Booker's Abandon: A Fictional Narrative

Seconds later, Booker’s tranquil face came into view and he managed a tense smile. “Sorry,” he mumbled, his cheeks flaming with embarrassment. He felt like a fool because he knew both Booker and Levine were trying to help him, but he was struggling to control the fear that was steadily rising, making it difficult for him to breathe.

He knew it was going to be an extremely long few days in the company of a man who was able to provoke a reaction out of him so effortlessly, and he silently cursed his short fuse. If he did not want Booker to get the better of him, he needed to pull himself together, act like a professional and not let his dark-haired protagonist to distract him from doing his job. He could not allow Booker’s presence to unnerve him because if he did, it would reveal his vulnerabilities and he would rather die than give his nemesis more ammunition to use against him. Therefore, come hell or high water, he knew he had to stay calm, otherwise Booker would win and he would be open to even more

With his cheeks burning red, Booker nervously wiped the sweat from his palms on his denim-clad legs. “I dunno, he’s beautiful, like strikingly beautiful. Since Doug’s death, there’s a glimmer of vulnerability that lies just below the surface that never used to be there. But he’s also incredibly stubborn and strong-minded, like me and I guess that’s why we fight so much. I s’pose you could say he’s kinda complicated, but that’s what makes him so appealing. He’s unpredictable, which can be frustrating, but it also makes life interesting, you know?”

“You’re hurt,” Tom stated, his laconic responses beginning to grate on Booker’s nerves. “He hurt you.”

But when he caught sight of the wistful look in Booker’s eyes, he felt like a prick tease. He’d given his lover false hope by implying their relationship was moving toward a more mutually beneficial arrangement, but at the last moment, he’d chickened out, leaving Booker wanting. After everything he and Booker had been through, he wanted their lives together to move forward and the only way he could perceive that happening was to prove his love. Deep down, he knew he was ready for the next step, but he’d allowed his anxiety to convince him otherwise. He was man enough to admit he was nervous, but he was tired of living in fear. Despite their propensity for passionate outbursts, he knew in his heart their love was the real deal, and he wanted to express it physically as well as emotionally. Love wasn’t always easy, it required dedication, sacrifice, and above all, commitment. And he was committed, one-hundred percent committed, and the time had come to show Booker his

“He’s stable. He lost a lot of blood, which is why he lost consciousness. The bullet didn’t cause any major damage and was simple to take out. He’s going to be fine.” Dr. Blake informed. “He’s awake and you may go see him. He’s in room 14.”

Derek screams while thrusting himself into a sitting position in the uncomfortable hospital bed, and the pain which he felt earlier commenced. A nurse ran in and began checking Derek’s vitals making sure that his body wasn't in shock or shutting down. “Your fine,” the nurse with bags under her gray eyes stated. “Don’t yell unless you are dying.”

Tom had exposed his weakness, leaving Booker wondering if he could be bothered getting to know someone who wasn’t prepared to stand up and fight. While there was no denying he was physically attracted to the pretty officer, his lack of fortitude bothered him. He’d never come across anyone like Tom, and while the young officer’s uniqueness fascinated him, he was still unsure whether it was a good thing or a bad thing, and he figured, only time would tell.

Cousins takes the reader on his journey by giving the reader access to the thought process which enabled him to solidify his determination to do what it took to heal himself. The reader nods along as Cousins determines that hospital procedures

“Talk to me, Tommy,” he murmured into his friend’s dirty hair. “If you think Booker’s in danger, you need to tell me what’s going on.”

“I’ll explain later,” Booker declared in a rush of words, his eyes flitting nervously between Tom and the basement door. “We need to get out of here.”

"It's okay, will put you on antibiotics, until your wounds fully heal, okay?" My aunt asks him.

“Just go,” Dean breathed pulling her close. She was awake and tears were falling from her eyes she couldn’t speak gasping for breath but she gently rubbed his arms. As if he was the one who needed comforting.

Booker stood with his back to the wall, his arms held rigidly at his sides as per Holland’s instructions. Clothed only in the silk bow tie, the conscious awareness of his nakedness had him cringing in shame. Six pairs of eyes feasted hungrily on his naked flesh, their probing gaze heating his face, and as the long minutes ticked by, he could feel his self-esteem slowly ebbing away. Through clever manipulation, Holland had reduced his status from competent cop to worthless whore, and the idea that someone could have such a coercive power over him was not only aggravating, it was also soul-destroying. He was a piece of meat, his body placed on display for the sexual gratification of the mogul’s dinner guests, and he could not help but wonder

Chester floundered on his words, trying unsuccessfully to swallow the lump in his throat as he looked between his parents. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, his father spoke gruffly, “The doctor said you’ll be fine, boy. You’ve just got to heal. They said when you could talk, you could move to a lower priority room, start getting ready to come home in a few more days.”