Page 75 of New Year

Nat expected to be sore for a while, based on having been beaten before, but nothing prepared him for howsorehe was over the next few weeks. Everything hurt, from his toes to his hair, and the worst of the aches weren’t even in his various stab wounds, but in his heart. Austin had cut him deeply there without ever touching him with a blade.

Austin’s death was ruled self-defense and the case closed. The recording of the assault was filed away with the other evidence, never to see the light of day again.

That didn’t remove the millstone of guilt from around Nat’s neck. He’d saved Zack’s life, and his own, but he’d also shot a man twice and killed him. He didn’t know how to live with that. He’d barely managed to have the much-needed conversation with Zack about the details of those few hours in the woods, but he’d gotten through it with endless love and support from Zack. The sheer terror of being killed, the agony of the flogger beating, the self-loathing over willingly sucking on Austin’s nuts to create a distraction.

No real sense of pride over his escape, not even when Zack hugged him and said, “I’m so goddamn proud of you,” over and over.

Nat had survived, but at what cost? How was he supposed to live with himself after taking a life?

A few local and state news outlets—and a handful of social media commentary channels that knew about Austin and his online exploits—reached out for comment, but Nat refused. There was no point in further exposing Austin. All kinds of things were already in newspaper articles, blog posts, and video clips. Let social media speculate on all the ways Austin had been a monster. Their imagination couldn’t be any worse than the truth. Nat wanted to put it behind him, not gain online infamy.

River Bistro was seeing brisk business, their reservation books full through September, thanks to Zack’s heroics in the woods. Zack, meanwhile, had hired new temporary front-of-house staff, so he could focus on the business end and remain out of the public spotlight. He hadn’t done anything for accolades or clout, and he showed no interest in personal gain over his actions. Nat loved him even more for taking that stance, when the extra publicity meant a financial boon for the restaurants.

Chase agreed with Zack, too, so they were both keeping low profiles. They’d gotten a few nasty online reviews, mostly homophobic, but Zack didn’t fuss over them. He fussed over Nat, as often as possible. And when he couldn’t be home to fuss, he’d hired a daytime aide to help both Nat and Chase, while Nat was out of commission as Chase’s helper.

Sasha came to visit him a few times, always bringing a sweet treat or a bag of his favorite salty snacks. Angelo stopped by once, as did Shelton, and Nat appreciated the support. He didn’t have a lot of friends, so each smiling face gave him hope of a larger support circle going forward.

But Nat couldn’t hear a car alarm without dissolving into a full-blown panic attack, and around mid-August—and at Chase’s urging—Nat made an appointment with a trauma therapist. It was expensive without insurance, but Chase and Zack both contributed for the sake of Nat’s healing and mental health. Not only from Austin’s abuse, but also the things from his childhood he’d never addressed, examined, or tried to process.

His body healed faster than his mind, and by the end of August, Nat was back working for Chase on a daily basis. They’d installed the metal gate across the side porch, which helped Nat move between the two residences with ease. But he’d yet to go anywhere by himself since the kidnapping. Even for his own therapy appointments, Chase or Zack went with him and sat in the waiting room.

As expected, Neighborhood Shindig announced live music and featured specials on Labor Day Monday. Nat hadn’t returned since the Fourth, and even without the threat of running into Austin ever again, Nat wasn’t sure he could face the crowds. The possible gawkers, the questions, the curious stares everywhere he went. Sure, he’d let his hair get shaggier, and he had a short beard now, so the slight disguise could help.

But thepeople. The potentialthreats.

The Thursday before Labor Day, while helping Chase with their usual housecleaning routine, Chase made an offhand comment about Shindig. Nat nearly knocked over a porcelain vase he was trying to dust. He’d only been half paying attention to Chase’s ramblings about the increase in the cost of fresh beef this month.

“What?” Nat asked. “What about Shindig?”

Chase was using an extendable duster to reach a corner of the ceiling. “Just musing on what specials they’ll have at Shindig on Monday, what with the prices of meat going up. Maybe they’ll do vegetarian options like that one event they threw last year.”

“Maybe.”

“Not curious?”

“I don’t know if I want to do go.”

“That’s understandable.” Chase retracted the duster then sat on the arm of the sofa. “Zack mentioned your plans were uncertain.”

“He’s dropped hints but hasn’t asked me outright. I think he’s trying not to push me, you know?”

“Asking a question is hardly pushing. You’re nervous about the crowd?”

“Yes.”

“Have you discussed this with your therapist?”

“Yes and no. And it’s not just about the crowd size. That kind of thing doesn’t bother me on its own. It’s the idea of people gawking at me, seeing me as some sort of sideshow exhibit that they feel sorry for, because something bad happened to me. I already went through that after Tim’s exploded, and now this?”

Chase nodded. “I can sympathize with that feeling to a degree. Men my age leaning on a cane often brings staring eyeballs and silent scrutiny.”

“It’s bigger than Austin, though. Bigger than all the scars he left on my body.”

“Something to do with your mother?”

Nat’s throat tightened. “Yeah.”

“Have you talked to Zack about that?”

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