Page 16 of New Year (Reconstruction #3)

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Zack was true to his word about upping security at the house, and with each new camera or precaution they implemented, the more Nat relaxed and believed they’d be okay. Nat hated the idea of carrying a gun around—he couldn’t imagine himself ever shooting another human being, even in self-defense—so he put pepper spray on his keys, and he kept a Taser in Chase’s car. He was careful to take different routes to the same places, and he no longer ran errands alone. If Chase or Zack weren’t available, he reached out to Sasha as an errand buddy.

It was amazing having another friend who had his back. And he had hers.

Nat also wasn’t hiding anymore, because hiding gave Austin power over his life. He and Zack went to Tim’s a few times, just to share drinks and bar snacks, and because they were fucking dating. He wasn’t going to let Austin steal the joy of dating a wonderful, supportive, generous man who treated Nat like a human being, rather than a sex toy.

July inched closer to August in a trail of stifling hot temperatures that made being outdoors unbearable. Nat still occasionally dashed into Neighborhood Shindig for food, but even with the pavilion fans moving air, it was still too thick for his comfort. A tropical storm watch had everyone battening down the hatches all over town. They ended up with a lot of rain and wind and scattered tree branches in the yard, but no serious damage.

Chase was in good spirits and good health, and he was spending more time at his restaurants than brooding at home, which was both good and bad for Nat. If Chase was at work, it gave Nat free time. Free time meant options for what Nat did and where he went, which also made him a target for Austin. It became a delicate balancing act of being in the world and protecting himself from harm.

So far, so good.

And the frequent, attentive, blissful sex that Nat and Zack had on a regular basis was another wonderful bonus. He’d half-expected Zack to dump him after learning about the online porn and pay-to-play shit Nat had participated in, but Zack hadn’t. He’d proved himself the most patient, understanding person on the planet by not judging Nat.

Out loud, anyway.

Most days, Nat still judged himself for being a victim. First to his mother’s abuse and manipulation, and then to Austin’s. But he felt no judgement from Zack. And that was everything.

The last Thursday in July, Chase wanted to be at the restaurant. Zack would bring him home after closing, which gave Nat an unexpected day off. Since he had Chase’s car, and he hadn’t seen or heard from Austin since the Fourth, Nat decided to go to the Washburn Mall. It wasn’t a big mall, and the stores mostly catered to the large crowd of college students who would be returning to campus next month. But it was air conditioned, and he was craving an Auntie Anne’s pretzel.

The mall also had a movie theater. After about an hour of wandering in and out of stores, mostly window shopping, he treated himself to a movie. Looked at the board and bought a random ticket, then got a bucket of popcorn and a soda, because if he was going to treat himself, he was going to do it right. The movie ended up being a quiet drama that left Nat feeling hopeful about life, so he was in a terrific mood on the drive home.

He texted Zack about his day, and that he was home safe, which had become his habit. Checking in for safety reasons. Nothing exciting in the mail, except the security catalogue Zack had requested. He and Chase had discussed installing a metal gate across the front of the side porch, so they could move between Chase’s house and their apartment without constantly locking and unlocking their front doors.

A gate would definitely make life easier.

He was in such a good mood that he decided to share it with his boyfriend. He took a long shower, then put the lube and a few condoms on the bedside table in an obvious way. His belly wiggled at the thought of finally having the “We’re serious, let’s ditch condoms” conversation. He trusted Zack to be faithful to him, but it was such a huge step, and he wasn’t sure he was ready to take it yet. He was still healing from all the trauma Austin had heaped on him, plus some of the things he’d done while hooking. He’d gotten tested, but still….unsure.

The apartment was clean and tidy, but Nat still turned on music and ran the vacuum. Dusted clean shelves and wiped down the sparkling countertops. It helped pass time, and he was amped up when headlights flashed in the window. They were home. Nat changed the music from upbeat to something softer and more romantic, then stripped down to his briefs. Listened at the door while Zack and Chase said their goodnights.

Took a few steps back and rested his elbow on the edge of the counter. Cocked his hips just so and waited for his beloved boyfriend to open the door. Zack froze mid-step, his smile going instantly feral when his eyes met Nat’s. Zack bolted the door, punched in the security code, and was across the room before Nat could take two breaths.

He drew Zack into their bedroom with kisses and touches and leisurely strokes, and when he was ready, Nat welcomed his lover into his body with the same. They moved together for what felt like hours, kissing and nipping, and rolling their hips. Making love in all the right, most pleasurable ways for them. Nat adored the thick slide of Zack’s cock in his body, the way it always made him feel treasured and adored. Seen and felt and loved by this amazing man.

They lay together for a long time after, Zack’s fingers gently caressing his butt, occasionally dipping a naughty finger between his cheeks to rub his hole. Nat imagined Zack was feeling for his come, reminding himself of all the pleasure they’d given each other, impatient for the next time he could come inside Nat. But what if that wasn’t what Zack was thinking? What if he was wondering how much longer he had to chill there, until he could politely excuse himself to shower?

Stop it, that’s Austin making you doubt this.

He hated the ways Austin had destroyed his self-confidence and made him doubt every good thing in his life.

“What are you thinking about?” Nat asked.

“How much I love this and want to protect it. Us.” Zack shifted so he could look down, right into Nat’s eyes. “How much I love you.”

Nat’s heart trilled, and his breath caught. Zack had said it first. “You do? Really?”

“Yes, really.” He kissed him, a gentle promise. “I love you, Nathaniel Hawking.”

Nat wanted to say the words back, to voice the feelings in his heart, but he couldn’t get his tongue to unstick or his lips to move. He hoped the emotions were in glowing his eyes and shining from his smile.

“It’s okay if you can’t say it yet,” Zack whispered, his fingers sifting through Nat’s hair. “You know how I feel. And I love you.”

Gratitude surged through Nat, and he drew Zack down for another, longer kiss. He put his emotions into that kiss, into the hard thrust of his tongue and press of his mouth. They kissed and stroked and silently shared their love, until they were both hard again.

Nat reached for another condom.

* * *

Zack left for work the next day in an exceptionally good mood, and it had everything to do with Nat. Living with Nat, making love to Nat, holding Nat, cooking breakfast with Nat. Finally telling Nat that he loved him. Just remembering the moment made him grin like a loon. The complete shock and delight in Nat’s eyes had been breathtaking. And even though Nat hadn’t said it back, Zack felt the words in every action and look and touch.

His cell rang just as he found a parking spot a block from the restaurant. The restaurant was calling him. Odd, when they knew he’d be there in five more minutes. “It’s Zack.”

“Mr. Matteson, I’m sorry to bother you when you’re on your way here,” Marie said in a slightly stressed tone that raised Zack’s hackles. “But I think the man you told us to be on the lookout for was just seated in the French Garden room.”

“Austin’s there?” Zack nearly spat the words. He climbed out of his car without paying attention and was nearly clipped by a passing truck. He ignored the horn blaring at him and started jogging down the street toward River Bistro II.

“I think so. I looked at the photo several times, but the man who’s here is wearing a hat, so I can’t be sure if he has the same hair color.”

One of Zack’s precautions had been to print out a social media photo of Austin and have it posted in the prep area of both restaurants, so all the staff knew to call Zack if Austin showed up. Zack wanted to be on the premises and test the waters, see if Austin knew who Zack was, or if he was just dining there as a casual customer.

“Thank you, Marie, I’ll be there in a few minutes. Serve him like usual, all right?”

“Yes, sir.” She ended the call.

Zack slowed once the restaurant was in sight, so he didn’t arrive a sweaty, panting mess to his own establishment. Instead of the front door, he went down the alley to the kitchen door, and went inside. Returned familiar greetings on his way to the bathroom, so he could check his appearance. If Austin was here by chance, Zack didn’t want to appear overly hostile.

Yet.

Marie met him in the hallway. “Shelton has his table,” she said. “So far, he’s ordered an espresso martini and is considering an appetizer.”

“Thank you, Marie. I’ll take it from here.” Even though Zack had yet to meet Austin in person, Nat had showed him an online video clip of Austin. Zack knew the bastard’s voice.

He smoothed the front of his shirt then strolled through his restaurant. A regular guest was in the Italian Veranda room, so he lingered at her table and chatted for a few minutes. Her entrée arrived, which gave him the perfect excuse to gravitate toward the French Garden room. He hovered by the entrance. Four of the six tables were occupied, but only one had a single man wearing a black golf cap—a hat indoors, like the pretentious asshole he was. Even if that wasn’t Austin, it was damned rude. This wasn’t a McDonald’s.

The hat-wearing man was sitting angled toward the window, so Zack only had about a quarter of his profile in view. Shelton passed Zack with the espresso martini. The guest ordered something that Shelton wrote on his pad. His cell was out, and as soon as Shelton walked away, he picked it up to do something. Probably take pictures or start filming. They didn’t have a no-filming policy, as long as the person doing it wasn’t being obnoxious or trying to film other guests.

Zack shifted out of sight, and when Shelton passed him again, Zack flagged him down.

“When his appetizer is ready, I’m going to deliver it,” Zack said softly.

Shelton frowned. “Do you think it’s the guy in your picture? Marie told me she called you.”

“It could be. I’ll know when I bring his food and speak to him.”

“Can I be a nosey nelly and ask what he did?”

Zack debated his response for about two seconds. “The man in our dining room? Maybe nothing. The guy in the picture I posted in the kitchen? He hurt Nat.”

Shelton stared at him blankly, then glared. “He’s Nat’s ex?”

“Yes.” Zack was not one to ever discuss his personal life at work, so no one except Chase knew about his relationship with Nat. But the staff had seen Nat accompany Chase to the restaurant on at least a dozen occasions, Shelton included, so they knew Zack and Nat were friendly. “He told me enough about his ex that I want to stick the guy’s dick into a pencil sharpener and grind it into meatloaf, but I’m not going to do that. I’m more useful to Nat out here, not in jail.”

“Okay. Thank you, sir. I’m glad Nat’s got you watching his back.”

“You’re welcome, and I’m happy to do it. Better put your ticket in.”

Shelton nodded and headed for the kitchen. Zack hovered for a while, but the man in the hat didn’t turn his head. Around the time the app should be ready, Zack went into the kitchen. When the ticket was called, Zack picked up the plate of today’s flatbread special and carried it into the French Garden room. Carefully placed it on the table in front of his guest with the ramekin of dipping oil at exactly ten o’clock.

The hat-wearing guest looked up and smiled at Zack. “Thank you, this looks amazing.”

That voice. That voice. Zack swallowed his rising rage and said, “You are very welcome. Are you a new guest to River Bistro?”

“Not completely new. I was here about a year ago. I heard a rumor that the place was under new management, so I thought I’d see if the menu had improved.”

The slight insult didn’t pass Zack’s notice. “The owner has stepped back quite a bit in the day-to-day, but yes, I’m the new GM. Zachary Matteson, at your service.”

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Matteson. I appreciate the personal touch.”

“Our mission here at River Bistro is to provide an enjoyable experience to go along with excellent food and service.”

“Well, I look forward to testing that mission statement.”

There it was. The slight flicker in Austin’s eyes, the way they went darker, like a predator who’s spotted their prey. It sent a chill down Zack’s spine, but his smile never wavered. “Please, enjoy your appetizer.”

“We’ll see.”

Zack swallowed back all the things he really wanted to say as he walked away, and redirected his negative energy into chatting up the guests at the next table. He was ninety percent sure Austin knew exactly who Zack was, but until he was completely sure, he needed to observe Austin. As much as he wanted to make sure all his cooks spit in Austin’s entrée, Zack had more pride and professionalism than that.

He was also very aware of Austin’s love of social media, and the last thing Zack wanted was for his restaurant to go viral over a confrontation. Even though everything inside of him wanted to haul Austin to the door and dropkick him into the street, preferably in front of an oncoming car, Zack had to be the bigger man.

He didn’t want to; he had to. He couldn’t protect Nat if he ended up in jail for assault.

Zack went into the kitchen and made sure Austin’s entrée was plated perfectly, grateful it wasn’t a steak that had to be cooked to a specific temperature. Too many people thought they knew how they liked their steaks cooked and were just plain wrong. Or they were assholes who liked watching servers go back and forth to the kitchen like windup toys. He gave the plate to Shelton, who quirked his eyebrow as he took it, asking a silent question. Zack didn’t confirm anything. He didn’t need Shelton saying or doing something to tip Austin off.

Other minor issues arose, as they did during any service, and Zack handled everything. By the time he had a moment to check on the French Garden room, Shelton was delivering a dessert plate to Austin. Zack caught Shelton in the hall outside the kitchen. “Did he have any complaints about the entrée?”

Shelton shook his head. “No, he said it was excellent when I asked. The plate was pretty clean. You’re handling this a lot better than I would.”

“This is my place of business, and I won’t taint our reputation with a confrontation if I can avoid it. I’ll let him go about his business and post his review, if he chooses, and then the next time he tries to eat here—if there is a next time—we’ll drop the ban hammer.”

“Ban hammer. I think you’re showing your age, boss.”

“Probably. Let me know when you run his final ticket. I’ll deliver his receipt.”

“I left the receipt folder with his dessert. I’ll go get it in a moment.”

“Thanks, Shelton.”

A few minutes later, Zack joined Shelton at the POS to run Austin’s credit card. Austin Daniels. Zack finally had a last name. Excellent. Zack put the Customer and Merchant copies and a pen inside the folder with Austin’s credit card, and Zack took it back to Austin’s table.

“How was your dining experience this afternoon?” Zack asked. “I noticed you ordered my favorite dessert. The orange flan is the perfect way to end a meal.”

“It was exceptional, Mr. Matteson, thank you,” Austin replied, a little too smarmy and charming. “I plan to spend the afternoon putting together a little review video for my social media followers. May I have permission to film a little B-roll of the interior of the restaurant before I leave?”

Zack smiled like that was the most astonishing news he’d ever received. “Are you an influencer?”

“I consider myself more of a content creator than an influencer.” Austin, the pretentious prick, actually pulled a business card out of his pocket with a QR-code on it. “I hope you enjoy my review.”

“I’m sure I will. And yes, you may take some B-roll, but please, don’t film the other guests without their permission. I don’t want anything to disrupt their experience.”

“Understandable. I don’t like making strangers uncomfortable when I film.”

No, just your boyfriend, you absolute horror of a human being.

Zack’s smile never wavered. “You enjoy the rest of your afternoon, and I’ll look for that review.” He pocketed the card and strode out of the dining room, skin crawling from his proximity to that monster. He wanted to drive straight home and take a hot shower. Hug Nat tight. But he had hours left on his shift, and Nat was taking Chase to a physical therapy appointment this afternoon.

They were all busy, like the adults they were. Not out dropping sixty bucks on a two-martini lunch in the middle of a Friday, pretending to be internet famous with an opinion others cared about. It nauseated Zack to think Austin probably did have a decent following. The man had charisma that would translate well to film, to getting his point across and tricking people into thinking he had something important to say.

All while assaulting his supposed boyfriend behind the scenes and on a private website.

Now that he had Austin’s last name, though, Zack could do a little more private digging. After work. Going upstairs to his office and losing himself for a few hours online was tempting, but it could wait.

He passed Shelton with his arms full of empty plates. “That Austin guy, boss?” Shelton said. “Tipped twenty-five-percent.”

“Impressive.” He’d half-expected the asshole to draw a smiley face on the Tip line. “I’m glad he isn’t a public-facing asshole.”

“Just a private one?”

“Mega private one. Thanks for everything, Shelton. And when his face does go on the official ban list, please don’t gossip about why.”

Shelton smiled. “Why what, boss?”

“Exactly.”

Something banged loudly in the kitchen. Zack sighed and went to investigate the noise.

* * *

Chase was always exhausted after physical therapy, and today’s session was no different. He also admitted he hadn’t slept well the night before, for no particular reason, so Nat wasn’t surprised Chase dozed off in the car on the drive home. Nat decided to take a circular route and listen to music while Chase napped, and they arrived home around three. He turned off the car, so he could use his keys to unlock Chase’s front door and turn off the alarm, before waking Chase.

He was groggy and grumpy, but he managed to limp inside the house. Nat kicked the door shut behind him and helped Chase over to the recliner. Took off his shoes and fetched him the glass of sweet tea he asked for. He’d put a roast and veggies in the slow cooker before they left for the appointment, so the house was fragranced with beef and onions and spices. Nat’s stomach growled happily, but the food wouldn’t be ready until closer to six. The carrots always seemed to take the longest to cook, and he wanted the beef fork-tender.

He checked the pot and all seemed well. While he was near the mud room, he also locked the door. Chase was wholly focused on something on his tablet when Nat returned to the living room with a can of root beer to sip. “Exciting news article?”

“Better. I didn’t tell you? Zack finally upgraded the restaurant security systems, so I can watch the live feed from my tablet. Even if I can’t go in myself, I can still see what’s going on. Such as your boyfriend bussing a table right now.”

“Zack’s bussing a table? Really?” Nat circled the recliner. The tablet showed four separate windows, each with a camera number in the top corner. It looked like Zack was in the Mediterranean Villa room. “Nice to see the boss getting his hands dirty.”

“Yes, well, some of the best head chefs in the country started out bussing tables and worked their way up. Not everyone can afford culinary school, same as any college or trade school. Education is too damned expensive in this country.”

“Agreed. I dropped out because I couldn’t afford it anymore.”

“Yes, and then you found a possible new path. I enjoy your companionship, and you have an empathic spirit, Nathaniel. There are different schools and certifications you can look in to if you wish to pursue a career in the home care industry.”

Nat sat on the couch. “What? Getting sick of me already?”

“Hardly, but I don’t always need you lingering about, and it might be a good idea to look at some part-time class options. Again, if this is a field you can see yourself in long-term.”

“I’m not sure. You’re a really easy person to get along with. I’m not sure how I’d do with other patients. Especially, you know, dementia patients. Ones who might get violent.”

Chase flinched. “That’s very true, I hadn’t thought of that. You’ve survived enough violence already.”

“But it is something to think about, so thank you. The longer I live here and work for you and feel safe? The easier it gets to think a little further into the future.”

“I’m glad. You’re a dear friend, Nat.”

“So are you.”

A car alarm wailing startled Nat into nearly dropping his soda can. It sounded close, like it could be Chase’s car, but he’d never heard the alarm before.

“Sounds like mine,” Chase said. “Why would it go off in the driveway, though?”

“I don’t know, stray dog?” Hopefully, a stray dog or maybe even a kid’s soccer ball. He occasionally heard kids outside on the street, but Nat wasn’t familiar with their neighbors. He walked into the mud room and grabbed the keys off the hook. Pressed the red alarm button. A second alarm began blaring, so Nat hit the button again, and it stopped. “It’s not your car!”

Curious, Nat stepped out onto the side porch. Just Chase’s car in the driveway. The alarm was very close, but no other vehicles were immediately in view on the street. He took a few more steps into the driveway, in case someone was parked in front of Chase’s house.

A pickup was across the street, but it was old and beat up, and its lights weren’t flashing from any sort of alarm. Weird. It was the middle of the day on a weekday. So what was—there. He spotted a small, black object on the hood of Chase’s car, all the way up by the windshield.

“What the hell?” He squinted, but with the distance and shadows from the tall shade trees angled over the driveway, he couldn’t make it out. New alarms began ringing, these inside of his head. Nat took a step backward, toward the porch, the hairs on the back of his neck prickling.

He hit something warm and solid, and he yelped. An arm wrapped around his throat, another around his waist, and he was being squeezed. Nat couldn’t scream, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t dislodge from the bigger body holding him. His vision blurred from fear and lack of oxygen. Blood thundered in his ears.

Everything started getting far away.

Oh God, Zack, I’m sorry.