A Love so Lonely excerpt

EXCERPT

Three

Avow

 “You!” The hunter yells, a mocking tone spoiling his otherwise serious demeanor. “I will break that girly body of yours in two before you can even throw a punch.”

“Why not come here and show me then?”

Judging by the bulk and height of the hunter, Jonathan knows he probably doesn’t stand a chance, but to him it is also a known fact, men of size are slow, and lack endurance, he’d just have to outsmart him.

A landslide of stones and sand accompanies the hurried progression of the hunter down the river bank toward Jonathan, giving chase to the erratic beat of Jonathan’s heart. The smell of the young warrior’s blood growing stronger, and Jonathan is certain the boy caught in the trap does not have much time before he bleeds out. Jonathan rushes towards the hunter, now in attack mode.

The sun in full rise glistens off the rapids, causing him temporary blindness. Jonathon changes direction causing the hunter to alter pace and direction so that the gleam is now in his advantage and working against the hunter. With only a moment to make an impact he runs at the brute, ducks beneath the bulking fist swinging his way and strikes at the tall hunter’s knees with one swift kick. Jonathan drifts over loose pebbles and dry sand before coming to a stop. The hunter stumbles for a moment, and Jonathan gives a low swooping kick from behind, thrusting the hunter’s already faltering feet out from under him. As the hunter comes down, Jonathan grabs a large stone, cartwheeling over the sprawled out man, and manages to come down with a stoned fist to the man’s temple. He then jumps out of reach and waits, but the man does not get up as he expects. He watches in surprise as a fast flow of blood stains the riverbed and streams between pebbles. Jonathan is too shocked to gag at the sight of blood. “It worked?”  He realizes with a cold jolt to his core, dark tendrils of fear threatening to choke him – did he just kill a man? Anchored to the spot pure shock courses through him and his eyes meet the Native’s – brown eyes both relieved and surprised. Jonathan’s gaze hits the dead hunter’s body one more time, “Of course it worked.” He mumbles to himself and discards the stone.  When he looks over to the brown eyed boy he notices him struggling viciously trying to free himself from the trap, about to strike down with his machete to sever his leg.