Page 74 of New Year
“Maybe.”
“Definitely. Austin wanted to end things on his terms.”
“Oh, honey. What did he do?”
“Enough.” Nat didn’t want to talk about it. He still had the police to deal with, and he wasn’t looking forward to giving that statement. He’d barely been able to answer questions when the nurses and doctor had asked. “But Austin really didn’t hurt you?”
“I never saw him. As soon as I realized you’d been gone too long, I called Zack. He remembered you telling him about a spot in the mountains, and that he had a GPS tag on the car. It gave him a direction to follow.”
“Smart.” Nat hadn’t known about the tag. Zack’s forethought and good memory had saved his life. “I wanna go home.”
“I know, but you’ve got some time left to spend here. ERs move notoriously slow, and I imagine they’re worried about possible infections in your wounds. You look like you rolled around in the mud.”
Nat snorted. While he’d been cleaned up in some areas, he desperately needed a real shower to get the smell of dirt off his skin. “I did, kind of. It’s a long story. Can we just sit until Zack gets here?”
“Of course, we can.” Chase managed to pull a chair closer to the bed and sat near him, angled so he was facing Nat directly. When Chase started humming, Nat closed his eyes and enjoyed the familiar sound. Chase loved singing along to the car radio, and he knew a lot of music. Nat loved music, too. It was kind and comforting and familiar, in this very cold, foreign space.
A doctor disturbed their peace, and Nat tried to pay attention to everything. Chest wound showed no internal bleeding, no surgery, just stitches and rest. Shoulder wound would heal without stitches, but consult a plastic surgeon if worried about the scar. Same with gouges in lower back and on left palm. Lots of rest. Stiffness for a while. Antibiotics for infections, drugs for the pain. Blah, blah, blah.
No surgery was a plus, and it meant getting released sooner.
Until the doc dropped the bomb: “The state police are here. Do you consent to a rape kit exam?”
Chase made a distressed noise. Nat wanted to say no, he hadn’t been raped. But even though Austin hadn’t penetrated him anally this time, what he’d done on that blanket had still been rape. He consented to the test; Chase left the cubicle. The entire procedure was awkward and humiliating, as he exposed himself so they could document his injuries and take clippings and swabs. If he was charged with murder, this could only help his case.
Killing Austin had been self-defense, period, and the recording would help prove it. It would show the world how violent and evil Austin had been. That the entire setup was premeditated murder.
Recounting his story for the detective, from the car alarm to the ambulance, left Nat a shivering, nauseated mess, but he got through it. “Where’s Zack?”
“Mr. Matteson was questioned at the scene and then released,” the detective replied. “I’m sure he’ll be here shortly, if he isn’t already in the waiting room. He’ll be allowed in once we’re finished.”
“Are we finished?”
“For now. The district attorney’s office may or may not need more in-depth information from you about your relationship with Mr. Daniels, before they decide if charges will be filed.” Nat’s gut flooded with acid. “However, Mr. Hawking, this appears to be a pretty clear-cut case of self-defense. It’s highly unlikely they’ll pursue charges.”
“Thank fuck. I want this part of my life over.”
“I understand. We’ll be in touch.”
“Thanks, I guess.” Nat never wanted to see the man again, but he was grateful for the reassurance that he was unlikely to be charged. Austin had no family that he’d ever told Nat about, no one to advocate for a deeper investigation. And even if they did, they’d find a sordid web of sex, abuse, lies, and an irredeemably cruel man who’d stalked, tortured, and raped his ex.
If push came to shove, Nat wouldn’t back down.
He’d just rather not have to fight anymore.
The cubicle emptied for a few minutes, Nat’s only companions the squeaking of passing shoes, the constant cacophony of voices that the curtain couldn’t block, and dozens of beeps and blurps from machines in his room and others. The wires from the IV, pulse ox, and heart monitor were driving him crazy, as was the growling of the blood pressure cuff every fifteen minutes. It was too much, now that he was fully aware and with nothing to distract him from the endless noise.
Then the curtain parted, and Zack stepped inside. He wore a blue scrub top over his black work pants, and he had a few scrapes and bruises on his face, but he was there. Smiling and well, and he approached the bed so slowly, so timidly, that Nat wanted to cry again. His Zack was confident and proud and unafraid to speak his mind.
Nat raised his left arm. “Get over here.”
Zack sighed and did as told, gently wrapping Nat up into the softest, warmest, most reassuring hug of his entire life. A hug that promised safety and love, and that Zack wasn’t going anywhere. They were in this together, no matter what happened next. Nat’s eyes burned, but he wasn’t crying, so why was his neck wet?
Zack was crying, his entire body trembling as he released his own emotions over their shared terror and near-death experiences. Breaking down in the safety of Nat’s embrace, and Nat held him. Held him tight and said over and over, “I’m okay, we’re okay. Thank you. We’re okay. Thank you.”
In that moment, theywereokay, and nothing else mattered.
* * *
