Hookups

Chapter Six (Kit)

I've begun to worry because it's dark out now and Tate still isn't back. I've tried calling him but he left his damn phone here. I pulled on my shoes as I stumbled my way to the door in a hurry to find him and got in my car. It wasn't until I was about I was halfway to the Cortez that I noticed a black car with tinted windows following close behind me. I took multiple turns to see if it really was... and it was. I drove to a warehouse out in the middle of no where and got out, striding to the car and pounding on the window.

"What the hell man!" I hollered through the glass. The door swung open, making me stumble back a little and a man stepped out who looked like he was dressed in the 20's.

"You must be the fellow who had intercourse with my boyfriend," He shot a hand out, "James March."

I took his hand hesitantly, "Kit... Kit Walker," I try to take my hand back but James still has a strong grip on it and yanks me towards him.

"Now," He grinned, "It's a pleasure to meet you," He released my hand, harshly, "Might I ask... do you normally have sex with men who are already in a committed relationship?"

"N-no, it just-"

"Then why did you let it happen!" James hollered, then sucked in a long, heavy breath and ran his hands in his hair, "My deepest apologizes... I'm working on my anger."

"That's alright... you wouldn't happen to know where Tate is, would you?" It's as if the mention of his name set James off because before I could even blink, he was shoving me down to the ground, dirt darkening my clothes.

"He was going to be my husband! I was going to propose to him before you swooped in and ruined it!" James kicked me hard in the stomach, "Ruined it!" His kick sent me rolling over and coughing.

"What the fuck... I'm sorry, I had no idea..."

"So, he didn't mention me once?" I didn't respond, just looking at him. He scoffed, "Asshole," Before I could think, he pulled out a gun and shot me in the stomach and hit me in the head with the butt of the gun. Black spotted my vision and James must of thought I was dead, or didn't care weather or not I was, because he strode back to his car. He was gone with a wind, in seconds, as if he was never there. I was left alone, bleeding, in the middle of no where. The sound of the cold wind rustling up against the leaves in the trees was the only thing that comforted me. And the only thing that kept me from passing out was the thought of Tate.