Page 55 of New Year

Chase sat on the end, so he had an easier time getting up and down. Zack was next, with Nat kind of in the middle of the bench. Nat grinned when Zack pulled him closer and wrapped one arm around his waist. It was hot, but a handful of industrial ceiling fans under the pavilion kept air circulating.

The first band played for about twenty minutes, before Shindig’s general manager announced a ten-minute break. Zack left and returned with a platter of Garbage Nachos for their trio to share. For the next few hours, Nat’s world was music, stand-up routines, snacks from the food trucks, and a lot of laughter with his boyfriend and friend.

Boyfriend.

They hadn’t sat down and agreed on labels, but what else were they? Nat loved the idea of being Zack Matteson’s boyfriend. This morning proved how genuinely kind Zack was, that he truly did care about Nat’s emotional and physical well-being. That Nat could trust Zack with his heart and body and mind, and truly fall in love with the man.

During one of the afternoon set breaks, Nat volunteered to take away their collected trash, since he needed a bathroom break. The bathrooms were tucked away in the rear of Shindig, in a cement block building, and he joined the short line to get in. He briefly chatted with two guys his age who remembered him from Tim’s, fielded a few tone-deaf questions about the explosion, and extricated himself from it when it was his turn to go inside and use a urinal. Washed his hands and his face, since he was hot and sweaty, and the bathrooms were not air conditioned.

Nat stepped back out into bright sunshine, and blinked hard as his eyes readjusted to the light. A tall, toned, tanned body blocked his path, and Nat immediately mumbled an apology and tried to side-step the guy. A hand clamped down on his forearm, and Nat’s entire body froze in place at the audacity of this stranger to—fuck.

Fuck.

Austin stared at him from behind a pair of blue-lensed sunglasses. His hair had grown out in longer, thicker black ringlets that glistened with product, and he had a goatee that made him look even more sinister than before. People swirled around them, going about their business, no idea of the terror swamping Nat’s insides like hot tar.

“Natty Boy,” Austin drawled. “You don’t call, you don’t write. Where the fuck have you been?”

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!

Nat’s mouth was dry, his throat frozen. He couldn’t find the words or strength to protest Austin pulling him away from the bathrooms, toward the tall rear fence that separated Shindig from the residential neighborhood behind it. Austin wasn’t being violent or threatening him, so no one around seemed to notice or care about the confrontation unfolding.

Not that it was much of a confrontation, with Nat too scared to speak up or pull his arm away from Austin’s solid grip.

Austin turned him so Nat’s back was to the stone wall, with Austin crowding him against it with his bigger body. He finally let go of Nat’s arm, then rested his palm on the wall by Nat’s head. The position was almost intimate, but it only made Nat want to shit himself. “You did a bad thing, Natty Boy, when you disappeared on me,” Austin hissed, words soft but coated with venom. “I was counting on you, and you let me down.”

Nat opened his mouth but nothing came out, not even a croak of protest. He knew what Austin had been counting on him for that weekend, which was why Nat had packed up and fled, leaving most of his old life behind, even his phone. Left and hidden and scrounged and prostituted himself, but at least those had been Nat’s choices.

“I’d heard rumors that you were around,” Austin continued. “But no one seemed sure of where you were living or what you were doing. I figured you couldn’t stay away from this place.”

It didn’t surprise him that Austin had come here hoping to find Nat. It did, however, infuriate him that Austin was bulldozing his way back into Nat’s carefully reconstructed life. He would not expose Zack or Chase to Austin’s cruelty, not if he could help it. But Austin’s proximity, coupled with this morning’s panic attack, had Nat’s fight instinct stuck. Flight wasn’t even kicking in or urging him to slip away, scream for help.

He was solidly in freeze mode, which experience told him was a far more dangerous place to be.

Austin put his left hand on Nat’s hip and squeezed. The touch sent bile to the back of Nat’s throat, but he couldn’t move. Couldn’t protest. Not even when Austin leaned in closer, and Nat caught a hint of liquor on his breath. “How about you and I go for a ride? I know how much you love my car. I just got it back from the shop, and she’s cruising like a dream. We can go to our spot.”

Their spot.

When Nat first started dating Austin, they’d drive southwest into the mountains, off a rural road to a picnic spot near Sparrow Creek. They’d splash around in the icy water, search for shiny pebbles, share snacks and hard seltzers, and then have sex on a blanket in full view of anyone who might drive up. It had been Nat’s first time having sex in public, and it had been thrilling, doing something so dangerous and illicit. It had been romantic and joyful, the scenery peaceful and gorgeous.

For a little while.

The hand on his hip slid farther back, fingers slipping under the waistband of his shorts. That violating touch jolted through Nat like a cattle prod. He couldn’t stop his body’s reaction if he tried. His stomach heaved once, and he vomited nachos, a slice of pizza, and diet cola all over Austin.

Austin screeched and lurched backward. Nat doubled over, still spitting the remnants of his lunch onto the ground, his body trying to turn itself inside out. He was hot and cold all over, and he started shaking so badly he fell onto his ass, back still against the stone wall. Voices around him made no sense. Some people were laughing, others making disgusted sounds. He was sure this would end up on someone’s social media feed.

Whatever. Austin wasn’t touching him anymore.

“Hey, honey, are you okay?” a female voice asked. “Is it heat stroke?”

For a moment, Nat thought she was asking him the second question. Then a man replied, “It could be. Does anyone know what happened?”

Nat tuned out the voices offering words like “confrontation” and “standing close” and “ran off covered it vomit,” and concentrated on making sure his stomach was finished heaving its contents all over the cement. A bottle of water appeared in front of him, and Nat took it, grateful to be able to swish the bitter taste out of his mouth, even though it was stuck in his nose, too. Ugh, he was a mess, and he needed Zack. Zack would help him make sense of all this.

Someone squeezed his shoulder; Nat flinched away. “You with us, honey?” the woman asked.

“Yeah,” Nat rasped. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay. It’s hot out today, and as long as you tell me you haven’t been drinking, we won’t have any problems, you and me.”

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