Page 1 of No Kind Words (Calston Cove #3)

The slight creak of the barn door has my blood pressure rising, my heart beating faster, and my hands trembling. Footsteps are approaching the ladder. He’s here! This is actually going to happen. After all the sneaking around and finding secret, unseen places, today is the day. Everyone is out of the house and away from the farm. I’ve planned this down to the last detail. A blanket is spread out over the worn floor. The condoms and lube are hidden under the corner of the tartan fabric. God, I’m so nervous but also excited. No way on earth am I going to flee.

The footsteps hit the ladder, and before I can speak, he’s in front of me. Curly blond hair, sparkling blue eyes, and a mouth that’s made for kissing.

“Hi.”

It sounds more like a soft sigh than a greeting. “You’re here.”

Of course he’s here. He’s standing right before me.

“Yeah, there’s no way I wouldn’t be here. I’ve been waiting for this moment as long as you.”

He smiles. “Is it all done and dusted?”

The last of my A levels is over with. I’m a free man for the summer. “And before you ask, it went really well.”

I wink. He steps closer to me, and he seems so much larger than me.

He skims his nose up the side of mine, and I suck in a breath. “So sure.”

Then his mouth is on mine. Our hands scrabble at each other’s clothes. We’ve waited too long to get to this moment. The stolen kisses that started all this led to handjobs and blow jobs. Hidden from anyone’s eyes, we’ve fallen in love.

“Lie down. Let me look at you.”

His stare doesn’t embarrass me. I want him to look at me. I know he likes what he sees as he gives me a crooked grin. A dimple appears on his left cheek. “Fuck, you’re beautiful.”

“Not as beautiful as you. Get down here and kiss me.”

As soon as his mouth is on mine, we both let out a groan. The next moments are a sensory overload. He presses his naked body against mine. Our hands roam freely over our bodies, which are getting hotter and harder by the second.

The point of no return comes when a cold, wet finger pushes gently at my entrance, asking for admission. One finger becomes two. The stretch and burn are exquisite and everything I’ve been craving. That’s until I’m empty, and the condom wrapper is being torn open.

“Keep your eyes on me and breathe, baby,”

he whispers, his lips close to mine. His breath warms my moist skin.

The hot, blunt head of his dick presses firmly at my hole, and then there’s the pressure again. He kisses me so deeply I almost forget what’s happening lower down until he slides farther in. “So big,”

I pant. He stops and waits for me to adjust.

When I nod, he pushes farther. The tight pain changes, and pleasure floods my body. A cry breaks free from him. “God, so good, so fucking good. I’m never going to want to leave.”

I lose myself to the intensity of my first time. I’ll never forget this moment. The smell of the old hay, the warmth of the sun through the holes in the timber roof, and the dust motes it makes through the gaps of the old barn.

We come together, crying out each other’s names.

“I love you,”

I whisper into his hair. He repeats the words in my ear.

We lie together, bravely talking about the future until the sun goes down and we have to say goodbye for now.

The summer is going way too quickly. We’re together as much as we can, and our meetings get hotter as we get braver with each other. Today is a big day, and once again I’m in the loft of the barn farthest away from the farmhouse. The chores over the summer months—the harvest, the baling, the stacking and storing of hay, straw, and silage—have left me suntanned and muscled. For once, I may have impressed my argumentative, aggressive, and alcoholic arsehole dad.

It’s the end of August, and next to the usual supplies on the picnic blanket lies a white envelope. It’s the first thing he notices. My heart is in my throat as he looks at me. “Have you opened it?”

After checking online, I know what’s in it, but I want us to open the letter together. This affects him as much as it does me. “I want you to do it.”

Without hesitation, he flips the envelope over and slides his finger under the sealed flap. When he pulls out the paper and his eyes go wide, I can’t hold back my smile. “Four A+s, oh my god, Jethro, that’s incredible. You did it! Have you submitted your results? Did you get in?”

I nod, too giddy to speak. He pulls me into his arms and twirls me around. We’re both laughing until my feet hit the ground and our lips touch. I’m lost in him, aching for more, for him to be inside me again. For as many times as we’ve managed this summer, I still want him all the time.

We lie back down on the blanket. Sweat is sticky on our skin, making the loose hay attach itself to us. “Have you decided where you’re going to go?”

He makes circles on my chest with his fingers.

“I’ve been accepted at Cambridge, Bristol, and Edinburgh. I need to decide which one. What do you think? Where would you like to go?”

We’ve talked this over so many times, but now, with my results, it’s finally real. He can stop the job he hates and maybe get a job in a kitchen and work his way up while he goes back to college.

He tenses. When I turn to look at him, he’s biting hard on his lip. Something has happened. “What’s going on? Have you changed your mind? Jesus, we’ve been planning this for months. Please don’t do this.”

“I’m still coming, but maybe I should wait a month or two. It will be too obvious if we both leave at the same time.”

I sit upright and stare at him. He’s kidding. He’s got to be. No more hiding, he promised me. “You said it wouldn’t matter. You didn’t want to hide anymore. I don’t believe this.”

The sting of tears burns my eyes. I don’t want to cry, but there’s no way of holding them back. Tears flow down my cheeks, and I swipe them angrily away. “You have no intention of coming with me, do you? You’ve used me for the summer, had your fun with the closeted gay kid. You’re twenty-five and have lied to get what you wanted.”

“Jethro, sweetheart. That’s not true. I love you. Nothing I’ve said has been a lie. How can you even think I only wanted to fuck you? I’ve given you my heart. You can get settled, and I’ll join you, I promise.”

He pulls at my arm, gently tugging me back down. He holds me in his arms, letting me rest my head on his chest. His lips touch my hair, pressing kiss after kiss on my head.

My brain catches up with my heart and believes him. We stay still, silently lost in our thoughts, until the sky darkens and twilight descends around us.

“I’d better go. You’ll be missed if we stay here much longer.”

I draw back from his embrace, sit up, and pick up my clothes. We dress, but he doesn’t look at me like he usually does. Doubts creep in. Is he telling me the truth? He hasn’t lied to me before, so I smile and press a quick kiss on his lips. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yes, love. I’ll be here.”

He climbs down the ladder and slips out of the barn door. I gather up the blanket and shake it out. The hay flutters around me, then rests on the floor again. The condoms and lube are tucked away in an old box no one would think to look at.

I check to see if it all looks normal, then get down the ladder. There’s a shadow by the door. “Hey, did you forget something?”

The shadow moves into the light, and my father emerges, his belt in his hand. The sneer on his face tells me all I need to know. He’s found out. Can I brush it aside, tell him he’s got it all wrong? It’s worth a go.

“Hey, Dad, what’s up?”

Before I can move to get past him, his fist flies out and hits me square on the jaw. I fall to my knees. “You filthy, dirty faggot. I know what you’ve been doing and who with. You disgust me. No son of mine is a fucking queer. You stink of him, of sex, you pervert.”

The belt comes down over and over. The harsh metal buckle breaks the skin on my hip and back. When his foot joins in the fight, I curl up into a ball and cover my head, desperate to shield it from his feet and fists. Blood runs down my head and back. How am I going to survive this? Another voice, high and shrill, full of fear, breaks through the daze. My mother’s.

“For god’s sake, stop. That’s enough, you bastard. You’re going to kill him. I’m calling the police.”

Then darkness envelopes me.

When I step into the barn, there’s something different about it. It feels cold, hollow, like it would echo if I spoke aloud. The hay loft is quiet. No soft light from the lamp Jethro usually has on the ground. I climb up the ladder, and the place is empty. There’s no sign of us ever being here before. What the hell is going on? When I step off the ladder and walk to the bales, Jethro’s dad appears from behind the tallest stack.

Everyone knows he’s a mean bastard who drinks too much and gets heavy with his fists when he hits a rage. He straightens his shoulders and flexes his hands. Hands that already have scabs and broken skin over the knuckles. Fear for Jethro floods me. The fact that his father is here proves that he knows about us.

“What have you done to him?”

I’m grateful that my voice is steady and the words are strong and loud.

“Me? What have I done to him? You’re the deviant who’s been corrupting boys. How old are you, Benny? You’ve gotta be ten years older than him. Is this how you get your rocks off, fucking school kids? What’s the town gonna say when they find out what you’ve done?”

I’m only seven years older than Jethro, which could cause a scandal in this small town, but I doubt it would last long. Jethro is an adult, and we’ve done nothing illegal. But judging by his red face contorted in anger, his father is beyond being reasoned with. “Where is he? Where’s Jethro?”

“He’s gone. Good riddance. I’m not having some shirt-lifter degenerate in my house. So unless you want everyone to know what a filthy piece of scum you are, you’ll get out of here too.”

He cracks his knuckles, and as much as this crazy fucker scares me, I’m not running from him.

“What. Did. You. Do. To. Him?”

I enunciate each word as I step closer. I won’t win in a fight, but I’m standing up for Jethro and myself. There’s no shame in who we are.

“I did what a man should do when they have vermin in the house. I got rid of him. Now unless you want the same thing to happen to you, you’d better get the fuck off my land.”

He puts his hand behind his back and pulls something out of his waistband. A belt, a thick, heavy leather belt. Fuck, did he kill him?

“You piece of shit. I’m calling the police.”

I fish my phone out of my pocket.

“Yeah, you try that and see where it gets you. Now get out of here, out of town, before I tell everyone you’re a fucking paedo.”

He points to the ladder with the belt.

I step back but don’t turn around. I don’t want to have my back to him. He doesn’t move, his feet planted on the wooden floor, a look of disdain on his face. “You don’t scare me, you drunken piece of shit. I’ll be back, and you’d better let me see him.”

“Fuck off. Don’t you ever set foot on my land again. I’ll have you arrested for trespassing. Who’s the old bill gonna believe? The respectable farmer or the man who gets his kicks fucking kids?”

I take a step closer to him. “That’s a risk I’m prepared to take, so call them, old man.”

Instead of calling the police, he stomps past me and out of the barn. When I’m alone, I look around for any sign Jethro may have left for me, anything to let me know he’s okay. But there’s nothing, nothing to show we’ve been here for the last three months.

All night, I try to work out what has happened, where Jethro would’ve gone. The more I think about it, the less I believe he’s gone. The arsehole is bluffing. He’s done something to him. That belt was for more than to threaten me with. He’s hurt him. Jethro has told me about his tantrums and rants when he’s plastered, his days of drinking followed by shouts and arguments with his mum. That’s a point. Where is she in all this? I can’t imagine her letting Jethro be hurt. She could be scared of her husband, especially if he’s violent with her too.

It's market day. Jethro’s father leaves in his muddy Landrover, the trailer behind him with the sheep, his dog hanging its head out the window. I walk slowly up to the farmhouse door. With a shaky hand, I knock on the door. It’s all quiet for a minute. Footsteps approach the door, and it slowly opens. Mrs Palmer looks out nervously. “Oh, Benny, you can’t be here.”

She knows about us. Was it her who told on us? “What did he do? Has he hurt him? Please let me see him.”

I don’t care if I sound desperate. “How badly is he hurt?”

She shakes her head, but her eyes flick up to the ceiling. Is he in his room upstairs? “Go home, Benny. You can’t come here anymore. Leave us alone, please.”

I don’t, though. I go as often as I can, and each time she turns me away. Until one day when she opens the door, her eyes are rimmed red as if she’s been crying. “Oh, Benny, don’t come back. He’s not here.”

This time I believe her. “Did he say anything, give you anything for me?”

Her expression changes, indecision flashing in her eyes. “N…no, no, I’m sorry.”

And there it is. My first love left without a word. The only man I was Ben to has gone. What do I do now?