Fist to the Heart Ch. 10

"Nigel," he said.

"Hmm," Nigel purred into his ear.

Nigel hed him by the waist. Ruslan knew that standing on two legs was bound to be a little problematic so he couldn't mind. But Nigel's hot breath on his cheek made him want to pull away.

"You look like you would need a bit of rest." Nigel pushed him into a small dark gang and put him with his back against the wall.

And suddenly, pressed his lips against Ruslan's. Despite the weakness in his bones, Ruslan found it in him to push the other away.

Nigel's hold on him tightened. "How come you're still resisting?"

Ruslan could feel a cold chill rushing down his spine. "What do you mean by that?" he asked.

He could not even keep his head straight.

"Just put out already." Nigel began to fumble with Ruslan's pants.

"Hey," Ruslan protested. "Stop. What the fuck, dude?"

"Shut the fuck up, slut," Nigel said through his teeth, as Ruslan pushed him away again.

"What the fuck did you just call me?" Ruslan tried to fight through the haze of his confusion.

"I called you what you are," Nigel said viciously.

"Fuck off." Ruslan made a move to walk away.

But Nigel caught him and slammed him hard against the wall. That was not as surprising as the hard slap across the face that followed.

"All I want is a quick fuck from you," Nigel said. "And I'm going to get it."

"I don't think so," someone else said.

Ruslan barely had the time to turn his head to look at the newcomer. Nigel disappeared from his field of view as if hit by a freight train.

Only that it wasn't a freight train, but Johnny's well-placed fist.

"Get off me!" Nigel cried out as Johnny grabbed him and made him meet the wall face first.

Ruslan winced. His heart was beating fast, and he was blinking, his mind slowly making sense of what was happening.

"Leave him," Ruslan begged, grabbing Johnny's arm before he could make Nigel's face have a taste of his fist again.

Johnny's muscles were pure, pulsing granite; Ruslan could feel that under his fingers. But he stopped.

"You sure?" he asked, his voice rough.

"Yes. Let me make a call. Someone will come," Ruslan shook his head, "to clean this mess."

Nigel turned, with the intention to hit Johnny, but the fighter moved fast, and he stumbled forward, meeting the pavement face first, this time around.

"Let me just call -" Ruslan mumbled.

Even breathing was hard. Johnny pulled the phone out of his hand.

"We're just going to leave this fucker here," Johnny said gravely. "Now I'm taking you home."

Ruslan didn't protest. Johnny was right, and the fighter's arm around him was reassuring. It was all that he needed right now.

***

Ruslan's skin was flushed, his breath a bit too quick.

"Do you want to go to a hospital?" Johnny asked, now concerned.

"No." Ruslan gripped his arm. "Take me home. He spiked my drink. But I don't want the hospital. They'll ... ask questions. And I can't say anything against that guy. Papa won't like it."

Johnny could feel his jaw tensing. So papa was willing to let his son get molested by that scumbag and keep everything quiet, for fear of what? Some scandal?

"Johnny," Ruslan begged, pressing against him. "Take me home and take care of me. It's all I want right now. Trust me; I'll be fine. Just -"

"Okay, pretty, okay," Johnny replied. "That I can do. I can definitely do that."

He gestured for a cab. The yellow car pulled next to him, and Johnny carefully helped Ruslan inside. He could take care of him. And later, he needed to find a way to free himself of the burden he had dragged after him for years.

TBC