Date: Fri, 09 Oct 2009 14:35:06 -0400
From: nuday101@hushmail.com
Subject: Just Walk Away  Part Five

This story contains sexual contact between males.  If it is unlawful or
inappropriate for you to be here, please leave now. The story and
characters are fictional, I hope you enjoy it. Your emails and responses
are appreciated. A great thanks to Pete for all his input and editing.


Just Walk Away
Chapter 5

I awoke twice during the night. Both times Brad was spooning me, his dick
pushed up tightly to my butt, his arm draped over my body, his fingers
lightly holding my dick. Each time I rolled over towards him and we each
bought the other to completion. The last time, I leaned in and, feeling his
breath against my cheek, I kissed him. It was a good kiss, not like the
little pecks I remember my mother giving me and nothing like that last
night with Johnny when he forced his tongue inside my mouth. No, this was a
gentle kiss against moist lips, waiting... and returning a kiss to mine.

I fell into a deep sleep, the kind that always seems to come just before
you wake. I saw myself running, my legs twitched and the wind was in my
hair, but this time I ran in fear. Behind me were Burt and Ray and they
were gaining on me. No matter how fast I ran, I dreamt that they were
gaining on me and then from the side, out of nowhere, it was Ivan and I
felt his hand reach out and grab my arm.

I repelled; rolling my body into a tight ball and cried out, "NO!"

My eyes flew open and I pulled my arm away from that grip hearing the voice
saying, "Hey dude, calm down, it's just me. Are you ok?" That voice, it was
so warm, so nice, so friendly. It was Brad.

I relaxed looking up into his blue eyes and I smiled and said, "Sorry, just
a bad dream. Why are you dressed for running?" I asked, "It's Saturday,
isn't it?"

"Yeah," he replied, "but we run every day, that's why we win. "Come on,
let's go," and he tossed me a pair of shorts.

****

In the light of day, Brad was still my friend, but he was not my lover. He
acted completely different and I wondered if he and I would ever talk about
the things we did. I was new at this and didn't know. Maybe guys just did
that and never spoke about it to each other. I would have liked to just
tell him how nice it felt and how great it was to have him as a friend, but
I guess that isn't what guys do. No, guys run, don't we?

We reached the track at school and slid our slender bodies between the bars
of the fence. Brad said he did this all the time and no one really
cared. After some warm ups, we began to run and we ran and we ran. Out on
the track it was nice. The wind was in my hair and the breeze felt good
against my face. I rounded the second curve and noticed out on the road the
perfect car, my dream car. It was a new Burgundy Mustang GT, California
Trim. That was the car of my dreams, the one I would pick if I could have a
car. I wondered who could be so cool that they could have a car like that.

Rounding again I noticed that the car had stopped and it was parked facing
the track. I knew I loved the car, but something else drew me to
it. Something made me want to look, to go to it, to open the door, to see
the driver of my dream car. I ran with my head turned, not wanting to lose
sight of that car. Who was in it? Why did I care? What was it about that
car? What was the real attraction? Why did I feel like I knew the driver?
Why? And then I thought, the only people I know are bad people... they are
Johnny's people! I need to get out of here! I need to get away from that
car, that driver. I need to run! And I did.

I ran off the track and down the road at top speed. I heard Brad yelling
after me. I ran faster.

Behind me I heard an engine; I knew the sound of a Mustang GT, it's like a
low growl from a lion, which was the sound getting closer behind me. I
needed more speed, but laughed at myself. My brain told my legs there was
no way they could out run a Mustang GT. I needed to hide.

Up ahead was a fence and I could see a shed in the backyard. I ran off the
road, I crossed the yard, I jumped the fence and I flew to the door of the
shed. It opened with a rusty creaking sound. The door closed and I hid deep
inside... hidden by barrels and darkness, inhaling the dank smell with
every breath. I thought about my life and how it could end here in this
shed, in the darkness and debris and realized that pretty much summed up
the total of who I was and how I had lived during the last few years. I
knew that in any minute Burt and Ray, or worse, Ivan, could come through
that rusty door and in just a few minutes of pain, I would be begging them
to let me tell where the duffle was hidden.

Looking back, I guess I could have left that bag behind and just tried to
get out of town, but if I had, I think Burt would have shot me with his gun
and not his camera. I knew too much. I was there to see all the activity. I
was their worst nightmare and they knew I was the one who called the
police. My life was worthless without that duffle and I thought, it wasn't
worth much with it. I promised myself, that if I got out of this situation
alive, I needed to make some changes. I smiled a small grin thinking about
Brad and the changes he had brought into my life. I liked them, I liked
him, but I felt there was something else, someone else I needed to find and
then the thought of that car, the driver of that car, the Mustang, why was
I drawn to it?

Quickly all those thoughts left my head as I heard footsteps outside of the
shed. I crouched down even more, taking up as little space as possible
behind those nasty barrels. I heard the rusty door as it opened slowly and
the light of day came sneaking into my hiding place. Now the door was fully
opened and a long shadow streamed across the floor of the shed.

I held my breath and calculated the size of the shadow. It wasn't long
enough to be Ivan, thankfully. It wasn't large enough to Burt. Maybe Ray, I
thought, maybe I can take Ray. Then I remembered how Ray loved to show me
his knife, how he would shave the hair off my arm to prove how sharp it
was. Now I was hoping it wasn't Ray.

"I know you're in there. Stand up. I want to talk to you," the voice echoed
against the walls. "You've taken something that belongs to me," I heard it
say.

Then I thought, 'Oh no, it can't be Uncle Johnny!' I prayed, 'Please don't
let it be Uncle Johnny.'

The body moved forward and came towards the rear wall and my hiding
place. He stood next to the last barrel and I knew it was hopeless. He
could see me there; hiding was useless. I stood and faced him. We both took
a long look, his mouth dropped open, and my head went down.

Then from outside we both heard a thump and someone running towards the
shed. Together we turned towards the door, standing side by side as Brad
rounded the corner and flew through the shed door. It took a little time
for him to take in the scene before he said, "Holy crap, there are two of
you?"

****

Standing beside me was Ryan Martins. This is as close as I had been to him
and I was awe struck by how much we looked alike. I was not alone. I think
Ryan was shocked and now Brad could not believe his eyes, he spoke with a
question in his voice and said, "Ryan?"

We both answer "Yeah."

Ryan looked at me with surprise and maybe a little anger.

"Who are you? Why are you pretending to be me? Why did you steal my things?
Who ARE you?" he repeated.

"Come on, both of you, let's get out of here before the people see us in
their backyard," advised Brad.

We both seemed to agree without speaking and followed him out the gate and
into the street. There was my dream car, so it belongs to Ryan... but why
did that matter to me so much? I didn't know.

Brad was doing all the thinking and talking and I think Ryan and I were
just soaking in the fact that the other one of us was there. Brad suggested
we all go back to his house and sort things out. He looked at me with a
warning in his eyes telling me it was time for me to fill in the blanks. I
knew he was right.

Ryan and I both opened our doors to the Mustang at the same time and Brad
jumped in the back so we could take him to his car. On the way to Brad's
house it was just Ryan and me. We drove in silence for a minute and then I
asked him, "How did you find me?"

"The school records, dumb shit, it was the school records you had sent
here."

His words bit into me like bullets. And I said, "Damn, I didn't think of
that."

He spoke at me again with a sarcastic look and said, "You're really stupid,
aren't you?"

I have had my share of verbal abuse in my life. Johnny and the boys weren't
nice people and on bad days I was the victim of many slurs. I had gotten
use to it, but cruel words coming from Ryan seemed sharper than Ray's
knife. They hurt and I couldn't help it, as tears filled my eyes.

I saw him look over. He did a double take, his hazel eyes looking deep into
my watery eyes. He looked away and then back again; his eyes were watery as
well and I wondered about that.

"Look, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that. I guess I'm just mad that you
took my things, Ok?" he said.

"Yeah, sure, I'm sorry, but if you knew what I had been through you might
be more understanding."

That's when he reached over and put his hand on my arm. The sparks seem to
run up my arm and all over my body. I was embarrassed that I had to adjust
myself; even my dick felt the heat from that touch. I had never felt
anything like that before.

****

We arrived at Brad's place and we all went through the kitchen
door. Mrs. Jackson smiled as I walked in and looked back at me again and
then at Ryan and then gave a questioning look to Brad.

"Mom, don't ask, we're going to my room and as soon as I have answers I'll
let you know."

"Yes Bradley Jackson and that had better be soon," she warned him.

In his bedroom, Brad sat on the bed and Ryan took the computer chair in
front of Brad's desk. I stood between them. I guess I was the center of
attention. Was it time for one of my dances? No, I don't think so. It was
time to stop dancing and start talking. I knew Brad was my friend and I
felt something special from Ryan. It was time for me to trust someone. Now
there is a word I haven't used often... trust.

Brad said, "Ok, Ryan it's time for you to tell us both what's going on. We
want to hear it all."

Then Ryan said, "First I want to know your real name, I'm tired of you
using mine, so who are you? What's your real name?" he questioned.

****

My real name, I thought. It had been so long since I had heard it. It was,
"Hey Boy," or "Kid, get over here." That's how Johnny and the boys called
me. No, I thought, can I trust these two? Can I tell them everything? And
where do I begin?

Do I tell the truth, or... just walk away?

To be continued...

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nuday101@hushmail.com