Page 6 of Ride the Lightning
“Yes! Fuck, yes!” Kendall said, urging his lover on. “Harder. Faster.” Whomever he’d brought home complied. The headboard banging intensified in both frequency and speed.
Jonah’s cock started to stir. Who could blame him? Hearing two men fucking always had that effect on him. Throw in his long-ass dry spell, and who wouldn’t spring wood? Deciding to settle for a beer, Jonah threw back the covers and pulled on a pair of basketball shorts to cover his bare ass.
The sex sounds were even more intense on the first floor where Kendall’s bedroom was located. His roommate moaned incoherently, and his guest grunted before they both fell silent. Jonah raised his bottle of beer to toast the pair and headed to the front porch, where he’d have a front-row seat for nature’s performance.
The cool air felt wonderful against his heated flesh. Jonah breathed deeply, working to calm himself after his nightmare by cataloguing his favorite scents and remembering simpler times. The musky, pungent smell of freshly turned earth and the sweet, sharp scent of a newly cut lawn reminded him of the many hours working beside his granny in the yard. Oscar would get pissed about Granny making him a sissy boy and would drag him off to fish at the lake. Jonah had cried the first time Oscar put one of the worms on a fishhook. Oscar swore it didn’t hurt the worm, but Jonah didn’t believe him. From then on, Jonah had done his best to rescue every worm he’d encountered, especially after a hard rain flushed them from their hiding spots.
He reopened his eyes in time to witness a large bolt of lightning rip through the clouds, reminding Jonah of the restless energy surging inside him that had no way to escape. A loud clap of thunder boomed in the darkness, then rolled and rumbled for several seconds. Jonah recognized he was witnessing the tail end of the storm rather than the beginning. Too bad he couldn’t say that about the maelstrom wreaking havoc on his psyche.
Marla was dying.It was beyond his comprehension, yet he’d seen the truth in her eyes. She had accepted her fate, even if Jonah was struggling to do so.
“I’m still here, baby,” Marla had whispered when Jonah hugged her goodbye. “Please don’t mourn me yet.”
Jonah had nodded and forced a smile on his face. Sitting alone in the dark with his nightmares as company, Jonah didn’t have to pretend. He allowed himself to grieve for baby Abigail who’d never met her daddy. He mourned the brothers he lost to Al-Qaeda forces in Afghanistan ten years ago. Mostly, he cried for the dear friend he hadn’t lost yet.
Each remembrance of what he’d lost, or stood to lose, churned the emotional vortex stronger and faster until he thought his brain might explode. Another bolt of lightning rent the sky, reminding him of his granny’s wise words.
“No matter the ferocity of the storm, it always passes.”
Jonah saluted the sky with his bottle of beer. “Here’s to you, Granny.”
He sipped his beer and watched the resplendent display until he could no longer see the flashes of brilliant light or hear the rumble. Unfortunately for him, his private turmoil had only quieted instead of moving on.
Back in his bedroom, Jonah could hear Kendall and company starting up for round two. He buried his head beneath his pillow to drown out the sounds, but it didn’t work. He tried thinking about complex coding techniques to distract his mind, but it didn’t work either. The sounds of his roommate engaging in very enthusiastic sex steered his brain into a direction he seemed incapable of stopping. Behind Jonah’s closed eyelids, visions of the unattainable man tormented him until he could no longer ignore his aching dick.
Jonesing after your intern. Could you be any more cliché?
Flopping onto his back, Jonah looked at his right hand and said, “I guess it’s just you and me again, pal.”
The next morning, Jonah got the shock of his life when he returned to the corner market to pick up his Bugles and saw the skinny white guy standing behind the counter with Mr. Ling. The older man appeared to be teaching the leg pisser how to use the fucking thing.
“You’ve got to be kidding me?” he groused, startling a lady, who grabbed her kid’s hand and bolted out the door.
Mr. Ling looked up and smiled happily. “Ah, it’s Dirty Harry.”
SWG snapped his head up. His eyes widened in alarm, and he began to tremble like a Chihuahua.Good.“C-c-c-can I h-help you?” he managed to stammer out when Jonah reached the counter. His name tag read Dakota, and the red polo uniform shirt made the acne on his face look more prominent. If the Lings hired him to work in the store, the guy was at least twenty-one. He sure didn’t look it.
Jonah didn’t bother hiding his contempt for the pissant. After a long staredown, he shifted his attention to Mr. Ling. “Are you sure this is a good idea?” Jonah asked, gesturing to SWG Dakota in case his question wasn’t clear.
“Yes.” Mr. Ling nodded. “We’ll be just fine.”
“I didn’t rob the store,” Dakota said softly. “I would still be in the broom closet if you hadn’t yanked me out.”
Jonah jerked his focus back to SWG. “So, this is my fault?”
“N-n-no,” Dakota stuttered.
Jonah held out his hand, palm up. “Give me your ID.”
“My ID?” Dakota asked.
“Dirty Harry is a cop. Good guy,” Mr. Ling told Dakota. “Show him so he feels better about you working here.”
Dakota quickly pulled his driver’s license from his wallet and extended it to Jonah with a shaky hand. “Your name is Harry?” he asked.
Ignoring him, Jonah snapped a picture of the ID with his cell phone before returning it.
“His name is Jonah. I just call him Dirty Harry after my favorite character.” Mr. Ling squinted up his face, formed a pistol with his right thumb and forefinger, and lifted his hand. Jonah knew what was coming, but Dakota moved out of the way like he was about to get caught up in the crossfire. Mr. Ling narrowed his eyes and began reciting the famous lines from Dirty Harry, where Clint Eastwood asks a perpetrator if they’re feeling lucky. Dakota jumped when Mr. Ling put big emphasis on the word “punk” at the end.