize. What I did…” My throat jumps. “I drugged you and… Fuck…” I can’t even finish the sentence. Guilt gnaws at my insides. I wish I could turn back time and talk some fucking sense into myself.
“Hey…” Cole catches my eye. “Look at me. Let’s just…” Wetting his lips, he inches closer. “Forget about the past. Forget about all the fucking bullshit.”
Instead of replying, I cup his face, and his stubble scratches my fingers. I brush my lips over his and whisper, “I love you.”
His trembling breath fans my mouth. He kisses me, a soft press of lips. “I love you too?—”
The door flies open. A police officer enters the room. His gun is drawn, and his beady eyes bounce between us. The world slows to a stop. Beside me, Cole’s face drains of color. I shove him behind me and square my shoulders.
“It’s good to see you again, son,” Cole’s dad says, skirting the length of the room and circling us. “You should answer your phone once in a while.”
“Don’t fucking talk to him,” I snap, and he swings the gun in my direction. Cole tries to barge past me, but I whip my arm out to keep him back.
“Would you look at that,” Cole’s dad taunts, cocking his weapon. “My pathetic son is a faggot.” His harsh laughter turns my stomach. My jaw tightens as he flashes his yellowed teeth that look like nubs. His pores reek of alcohol, and his greasy hair hangs limply over his forehead. How he hasn’t lost his badge yet is beyond me. The man is a fucking mess—a corrupt cop, if there ever was one.
“You’re drunk,” I say. “Put the weapon down.”
“You don’t make the fucking rules here, faggot. I do.” He jostles the gun. “Step out of the fucking way. Let me talk to my boy.”
Cole puts his hand on my arm. “Blaise, let me talk to him?—”
I cut him off with a single glare. Fuck that. I’m not letting his dad anywhere near him.
The gun is aimed at my head. It would be a quick death if he decides to pull the trigger—over in a heartbeat. One moment, I’m here, defending Cole’s honor and then…nothingness. Sweet oblivion. Only death doesn’t seem sweet if it means losing Cole, but if I have to die to protect him, then so be it.
“Step out of the fucking way,” he spits, saliva droplets flying from his mouth.
I glare at him.
“I’ll blow your fucking head off.” He can barely stand up straight, swaying and hiccupping. “I’ve had enough of this shit. Cole is my son. His mom is my fucking wife?—”
“Ex-wife,” I point out, and he narrows his eyes.
“She’ll always bemywife.” He sniffs, his mustache twitching. Then he roars, “And Cole will always be my son!”
I swear I hear Cole choke out a sob behind me, reminding me of a wounded animal—a terrified dog shying away from its owner.
My heart thrashes. Adrenaline rushes through my veins.
“Here’s what’s gonna happen,” he says, sweating profusely. “I’ll count to three. If you haven’t moved out of my way by the count of three, I will put a bullet between your eyebrows, understood?”
When I remain silent, he counts “One,” and a sly smile spreads across his lips. My heart slows to a dull thud. I zero in on the barrel. This is it. I’ll die at the hands of Cole’s crazy father—murdered in cold blood for loving his son.
“Two.” His eyes gleam with sick excitement. He’s enjoying this. He wants to pull the trigger. In his mind’s eye, he visualizes blood spraying over the walls. I swallow hard, resigned to my fate?—
Cole shoves me out of the way, and I crash against the vanity table. A shot goes off. Cole clutches his stomach. His eyes lift, and the confusion I see there breaks something inside me. He looks at me, his dad, and the blood pouring between his fingers.
“Look what you fucking did,” Cole’s dad snarls, gripping him by the arm and hauling him across the room. I dash after them, but come to a sudden halt. The gun digs into Cole’s temple. His father inches backward toward the door, kicking a stray bunny slipper out of the way. “Don’t follow us. I will kill him if you do.”
“No, you won’t.”
