Avery's Desire Pt. 11

The look in Mikey's eyes was chilling. Avery hurried down the hallway, past the bathroom and into the kitchen. He leaned over the counter top and tried to clear his head. It was pounding so bad that he could barely stand it. The wound in his forehead was still bleeding. He wiped the blood away from his eyes. He could feel it pouring down his face, small droplets hitting the tile floor below him.

Avery struggled to hold onto the bat. His legs wobbled, and his hands shook with fear. He felt weak, as though all the strength had been drained from his arms and legs. The entire room was spinning and it took all the strength he had left to force his mind to focus on what was happening. He scanned the counter top, looking for his cell phone. It was there, plugged into the charger where he'd left it earlier. It only had half a charge but that would have to do.

He unplugged it then slipped it into his pants pocket.

He could hear Mikey scuffling down the hallway, grunting and groaning as he walked. Avery had really hurt him, and he was glad. Even though he was scared to death, Avery was also pissed off. The only regret he had now was that Mikey hadn't been the one to get smashed in the head with the damn bat!

He was getting closer, nearly to the guest bed room door. Avery could have made a run for it but he doubted that his legs would have held out, so he stood there, staring at the doorway, waiting. Mikey was panting hard after having the wind knocked out of him. Avery had to smirk. Mikey sure wasn't expecting that. He'd underestimated Avery and his need for self preservation, but even Avery wasn't sure at this point if he'd get another shot in or not.

He wasn't much of a fighter, and he wasn't overly strong to begin with. Even in high school he preferred things like drama class, or literature, and art to sports. P.E was probably his worst subject, and a class that he dreaded going to each day. If it had been up to him, he'd have spent that time perusing the arts, but his father wanted him to spend his time in more masculine activities. It was his futile attempt to mold Avery into the kind of man that he wanted him to become, completely dismissing Avery's own passions.

"You're gonna pay for that cheap shot to my nuts you little shit." Mikey was standing in the doorway glaring at him now. "I had actually thought about going easy on you but you can forget that now. When I get my hands on you, I'm going to break your fucking neck!"

Avery backed up against the refrigerator. The only thing between him and Mikey now was the small kitchen table in the center of the tiny room. He stared at Mikey, eyes wide and the bat secured behind his back. Closer and closer Mikey inched his way towards him spewing insults and curses. He was about a foot from Avery when Avery suddenly brought the bat around and swung hard, aiming for Mikey's head.

Mikey belted out a loud wail as the bat came within inches of his head. He threw himself backwards, smashing into the table with the full force of his body as the bat whooshed past his head and made contact with the wall. White paint and plaster sprayed the room. The sound of the bat hitting the hard surface of the dividing wall was deafening and Avery could feel the force of the strike move up his hands and into his arms in a series of uncontrollable vibrations.

He dropped the bat suddenly; his hands stung and his ears were ringing. Mikey had fallen to the floor along with everything that had been on the table, which too had crashed to the floor under Mikey's weight. Avery took the opportunity to make his escape, thinking that Mikey was unconscious, or at least dazed enough not to notice what had happened. To his horror though, Avery felt Mikey's big hand grip his ankle just as he ran passed him.

Mikey gave a quick jerk and Avery's feet went out from under him; before he even had time to think, the floor rose up to meet him and Avery fell, face down, into the tile.

As Avery's face hit the floor his nose exploded in a torrent of white hot searing pain. He cringed, and cried out as the pain shot through his head in one terrible burst of blinding agony. It was the worst pain he'd ever felt, like a thousand tiny daggers suddenly being plunged into his face and all around his nose at once.

He slowly, shakily, raised himself up and that was when he noticed the blood. It had pooled out around his head beneath him. More blood poured from his nose. There was a throbbing, burning pain in his mouth and chin. He held his hand to his lips and coughed. More blood spurted out and into his opened palm. "Ugh..." He chocked in a small, frail, voice. "F...fuck!"

Behind him Mikey still had a hold of his ankle; he was attempting to pull Avery towards him but when Avery realized this he began to squirm and maneuver himself away. He pushed himself up to his knees, gasping from the pain that was radiating throughout his body. His head was on fire, his legs would not work right, and the entire upper half of his body felt heavy. Breathing was painful, talking was painful, even thinking was painful.

"Now I've got you, you little bastard." Mikey hissed. He'd managed to pull himself to his feet and drag himself to where Avery was laying. Avery tried to turn his head to look at Mikey but his strength was ebbing. It took everything he had in him just to keep from passing out.

"Stay..." He croaked at the other man, "Stay...away..." That was it. He had nothing left. Avery gave a soft groan and dropped his head in defeat. Mikey came up behind him and Avery suddenly felt a sharp, tearing pain in his scalp as Mikey grabbed him by his pony tail and ripped his head up.

"Argh!" Avery yelped. He squinted his eyes shut and gnashed his teeth together as he reached up, clawing at the hands that held him. Mikey pulled the boy up to his knees and turned him around so that he was facing him.

"This is for kicking me in the balls." He said as he punched him in the face. Hate and rage consumed him and he punched him again. Blood sprayed from Avery's nose. His bottom lip split open. Avery let loose with a deep, guttural, cry as he begged Mikey to stop but Mikey was in a fury. He punched him again and again, each strike sending the boy flailing back to the ground only to be pulled up again by his hair to suffer another excruciating blow.

Mikey hit him so hard that his knuckles broke open and bled, but even that didn't stop the assault. He wanted to punch his stupid face off, to see his brains spill out all over the kitchen floor, he wanted him dead.

He pulled his fist back again, ready to smash it into the boy's face with full force but he stopped suddenly and stared at him. Avery coughed blood, then made a kind of sick gurgling sound and whimpered. He held his hand up in front of his face and cried. Mikey rolled his eyes, and then dropped Avery's hair. Avery fell back to the floor with a hard thud. His head lolled to the side.

His breathing came in short, raspy, spurts. His entire body had gone lax and he just laid there, his face a mess of blood and tears. His hand dropped to his side and for a moment Mikey thought he had actually killed him. Panic seized him suddenly as he searched for a pulse.

Mikey sighed with relief, he was still alive, but unconscious. "Fuck, now how am I going to get you out of here?" Mikey stood there for a minute, thinking. His car was parked at the bottom of the stairs and it was dark but he still wasn't sure that he could get him outside without someone seeing them. Still, he couldn't just leave him laying there; he wasn't done with him yet.

Mikey stepped over Avery and went down the hall and into the bathroom. He came out with a dark colored towel that he threw over Avery's face.

Mikey picked the boy up, cradling him in his arms as if he were a small child. He groaned from the effort. Avery was light in weight, but Mikey was still in pain from earlier and he was struggling to hold onto him. "Come on baby boy." He huffed coldly, "We're going for a little ride."