Page 141 of The Making of Jonty Bloom
Oh God.Jonty whispered, “Help!” and put the phone by the side of the cushion, hidden by the book.
He sat up and as he turned, he saw Brad.Shiiit.Talk so that Devan knows what’s happening!
“What are you doing in here?” Jonty shouted.Oh God that was too loud.“How did you get in? You’ve been in here before, haven’t you?You’ve bloody big feet, Brad. You left sand on the floor.”Please hear me!
Brad laughed. “Not just the sand I left, though that was an accident. I didn’t know I’d done that.”
What?Jonty’s mind raced as he tried to think what to do, how he could get away. The bathrooms had locks on the door, but Brad was a big guy and he’d not come out here to be deterred by a flimsy lock. How had he got through the front door?
“Accepted there’s nothing you can do?” Brad smirked.
“There’s plenty I can do. Would you like a coffee?”Delay!
“No.”
“Have you taken your medicine?”
“I don’t need it.”
Shiiit!“What do you want?” Jonty swallowed to try and bring moisture back to his dry mouth.
“I love you.”
Oh fuck right off.
“I want things the way they were.”
“What do you mean?”
“Me as your boyfriend.”
“We only had six dates.”
“Enough to know I love you. I want more. I sent you presents while I was away working so you’d remember me.”
“Brad. Don’t you remember what happened the last time I was at your place? What you did? How I reacted?”
“Overreacted. You don’t know what you want.” Brad’s tone harshened. “I do. Now pack your bag. Then you’re going to write a letter to the arsehole with the Aston Martin.”
Even if Jonty could get to his bike without being caught, it wouldn’t take Brad long to catch him in his car. But one advantage Jonty had over Brad was speed. He hoped. Jonty was wiry and fast. Brad wasn’t. The other thing Brad couldn’t do was swim.
“Stop thinking and go and get your stuff packed. I’m taking you on holiday.”
“I don’t have a passport. And you can’t swim. Learn to swim first and we’ll talk about it.”
The longer Jonty delayed, the more time it gave Devan to get here. Or the police.
“We’re not going abroad. We’re going to Scotland. Now shut up and pack.”
“I don’t want to go anywhere with you.”
As Brad reached for him, Jonty threw himself over the back of the couch. He sprang to his feet, ran for the bi-fold doors, but only managed to pull one partly open before Brad wrapped his arms around him and dragged him back to the couch. Jonty’s heart sank when he saw the phone had slid from under the book. Brad picked it up, looked at it and switched it off. Jonty tried to wriggle free, but one thump in his stomach and he doubled over, no air in his lungs.
Brad hauled him upright and cupped his face, his mouth inches from Jonty’s. “You know how I like it when you fight, baby. Feel how much it turns me on.”
As he grabbed Jonty’s wrist and pulled it down, Jonty brought his knee up hard into Brad’s balls. Brad cried out, Jonty wrenched free and darted across to the part-open bi-fold door which was wide enough for him to slide through, but would delay Brad. He bolted straight down the path to the beach, hoping someone would be there, policemen out training, someone walking a bad-tempered dog… The beach was empty.
“Get back here, you little bastard,” Brad yelled.
