Page 31 of New Year

“Won’t let you down.”

Chase leaned heavily on his cane as the pair left. Zack stood at the front door and watched them until they’d turned the corner to the private parking lot. Chase had received his handicap tag yesterday, and he’d finally agreed to park in the lot whenever possible. It also weighed down Zack’s chest with a heavy blanket of grief.

Grief he could think about another time. He had a dinner service to run.

* * *

They had two reservation cancellations that night, one at eight and the other at eight-fifteen, which slowed the kitchen down long enough for Zack to fire a simple steak and baked potato for himself. He’d only eaten half when a minor emergency required his attention, and he never got back to the meal.

Normally, he’d scrape the plate, but after his experience saving scraps for a homeless guy one of his waiters knew, Zack packed up the leftovers and took them when he left. Driving around at eleven p.m., hoping to find a homeless person who’d want a half-eaten steak and a baked potato was idiotic, so he went home. Maybe he could make a simple breakfast hash out of them tomorrow morning.

He let himself into the apartment and set the alarm code. Only the light in the bathroom glowed faintly out of his bedroom door. Nat was in the habit of leaving that on for Zack when he worked late and Nat didn’t stay up. Zack smiled at the long lump on his sofa bed, a very welcome presence after too much time alone.

Helikedhaving Nat here.

With his leftovers safely stored, Zack poured a glass of water and crept across the living room to his bedroom. Well, his intention was to creep straight there, but he paused by the side of the sofa bed. Nat was turned away, covers drawn up to his chin, features barely discernible in the dimness.

So innocent in sleep. So pretty.

And so very much off limits.

Zack went into the bathroom to brush his teeth and get ready for bed. He flicked on the dim nightlight he’d bought in case Nat had to use the bathroom in the middle of the night. The apartment was never pitch black, but he didn’t want him to stub a toe or run into Zack’s dresser. He froze turning down his comforter when a noise from the living room pierced the silence. A sharp, brief noise. He waited, unsure if he’d imagined it.

It repeated. Twice.

Curious, Zack crept to his bedroom door. The kitchen was straight ahead, the living room to his right, and the sofa faced his direction. Nat had rolled onto his back. His right arm was trapped beneath the covers, and his left hand was clenching the top blanket. His head jerked to the left at the same time as he released another of those sounds. A begging yelp that broke Zack’s heart.

Nightmare.

Another terrified whimper unstuck Zack’s gears. He eased onto the edge of the sofa bed and reached for Nat’s shoulder. Gave it a hard squeeze. “Nat, wake up.”

Nat released a garbled, shrieking protest. His left arm swung, and Zack couldn’t dodge the fist that slammed into the corner of his chin. He let go of Nat and bounced down the bed, out of reach, chin smarting. Nat yelled something unintelligible as he scrambled up and to the corner of the sofa bed, huddling and shaking like a startled puppy scared of its abusive master.

Zack tried to hunch so he seemed less threatening, completely out of his comfort zone here. He could comfort a sub coming down from an intense scene. He knew how to handle sub drop. He had no idea what to do with someone who’d just come out of a near-screaming nightmare.

“Nat? Nathaniel? It’s Zack.”

Nat stopped shaking but didn’t uncurl his body.

He could work with that. “Hey, it’s Zack. You’re safe, okay? It was just a nightmare.” Everything in Zack wanted to reach out and tuck Nat up against his body, to wrap Nat in his arms and hold him until the horrors in his mind left him alone. But he didn’t dare, not with Nat still curled up in a defensive ball.

Nat needed to reach for him first.

“Nat, it’s Zack Matteson. You’re in my house in Reynolds. You sleep on my sofa bed, and you work for Chase Sampson. Remember? You’re safe.”

Nat mumbled a single word that could have been “Zack” as much as “fuck.” His tightly coiled body loosened by degrees, until he was sitting on his butt, arms curled around bent knees. His head finally raised, face red and creased, chin trembling, but his gaze stayed low. “Hey,” he breathed more than he spoke.

“Hey. You with me, Nat?”

“Yeah. I’m sorry, it was just a nightmare.”

“Some fucking nightmare.” Zack scooted a few inches up the bed, attention on Nat’s face, but Nat wouldn’t meet his eyes. “Nat?”

“I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

“I hadn’t gone to bed yet. I heard you and decided to wakeyouup.”

“Thanks.” Nat finally met his eyes. Zack pulled back on his intense desire to crawl across the bed and hug Nat. To take some of that glowing fear out of his eyes. “It’s nice waking up to a friendly face for a change.”

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