Love Ahead Expect Delays

Love Ahead: Expect Delays

Astrid Amara

www.loose-id.com

Love Ahead: Expect Delays Copyright © November 2010 by Astrid Amara All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the original purchaser of this e-book ONLY. No part of this e-book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without prior written permission from Loose Id LLC. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author's rights. Purchase only authorized editions. eISBN 978-1-60737-897-6 Editor: Judith David Cover Artist: Marci Gass Printed in the United States of America

Published by Loose Id LLC PO Box 425960 San Francisco CA 94142-5960 www.loose-id.com This e-book is a work of fiction. While reference might be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

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Chapter One Wednesday, December 1

The 1989 Geo Spectrum was not a car of beauty. Neither roundish nor boxy, it had a blunt-nosed front and a saggy-diaper back. Despite being a hatchback, it lacked storage space, and as a two-door, it proved difficult to get in and out of the rear seats. It was, frankly, an embarrassment to drive, which was why it had ended up in the ownership of Zachary Roth’s eighty-seven-year-old grandmother. The problem was Zach’s Bubbie didn’t want to drive it cross-country to Zach’s parents’ new home in Boulder, Colorado. She wanted Zach to drive it. The car smelled like Pine-Sol, decaying foam rubber, and World War II. The brown seats were sun bleached, which Zach hadn’t known was possible with vinyl. The entire car was immaculate in that grandmotherly way that meant it was clean, but brittle and old. Even the fabric on the roof seemed crackled and stretched too thin. Zach’s boyfriend, Austin Jenker, didn’t know they were going to be traveling in the Spectrum. It was one of the facts Zach had strategically omitted while presenting the idea of the road trip. All Austin knew was they were driving to Colorado to visit Zach’s family for Hanukkah. But when Austin emerged from his apartment complex, duffel stuffed and swung over one large shoulder, backpack over the other, and in his hands the toolbox he seemed to take with him everywhere, he did not look pleased. “You’re kidding me, right?” were his first words.

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Zach leaned against the car door and crossed his arms, trying to look tough. It was hard. The car was tiny and white. It had crocheted beige seat covers, and a dream catcher hung from the rearview mirror. “There’s no way we’re going fourteen hundred miles in that piece-of-shit car.” Austin glared at the small tires as if they were to blame. “Come on,” Zach said, giving Austin his most winning smile. “It’ll be an adventure.” “This is your grandmother’s car, right?” Zach nodded, surprised Austin had noticed such an insignificant detail the one time he’d been around when Zach’s grandmother stopped over. But then again, Austin was always attentive to detail, especially when it came to anything on wheels. “That engine barely turns over,” Austin said. “And because you know things like that, you’ll be a perfect companion.” Austin gave him a sharp look. “You just want me along because I’m a mechanic.” “No,” Zach said. “I want you along because I like your company, I like screwing in cheap motels, and most of all, I want my parents to meet you.” Austin studied Zach’s expression carefully. He still had his duffel bag slung over his shoulder. He looked tired, rough, and angry, and if anything, it added to his roguish attractiveness. His dirty-blond hair was getting too long, so he pushed back his bangs to better glower at the vehicle. His skin was red, no doubt from the vigorous scrubbing he’d just given himself in the shower. Austin owned an automotive shop. He came home oil stained but was adamant about appearing clean anytime he wasn’t at work. Zach didn’t care either way. Austin was different from anyone else he’d ever dated; the oil stains only added to his charm.

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“Last month you said you wanted to spend time away from the city,” Zach reminded him. “I was thinking somewhere sunny. With gay bars.” “I bet Boulder has a gay bar,” Zach said, although he wasn’t 100 percent sure about that, because he hadn’t been there before. He knew Boulder had environmentalists. It also had strict development policies and a city planning department that had the kind of power land-use planners like Zach could only envy. Zach shook his head. Progressive zoning enforcement was not going to win Austin over. “Look, I have to take the car to my grandmother. I’m just hoping we can make something enjoyable out of the burden.” “Your parents know you’re gay?” Austin asked at last. Zach rolled his eyes. “Of course.” “Just checking.” Austin frowned. “I don’t feel like being the announcement. That’s all.” He threw his duffel into the back of the car. He turned Zach by the shoulder and kissed him. Zach wasn’t used to public displays of affection, but he liked how Austin never gave a shit. Austin pushed Zach against the car and ground his hips into him as he kissed him deeply, then let go. “We’d better go now if we’re going to avoid traffic.” Austin sauntered over to the passenger side, and it took Zach a moment to recapture his equilibrium before he sat behind the wheel. Austin studied the dashboard. “There’s no CD player?” “Yeah, only a cassette player. I hoped you’d bring your iPod. We can use one of those cassette adapters. Otherwise we’re stuck with”—Zach fumbled through his grandmother’s cassettes in the console—“Million Dollar Polkas.” Austin groaned. He rustled through the backpack between his boots. “When was the last time the old lady had the oil changed?” “I’m sure exactly when scheduled,” Zach assured him. “Bubbie is a firm believer in regular maintenance.”

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Austin pulled out his iPod and hooked it to the cassette adapter. He shook his head. “You know, it wasn’t easy taking eight entire days off work. I left everything up to Rick. And Rick is a moron. I wouldn’t be surprised if my shop is burned to the ground by the time I get back.” “Your shop will be fine. I trust Rick.” Austin raised an eyebrow at that. “If I’m going to miss this much work, I should be heading somewhere warm. California. Florida.” “I’ve never seen you in a Speedo,” Zach said. “Yeah, well, I look fucking hot.” “I believe you.” Zach grinned. “Next holiday, sunshine it is.” Austin yanked at the seat belt, which creaked as it stretched around his broad chest. He had to push the seat all the way back and recline it in order to fit his large body in such a limited space. “We live in a rain forest, and we go on vacation somewhere colder.” Zach’s heart hurt a little at all the complaining. “Then why’d you agree to come?” “Because I love you,” Austin said. “And I’d never forgive myself if you went alone and got beaten up in Idaho for being a Jewish homosexual in a Geo Spectrum.” “Ha. Everybody knows Geos are popular in Idaho.” Zach laughed, but he felt light-headed every time Austin mentioned he loved him. Zach turned the key in the ignition. After a few weak revs, the engine burst to life. “There’s a present for you behind my seat,” he told Austin. Austin was still frowning when he reached back and deftly raised a blue cooler from the floor. Zach had stocked it with all his favorite Austin bait: summer sausage, sour-cream-and-chives potato chips, salsa, tortilla chips, spinach dip,

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pretzels, even crackers and a canister of spray cheese, not to mention a collection of soda and beer. “No way, baby!” Zach smiled. Food made it easy to win Austin’s heart. Austin, momentarily content with a bag of potato chips, didn’t complain further, and Zach pulled out of the apartment complex and headed east to the freeway. He’d planned the trip with time to spare, in case they wanted to spend an extra night somewhere along the way. It would take three days to get to Boulder, leaving five days to spend with Zach’s family before they flew back to Seattle. At first Zach hadn’t relished the prospect of driving cross-country in winter either. “It isn’t safe for me to take the car!” Bubbie had screamed over the phone. Having lost her hearing, she’d resorted to shrieking everything. “If it isn’t safe, then why would you want me to drive it?” Zach had argued. He had imagined many ways of visiting his parents and his grandmother in Colorado, but in a white Geo Spectrum was not part of even his darkest imaginings. “You’re young!” Bubbie had reasoned. “How does that help the car?” Zach had countered. “This is the kind of adventure you young boys love, anyway,” Bubbie had told him. Zach had many rebuttals. He was not, technically, a young boy anymore. He’d busted into the third decade the previous month. And he had also never been one for road trips. The last time he’d taken one, he’d ended up stranded in Bakersfield after the high school band bus drove off without him. He’d had to hitch a ride carrying his tuba. A man had solicited him for oral sex, and a woman who might have been a prostitute had stolen his fanny pack.

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Zach no longer played tuba, and he’d sworn off fanny packs years ago. He’d matured. Matured in the kind of way that made the idea of driving an old car from Seattle to Boulder in December sound less like an adventure and more like a plain old bad idea. But then he’d thought about Austin and changed his mind. After all, it seemed like the kind of undertaking the two of them needed at this stage in their relationship. It was a good way to test things, see if the overpowering affection Zach had for Austin was strong enough to hold up to the tensions of, say, a road trip through snow. For the last month, Austin had been pressing for them to move in together. It had started as casual joking, but with every repetition, Zach had realized Austin was completely serious. Austin had even started looking at condos in Zach’s part of town that would be big enough for two. But every time domesticity raised its head, Zach politely and firmly beat it back down. It was too soon. They had only known each other for six months. And Austin had a temper. He was brash and outspoken and didn’t care what others thought about him. Nothing seemed to frighten him, which had the strange aftereffect of frightening Zach. What trouble could a man like Austin get into? So in many ways this road trip was a consolation prize for Austin. Zach knew Austin’s feelings got hurt whenever Zach casually shot down the idea of domesticity. So Zach hoped Austin would see that, even though he wasn’t ready to commit to moving in, he was serious about their relationship, that this wasn’t just a casual fling. Besides, Zach was thrilled his parents were finally going to meet a guy worthy of being taken home. He could prove to them he was capable of making good decisions when it came to his personal life. He’d struck out too many times for them to trust his judgment.

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And that was another reason Zach worried about moving in with Austin. With others, he’d grown so distrustful, jaded by all but the moment of lust that drove him and left him careless and, later, regretful. Zach knew it was partially his hang-ups that had made past relationships difficult. Too many men had assumed his self-effacing sense of humor and slim build meant he was a pushover. Maybe he was. Zach had never learned how to defend himself physically. He preferred joking his way out of situations. But many of the men who were attracted to his dark hair and long, thin body seemed to take his passive nature for granted and push too far. After a string of disappointments, the last thing Zach wanted to do was move in with another tough guy. But Austin was different. Even though he was a big man—six feet five, two hundred and fifty pounds, all muscle and hair—Austin was unexpectedly affectionate, a man who loved to touch and be touched, with a hungry need for closeness, making his broad chest even more inviting. And despite his hulking presence in bed, Austin was a polite and selfless lover who saw to Zach needs first, even to extremes. It had become Zach’s obsession of late to see Austin get off first, but Austin showed remarkable self-control and never pushed his requests until Zach was sated. And besides being surprisingly kind, Austin was an all-around different type of guy than Zach usually dated. He didn’t own a single suit, for one thing. He’d gone to the technical college and was a skilled mechanic. He worked out religiously, watched football obsessively, and spent the rest of his time taking comalike naps that alarmed Zach with their death-resembling intensity. In the beginning, their opposite lifestyles had worried Zach. He didn’t know anything about cars other than how to drive them. He worked for the local government as a city planner. Zach read a book a night and had a penchant for sad Asian movies. His exercise routine was designed to be as brief and painless as

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possible and existed solely to ward off threats of developing the Roth-family gut, which perched on spindly Roth-family legs like a terrible, round goiter. But despite their differences, Zach and Austin had lasted six months. Apparently he made Austin laugh, and that was a good thing. Austin’s laugh was one of those honest, happy sounds that was contagious. So Zach kept Austin laughing. And Austin made Zach feel safe. Safer than he had in a long time, since those bad months with Ed. Once, at the movies, a drunk had accosted Zach. Austin had turned and punched the assailant so fast that Zach hadn’t even realized what happened until the other man clutched his jaw and writhed on the parking-lot cement. There was something to be said about having a tough guy on your side. But most important, they trusted each other, and with that trust had developed a relationship Zach truly felt excited about. They had the prospect of being something amazing together as long as Zach didn’t ruin it by rushing into domesticity, or as long as Austin didn’t screw it up by becoming a bully. It was a relationship worthy of gentle coaxing, something built with care and consideration.

*** They made it through the beginning buildup of the east side’s rush hour, crested the foothills, and rose into the Snoqualmie Pass. Winter was mild that year in the Pacific Northwest, and they didn’t need the chains Zach had purchased for the trip. The car chugged forward at an even forty-five miles per hour as they traversed steep-banked switchbacks and passed through tunnels of dirty early snow stacked into formidable walls along the highway. The view was stunning: endless cliffs of sharp evergreens and exposed rock. Austin’s mood lifted as he munched on pretzels, hummed along with his songs, and chatted about their mutual friends. Zach too would have enjoyed the vista, if it weren’t for the fact that every other vehicle seemed to find his presence on the

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mountain insulting, and they swerved around the car with the fear of one avoiding a drunk driver. Even semitrucks passed them. Around blind curves. But Austin, a typical speeder, appeared unconcerned by their unimpressive acceleration. He offered Zach pretzels and entertained him with amusing stories about his clients, and Zach let his worries and ego go and allowed the others to cruise on by. The line in the road needed to be his focus, not the furious drivers or flipped fingers and not the chasm of death to his left or the icy avalanche of destruction to his right. Given their late start and slow trek up and down the pass, it was well past sundown by the time they wound out of the Cascades and hit the college town of Ellensburg. Zach made his first executive decision as navigator and decided to call it a night. He’d intended to reach Spokane before stopping, but in truth, he was relieved to have the mountains behind him, and he needed a break. The Ellensburg Stay-a-Nite was located just off Interstate 90. The flat, bleak landscape was composed of a blazing ribbon of red and white vehicle lights, a rotating advertisement for a massive RV-sales compound, and a nearby fast food restaurant. The area smelled faintly of dead animals. Although there was no snow, a bitterly cold wind sliced over them, and Zach and Austin rushed from the car to their motel room in two hasty trips to spare themselves the biting stink. The motel room itself was depressing, with faux-wood paneling and frighteningly textured orange comforters over twin beds that reeked of twenty years of cigarette smoke. Zach had considered asking for a king-size bed but decided not to press his luck; the man at reception had looked at him disapprovingly until Austin glared with such obvious loathing that the man shoved an enormous mooseheaded keychain toward Zach and moved to the back office without a further word. Despite the terrible look and smell to the room, Zach delighted in the small surprises such motels offered by way of amenities. This one provided several rumpled, dog-eared hot-chocolate packets next to a darkly stained coffeemaker, which did not have coffee. A box of sugar cubes and creamers were tastefully

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provided, however. A television guide prominently displayed the twelve channels offered, and a notice enticed guests to make use of the pool, open until September. In

the

bathroom,

Zach

found

a

uniquely

combined

complimentary

shampoo/conditioner/shower-gel/face-wash/hand-lotion bottle. There was also a shower cap and shoe-shining rag. Everything, including the shower, was on a timer. A thin slip of paper guarded the toilet seat like a chastity belt, a weird symbol of sterility only found in the cheapest of motels. Zach tore it aside. “It’s like a ribbon-cutting ceremony for my piss,” Zach commented. Austin mumbled some reply in the other room, but Zach couldn’t hear because Austin had immediately turned on the television and cruised the channels. Zach flushed the toilet, washed his hands and face, and joined Austin. Austin had pushed the two beds together and removed the offensive comforters. Although he was tired, Zach wanted to observe the first of his road-trip rituals. He fumbled through his suitcase and pulled out a change of clothes (Austin mumbled something neutral), a tube of lubricant (Austin made an approvingsounding rumble), and the cardboard box that held his most recent purchase. The portable menorah was made of plastic and included eight red LED lights, plus a pale yellow shamash candle light in the center. Austin watched as Zach folded out the two arms of the tiny menorah, attached a nine-volt battery to the base, and held it out on his palm. “So that’s your menorah?” Austin asked. “Pretty cool, huh?” “Isn’t it supposed to have candles?” “Yeah, but this one is neat. You turn on the lights by connecting the circuits.” “It still counts?” “Well, technically, I’m supposed to light these before darkness, but that doesn’t seem practical on a road trip, so we’ll call this good.” “So now what happens?”

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“I recite a few prayers, and then…” Zach connected the circuits for the shamash candle and the first candle. The LED lights glowed faintly. Austin blinked. After a minute he commented, “Maybe the prayers will be more impressive.” Zach whipped through lightning-speed renditions of the blessing for lighting the candles and the blessing for the miracles of Hanukkah, then launched into the Shehecheyanu, although he forgot the Hebrew halfway through and mumbled everything after “King of the Universe.” Austin was hardly likely to notice. When he finished he propped the menorah onto the sill of the dingy window. “Now what?” Austin asked. Zach shrugged. “That’s it really.” Austin scowled. “That is Hanukkah?” “You’re supposed to have family around and a big meal and exchange presents of course. But all said, it’s not that big of a deal. There are bigger Jewish holidays, but Hanukkah gets a promotion as a Christmas substitute for ostracized Jewish American children looking longingly at Christmas trees and stockings stuffed with presents.” “You going to undress and give me my present?” Austin asked, mouth quirking. Zach launched himself onto the bed. He was nearly thrown off the other side by the force of the bedsprings. “Watch it.” Austin grabbed Zach’s arm to steady him. “This bed is terrible.” “It’s horizontal. That’s all that matters.” Zach made himself comfortable next to Austin. The television’s flickering images advertising better mopping solutions briefly distracted Zach. But Austin focused on Zach’s mouth, leaned in, and kissed him.

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The bed moved around on its own under Zach, which was a little disconcerting, but the mounting pressure of Austin’s kiss soon consumed him. When they at last broke, Austin looked dazed, and desire flooded Zach’s body. “Do your parents honestly want to meet me?” Austin asked. The question surprised Zach, but he nodded. “Yes.” “Seems strange,” Austin commented. He looked a little embarrassed. “I can’t imagine my father ever wanting to meet you.” “The only thing my parents don’t know is that you’re not Jewish,” Zach said. “Is that a problem? It seems like that matters only if we were going to have kids, and it’s not like we’re going to be procreating.” “Why don’t you give it a try, see what happens.” Austin snorted, but he diligently reached down and unbuttoned Zach’s jeans. “I’m going to be pissed if this knocks you up.” “Give it your best shot,” Zach encouraged. Austin laughed. “You kill me, babe.” “Maybe later. Right now I want you to fuck me.” “Sure thing. Hold still.” Austin yanked at Zach’s jeans and pulled them off. He helped Zach out of his socks, his underwear. Zach sat up and removed his shirt. He lay back down, breathing heavier, watching to see what Austin would do next. Austin was a very focused lover. He stared at Zach’s cock intensely, drinking in the sight. They had done this a hundred times, but each time seemed to build in Zach’s mind, escalate the force of Austin’s need. Zach felt exposed under Austin’s gaze and reached up to draw him closer or move him away, anything to break the power of that look. Zach shifted. Austin reached down and spread Zach’s legs wider, allowing him no place to hide.

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“Are you going to undress?” Zach asked. Austin didn’t answer; instead he slid his hands inward, over the sensitive hairs of Zach’s inner thighs. The feeling both aroused and tickled. “I’m pleased you’re enjoying the view,” Zach continued, “but I think maybe you could—” “Shh.” Austin didn’t touch Zach’s cock, at full mast and ready for attention. Instead he stroked Zach’s thighs and balls. He then gently but insistently pushed Zach’s legs up until his knees were near his shoulders. Zach felt exposed in such a position, but he trusted Austin. Finally, Austin’s large palm encircled Zach’s cock and began to stroke in rhythm. Zach leaned back against the stiff pillow and stared up at the stain on the ceiling, oblivious to everything but the feel of Austin’s hands. Austin shifted, and Zach looked between his spread legs to see Austin pull Zach’s cock into his mouth. Austin’s lips stretched over the taut flesh, and Zach had to force himself not to moan aloud. Austin tongued the length of his shaft, dipped lower, and laved each testicle, his movements rhythmic and certain, colored with the confidence of one who knew his lover well. Austin fingered Zach’s anus and pressed gently inside. Zach relaxed his muscles, anticipation fluttering through him. His body shivered with need, but Austin moved slowly, taking control. By the time Austin decided to undress, pull on a condom, and lather his cock with lube, Zach was fisting the sheets and blearyeyed with need. Austin was slow at foreplay, but quick with penetration. He pulled Zach to him and held him open as he pushed his cock all the way in. Zach froze, impaled on Austin’s cock, the shock fresh and exciting and overwhelming, the fullness and the threat of pain so close, but never reached. When Austin fucked him, it always verged on excessive, and that was what excited Zach. Austin had the temper and strength to take too much, but he never did. He claimed Zach thoroughly but never crossed the line where something hurt for real. “Yeah?” Austin gasped.

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Zach gave a guttural moan in response, but Austin understood him and started thrusting. He did nothing by halves. He drove into Zach hard, his rhythm fast and deep, and it took Zach’s breath away. He had to remember to breathe. He had to force himself to swallow air and concentrate on not clawing apart the sheets. Explosions of sensation ricocheted through Zach’s body, starting with his cock and flowing through him, numbing his mind. He wanted to wait. He wanted Austin to come first just once, so he could know he was capable of making Austin lose control. But Austin was too accurate with each stroke, the pounding intensive and filling. Austin clenched his fist around Zach’s cock, and Zach came, hot seed shooting between them, but the pace of Austin’s thrusting didn’t slow. Austin panted, quietly fucking Zach, and turned him slightly to change the angle. Zach clenched his ass around the intrusion and emitted a deep gasp. His hands trembled around Zach as he pulsed his release deep inside of Zach’s body. They stayed locked together for a long moment, catching their breath. And for a long time there was no thought and no conversation and no future. There was only this, the coupling of two bodies, a complicated rhythm that had crescendoed into desperation and—at the last—sentimentality, as Austin gathered Zach closer and pressed his face into the crook of Zach’s neck, kissing him there and whispering something about love that probably had more to do with the rush of endorphins and less about Zach himself. But Zach didn’t complain. He loved being held and always sighed when Austin finally extricated himself. Austin walked into the bathroom, dumped the condom, and returned with a towel. He gave Zach a crooked smile. “You made a mess.” It wasn’t much of a chastisement, since Austin looked thoroughly pleased by the result. He wiped Zach’s chest and between his legs before giving his own dick one last wipe and tossing the cloth on the floor. He collapsed next to Zach in bed. “Cleaning lady’s going to love that washcloth,” Zach mumbled.

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Austin laughed into Zach’s shoulder. Zach relaxed into the soft mattress, smiling and enjoying his warm, boneless body. Within minutes Austin passed into a deep, unresponsive slumber. Zach, high on the orgasm and drunk on love, couldn’t sleep. He maneuvered out of Austin’s heavy embrace and cranked the timer for the shower. The showerhead squealed with pressure, and the noise was enough to wake the damned, but a quick peek into the main room confirmed Austin still slept, naked body sprawled across both beds in possessive contentment. The shower alternated blazing heat and frigid cold, so Zach stepped out before his ten minutes were up. He returned to bed and pulled the thin sheets over them. The expectation of great things to come with Austin filled Zach with nervous excitement. He’d had strong hopes before, in other failed relationships, until reality came crashing down, and he ended up distraught, heartbroken, and oftentimes broke. Zach shook his head. No good came out of dwelling on his past mistakes. He had to focus on Austin, who was not Ed or any of his other lovers. And his parents were going to love Austin. His grandmother would be thrilled to have her car. And as he lay there, staring at Austin’s slack mouth, he smiled. It would be an adventure. It would actually be a blast.

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Chapter Two Thursday, December 2

Austin was in a bad mood. His back was stiff after having fallen in the crack between the twin beds at some point the night before. The dry, crisp air east of the mountains reddened his eyes. And when he stepped out of their motel room and saw the broken glints of light beneath the passenger-side door of the Spectrum, the final straw broke. He rushed forward, furious as he took in the shattered window and round pieces of safety glass on the vinyl seat, sparkling like plastic diamonds. “Oh no!” Zach hurried after him, looking sick as he took in the damage. Austin yanked open the driver’s-side door and shoved his hand past the cassette tapes. As he feared, he felt nothing but air. “They took my fucking iPod!” Zach surveyed the rest of the car. “They stole our cooler too. All our snacks and beverages.” Austin looked at him as if he were insane. “It’s okay,” Zach said, holding out his hands defensively. His weak smile didn’t fool anyone. “We’re insured against theft.” “Yeah? At what deductible?” Zach swallowed. “Five hundred dollars.” Austin punched the roof of the car. “Great! Fucking great! The entire goddamned car isn’t worth five hundred dollars!”

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“I know,” Zach said. He brushed the glass off the passenger seat. “It’s all right, Austin. I’ll buy you another iPod—” “That isn’t the fucking point!” Zach ran a hand through his hair. “Well, what do you want to do?” “Anything but this,” Austin spat. As soon as he said the words, he regretted them. He sounded childish, and he saw disappointment rock through Zach—the instant pain and his attempt to conceal it. Austin had never been with anyone as sensitive as Zach or as readable. Zach’s heart wasn’t pinned on his sleeve. It was stapled everywhere, completely exposed, every wide-eyed look of hurt or dark glance of anger a clear sign of what he felt. Austin stared at the console and, unable to control his anger, kicked the driver’s-side door and walked back into their room. Now what was he going to do? He would have to apologize, for one thing. Which didn’t come naturally. He wasn’t used to sharing his feelings with anyone, let alone worrying about someone else’s. But something about Zach made him try harder to be kind. He loved the guy. A lot. More than anyone he’d ever been with. Zach was funny, clever, and easy to spend time with, besides being a terrific lay, and he had a way of making Austin’s blood pressure lower. Zach relaxed him, and so it was worth the extra effort to see to Zach’s needs. Besides, he hadn’t meant it when he said he wanted to go home. He was just pissed. Pissed at himself mostly, for being an idiot and leaving his iPod in the car. What was he thinking? He was in a fucking motel off the interstate in fucking Ellensburg. He had to be more careful. He heard Zach outside, talking to someone else, but Austin was still too angry to socialize with strangers. Instead he did a quick once-over of the shitty room to make sure they didn’t leave anything behind.

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Assured they had everything, Austin picked up his duffel and backpack and rolled Zach’s suitcase outside. Zach had covered the passenger-side window with a clear plastic bag and duct tape. A grizzled, bedraggled older woman chatted with him as she smoked a long pink cigarette. She wore a name tag, so Austin assumed she was the morning-shift motel manager. The way she laughed at Zach and called him honey baby suggested she was flirting. Austin couldn’t blame her. Zach had baby blue eyes and thick black hair, with high cheekbones and large lips that, coupled with his almost permanent dark stubble, made him look both pretty and masculine. Zach quirked his eyebrow as the manager chatted, something he did whenever he was offended, but he hid it politely with a laugh. He glanced at Austin. Austin dropped their bags in the backseat and went back into the room to avoid talking with the woman. After a minute the door opened, and Zach came in, looking nervous. “Hey.” Austin shut the door behind Zach and grabbed him. He kissed him deeply, loving the shock of surprise that bolted through Zach’s body, the heat of his mouth, the softness of his lips, and the roughness of his cheeks and chin. He embraced him tightly, then let go. “I didn’t mean what I said,” Austin said. Relief broke across Zach’s face. “Oh good. Because if you want to go back, we can. I’ll just fly out and—” Austin kissed him again. He felt Zach’s groin press hard against his thigh. Zach was so easily riled. “I didn’t mean it,” Austin repeated. “Let’s keep going.” Zach pushed his cock against Austin. “Want me to fuck you again?” Austin whispered hotly. Zach’s eyes closed as he smiled, but he shook his head. “Yeah, but we have to hit the road.” He held Austin’s shoulder, and he reached down and adjusted his

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jeans. Then, with a blazing smile, he left the room, and just like that, any conflict was over. Austin was grateful. Zach was sensitive, but he never blew things out of proportion. He seemed to accept the fact that Austin had a short temper, and rolled with it. “You want me to drive first shift?” Austin offered, but Zach shook his head. “Nah, I’ll go first. Let’s get some breakfast before we hit the highway.” They got takeout at a fast-food restaurant and large cups of coffee, which made Austin feel like a new man. It was below freezing outside, and even with the window taped up, wind leaked in through a crack in the repair and so it felt like ten below inside the car as well. Given the shittiness of the car they traveled in and the way the morning had started off, Austin was surprised to find himself relaxed and in a good mood. He’d spent entire years engrossed in bad moods. But Zach’s company had changed something about him. As they chatted about the dull landscape, discussed mutual friends, and reviewed the relentlessly cheerful and monotonous songs coming from one of Zach’s grandmother’s uniformly polka offerings, Austin felt strangely at peace with where he was and what he was doing. He felt…happy. Happier than he could ever remember feeling. After a while even Zach could no longer stand the spritely overtures of polka, and they searched the AM radio stations for something to listen to. In between the Tejano stations, classic-rock offerings, and country music were large swaths of static, but for some reason the evangelical stations came across clearly regardless of where they were. Austin did a good impression of an evangelical preacher, thanks to his upbringing, but Zach eventually complained he was losing his Hanukkah mojo and switched back to static. Austin fiddled with the window gasket, pleased with its condition. “Next time we pass through a big city, let’s stop at an auto-supply store. If they have this window size in stock, I can replace it easily.”

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“Yeah?” Zach smiled. Austin nodded. “I brought a few tools. It’ll take me half an hour.” He tapped the plastic window cover. He couldn’t see much out of it, but that wasn’t a loss. The view from the windshield was mind-numbingly repetitive, an endless vista of nothing, surrounded by flattened scrub whipped ferociously by winter winds. Austin reclined the seat all the way back, out of the wind. Zach asked him about his picks for the upcoming football game, and Austin launched into an enthusiastic review of the Seattle Seahawks’ entire season to date and their odds against others in the NFC West division. Austin knew Zach didn’t really care about football, but he was a polite listener, and Austin couldn’t help himself. His passion for the sport had a tendency to appropriate conversations. They stopped for lunch outside Spokane, and Austin took over driving. His knees framed the steering wheel, and he felt like he cradled the dashboard in his lap. He didn’t like how the clutch seemed to struggle to get into first gear or how hard it was to shift into second, and he suspected the vehicle might have a defective master or slave cylinder, but he didn’t say anything. It would last until they got to Boulder. He hoped to make it to Billings, Montana, by that evening, because it would position them well to complete the journey the following day. Zach harbored a crazy fantasy of showing up on Friday in time for Sabbath dinner with his parents—which Austin thought was a long shot, but he wasn’t going to say so out loud. He let Zach take a nap on that weak hope. Less than an hour into his shift, however, Austin glanced at the console and saw the temperature gauge had risen into the red. The good mood he’d fostered all afternoon vanished quickly. “Damn!” He cranked the heat to high and turned the fans on full blast. Zach sat up, blinking. “What’s wrong?” “The engine’s overheating.” Austin tapped the dashboard. “Where are we?” Zach yawned.

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“We’re about to cross the Idaho border. Shit!” Smoke began to pour from under the hood. Austin pulled the Spectrum onto the shoulder of the highway. He popped the hood and looked inside. The engine was pristine, no doubt thanks to Zach’s grandmother’s regularly scheduled maintenance. But he noticed the hoses were brittle and close to breaking. He measured the oil, which was full, but when he tipped back the cap, water condensation dripped out. “Damn.” He shook his head. What the hell had he been thinking? He should have given the car a full checkup before they left Seattle. He slammed the hood shut and sat back down in the car. Zach looked grim. “Bad news?” “I think our head gasket’s blown.” “Is that an easy fix?” Zach asked cheerfully. “No. The engine has to come out.” Austin glanced east to the nearby freeway exit. “How big a town is Coeur d’Alene?” Zach shrugged. “It’s a tourist destination. I’m sure they have an auto-parts store.” “We need more than just a part, Zach. We need a garage for this. I can’t take the engine out in some parking lot.” Austin squeezed the wheel, pissed at himself. “I should have checked under the hood before we left.” “You didn’t know we’d be taking the Spectrum,” Zach said. “Yeah, because if I did, I wouldn’t have agreed to come.” Austin slammed his hand on the dashboard. Zach flinched beside him. Austin breathed out deeply. He had to stay calm. He got the car back on the freeway and crawled it to the first garage he found in downtown Coeur d’Alene, a place called Lou’s Automotive that had enough cars in the lot to suggest people trusted the mechanic. By the time he stopped, the

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engine was spewing white smoke, which whisked in a frenzied pattern from the sharp wind off the lake. It was late afternoon, and the sky threatened snow. Austin stepped from the car and was hit with a bitter blast of cold air. He reached in the backseat for his coat, then walked straight into the garage, where a man in a navy blue jumpsuit was busy running diagnostics on a Toyota. The mechanic was much shorter than Austin, with a balding head and a beard. He clearly shared Austin’s sentiments as he stared distastefully at the fuming car. As they discussed it, Austin watched Zach wander down the road. By the time he and Lou had settled on a schedule and a price, including fixing the window, Zach had returned. Zach approached the garage with an eager expression. Austin felt crushed. He hated breaking bad news to anyone, but for some reason it was worse with Zach because of his natural optimism. He loved that about Zach, loved the way he could take a positive message from even the saddest movie, but it always fell on Austin to crush the dreams of the hopeful when it came to cars. And this would be no exception. “How’s it going?” Zach asked with a smile. His lips, along with his cheeks, were flushed from the cold, and Austin wanted to kiss him. However, he was in Idaho. And Lou was standing nearby. The last thing they needed was for Lou to sabotage the engine because he was a bigoted prick. “It isn’t great,” Austin said carefully. He clenched his jaw, trying to force back his anger. He disliked leaving cars in someone else’s care, especially when the part being replaced cost thirty-five dollars and would have been easy for him to install himself at home. But he didn’t have a lift, so they were out of luck. “The part has to be expressmailed,” Austin told Zach. “It won’t get here until tomorrow morning, possibly the afternoon. We can’t leave until the day after.”

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Zach took the news in stride. “All right. So we’ve got almost two days to kill in this town.” “Shit. Yeah. Sorry.” Austin sighed. Zach looked puzzled. “Why are you sorry?” “I should have checked the car.” Zach shrugged. “It isn’t a big deal. We’ll still have several days to be with my family. I have an idea.” He grinned and pointed to a large resort complex on the lakefront. “Let’s stay there.” Austin looked at Zach’s rosy cheeks and shook his head. How could nothing faze this guy? Tell Zach he would drop dead tomorrow of some agonizing injury, he’d shrug, promise to make the most of the night, and carry on optimistically. Austin had never known anyone so damned cheerful. “I thought you liked cheap motels,” Austin commented. “I do, when I know I can leave first thing in the morning. If we have to hang around tomorrow as well, let’s get a nice room. We’ll make it a mini vacation within the vacation.” “In this town?” Austin glanced skeptically up Sherman Avenue. The collection of boutiques and restaurants hinted that the city was home to many tourists during the summer, but on a cold December day, the place looked like a ghost town. That said, Lake Coeur d’Alene was beautiful, and the resort commanded an impressive view over the choppy blue water and surrounding peninsula of evergreens. In the distance, misty hints of rolling hills colored the otherwise graytinted landscape. Zach pointed to one store, fancifully entitled Beachy Fantasies. “You’ll love that store,” Zach said. Austin scowled. “No, I won’t.” “I saw you eyeing driftwood art once. You love knickknack stores.” “I do not.”

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“You do. You even love feathered seagulls pasted onto driftwood art. You love T-shirts with wolves, and you love wind chimes in the shape of coho salmon.” Austin fought a smile. He crossed his arms. “I hate everything about this town.” “There’s a spaghetti restaurant.” “Great.” “A magnet shop.” “Fuck.” “And according to this brochure I just picked up, the best cowboy supper show is here!” He waved the brochure triumphantly. Austin laughed. “What the hell is a cowboy supper show?” “Want to find out?” “Not particularly. Are there any gay bars?” Zach flapped the brochure. “Not advertised here, surprise, surprise. But there has to be one.” “We’re in Idaho,” Austin reminded him. “Come on. Let’s go check in.” Zach grabbed his backpack and suitcase out of the car, and Austin followed suit. They walked to the grandiose lobby entrance of the resort, and Austin at once felt underdressed and out of place in the environment. The men in the hotel wore polo shirts and pressed slacks, and he was in old jeans, work boots, and a beer Tshirt over long-sleeved underwear. Zach wasn’t any better dressed, but he blended in with the crowd effortlessly. He had confidence that allowed him to belong in any environment, impoverished or high-class, and with such an attitude, he genuinely fit in regardless of where they were. One night they’d gone to dinner at an expensive French restaurant, Zach’s treat, and then walked directly to one of the dicier bars Austin knew in the Pioneer Square neighborhood. Zach never missed a beat. He apparently liked skanky places

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on equal ground with opulence. Now he cruised to the front desk of the luxurious resort without hesitation and bravely requested a single king-size bed. The receptionist didn’t blink an eye as he found them a room. The place was crowded, and Austin had feared they’d be out of space. But apparently all the folks were in town for a conference that had just ended, and most had checked out. They were offered a broad range of price points, depending on what kind of view they wanted. Zach looked at Austin expectantly, but Austin shrugged. “Get whatever you want,” he told Zach. “I’ll pay for it.” Zach’s eyebrows came together. “But this was my idea.” “You got last night. I’ll get this one,” Austin insisted. Zach laughed. “Do you have any idea how cheap last night’s motel was?” Austin reached into his wallet and pulled out his credit card. He handed it to the front-desk clerk. “Put it on my card,” he insisted. He was actually a little nervous about the cost, but after giving Zach nothing but bad news, he was grateful to be able to offer something more desirable. “Besides,” Austin whispered in Zach’s ear, “if the walls are thick enough, I can tie you up and make you scream as I fuck you tonight.” Zach shivered. “Idaho makes you kinky.” Austin laughed. He grabbed his card and the key packet, and they made their way through the wide lobby, past a massive fireplace, and beyond the large windows overlooking the cold, beautiful landscape to the elevators. Because they went for the “traditional” rated room, their view looked onto a congregation of heavy pipes leaving the downstairs ballroom. There was also a service elevator that ran alongside the bedroom wall and made whooshing noises every minute. But the room was clean, light, and comfortable. The bed was firm and fluffy, there was Internet and cable television, the bathroom was stocked with tiny bottles of cosmetic products that seemed to delight Zach, and the whole place smelled of fresh linen. All in all, a vast improvement over the Stay-a-Nite.

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“I never understand why hotel rooms have ten lamps but no overhead light,” Zach commented, switching on lights around the room. “Yeah, or no fans in the bathroom,” Austin added. “I’d better hurry if I’m going to do this on time,” Zach mumbled, fumbling through his backpack. He emerged with his boxed menorah. He turned on two lights and held it aloft. He spoke a quick rush of Hebrew, the words incomprehensible to Austin, but sounding choppy and rough like machine-gun fire. Zach propped the menorah in the window for the seagulls to enjoy. Austin gave the headboard a yank. He turned and grinned. “Let’s break some Idaho sodomy laws.”

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Chapter Three Friday, December 3

Zach awoke to the television, its sound on low. Austin sat up in bed, watching the news, eyes barely cracked open. “Morning,” Zach said with a grin, rolling over to kiss him. Austin gave him a sloppy, sleepy kiss back. “Afternoon, actually.” “Is it?” Zach glanced at the clock and saw it was already half past twelve. They’d slept in much later than he’d expected. Austin nodded to the TV. “They say there’s a blizzard in Wyoming. We might end up hitting it.” “Lovely. Anything else?” “There’s a convicted murderer on the loose somewhere east of Billings, a trade embargo has increased tension with China, and apparently corduroy is the new velvet.” Zach snorted. “What do you want to do with what’s left of the day?” Austin asked, putting his arm around Zach. Since last night, he had been in a generous mood, and the frustrations about the Geo Spectrum seemed to be fading. “How about we find out if there’s somewhere we can hike around?” “It’s freezing outside.” “So? We have jackets.” Zach tried to clamber over Austin out of the bed, but as he did so, he brushed against Austin and discovered his erection.

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Austin grabbed Zach’s hand and yanked him back into bed. “I have a better way to warm up,” he said roughly. He kissed Zach. Twenty minutes later, sweaty and sated, Zach finally took his shower. Austin joined him, and they took their time. Austin lathered the entire bottle of shampoo in Zach’s hair. Zach leaned against him in the shower, loving the sensation of Austin’s fingers on his scalp, the smell of his clean skin, the heat of the water on his shoulders. “I’m sort of pleased we broke down in Coeur d’Alene,” Zach said. “Yeah?” Zach had his back against Austin’s chest and couldn’t see his face, but he could tell by his tone that Austin was smiling. “Yeah. I mean, when else would we have come here? And now we can hike around the lake and take in the scenery. Hanukkah miracles indeed.” “This whole Hanukkah thing is going to your head,” Austin mumbled, but Zach smiled to himself and felt the truth in his words. The Maccabees had experienced eight days of luck in their time, and Zach was beginning to think the same thing could happen to him. Granted, the robbery and broken-car incidents had soured some of the experience, but hey, true miracles only occurred in the face of adversity. After all, what was the point of a miracle on a good day? “Your hair smells like coconut,” Austin said, pulling Zach back to wash his hair in the stream of hot water. “And our skin smells like”—Zach read the description on the miniature gel bottle—“passionate tropical fantasy.” “The smells I associate with passion aren’t anything like this.” Zach flushed. Austin often commented on how much he liked the smell of Zach, especially during sex, but Zach didn’t take the bait and stepped out of the shower. They dressed and left the hotel in search of food. They ate a decent lunch at an Italian chain restaurant up the road. Austin grumbled at the exorbitant prices, but

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Zach paid cheerfully, knowing it was what happened when you bought meals in a tourist trap. Their waitress told them about a trail near the resort on a forested peninsula on the lake. They took advantage of the break in the rain to walk it. It was a beautiful and lonely place, with no one in sight. The path wound over rocky soil and led them up the hillside through Douglas firs and on routes lined by thimbleberries and ninebark. At first they hiked together in silence, Zach invigorated by the cold, but then Austin began to ask tentative questions about Zach’s family. “Why’d they move to Boulder?” Austin stepped deftly over freshly fallen branches from the previous night’s windstorm. A branch caught on the inside of Zach’s jeans cuff, and he had to untangle his ankle. “My dad’s company moved headquarters. Besides, my sister and her husband live in Denver, so my folks were happy to relocate. At any rate, they’re more likely to get grandkids from her than from me.” Austin was quiet for a moment, then spoke again. “Does it bother them that I’m coming over on a holiday?” “Not at all,” Zach said. “I told them all about you, and they want you there for Hanukkah.” “Even your grandma?” “Her most of all,” Zach said. “I actually get along with her better than my mom. But my mother’s all right, and my dad’s a nice guy.” “Am I going to be sleeping in the basement?” “Yeah.” Zach grinned. “But we’ll be sleeping there together. That’s where the guest room is.” He found the line of questioning strange, but he didn’t ask what the source of it was. Austin went quiet for at least half a mile, but when he spoke again, it was as if no time had passed.

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“My dad would never allow us to sleep together in his house,” Austin commented. “He’d burn in hell first.” “Well, that’s one of the advantages of being a Jew.” Zach grinned. “No hell to burn in.” Austin laughed. The trail opened up to where they could stand shoulder to shoulder, and Zach sped his pace to walked alongside Austin. He chanced a quick grab at Austin’s hand. It was a sentimental and foolish thing to do, hold hands in public, but Austin didn’t seem to mind. He looked surprised but then smiled and gripped Zach’s hand back. “Are you going to see your family for Christmas?” Zach asked tentatively. He rarely inquired about Austin’s family, because he seemed so hesitant to discuss them, but Austin had been the one to bring the subject up this time. “No.” Austin frowned. He dropped Zach’s hand, and Zach felt disappointed. “My family will happily adopt you,” Zach offered. Austin shook his head. “I’m not a big one for family, all things considered.” Zach shrugged. “Sometimes there’s something to be said about relatives. After all, they’re biologically programmed to love you.” “No, they aren’t. I learned early on that a person makes their own family.” When he spoke again, he sounded more hesitant. “It’s why I want to move in with you, Zach. I want you to be my family, not some conceited, shortsighted asshole back east who thinks genetics give him the right to tell me who I am.” Alarm zinged through Zach. He didn’t want the conversation to go that route. This trip was about them just being happy together, not decisively determining their future. And he was in a good mood and didn’t want to ruin Austin’s by telling the truth: Zach’s chosen families of the past had all but killed him.

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He considered gentle ways to back off the topic but heard voices up ahead and was spared continuing the conversation. They rounded the corner of a steep bluff overlooking a crescent beach and passed two young men who appeared to be very drunk, despite the early hour. One of the kids, tall and sinewy with a crew cut, mumbled something to a beefier blond guy as they passed. Austin tensed immediately but kept going. Zach hurried to catch up with him. They saw no one else along the trail, but he sensed Austin’s simmering anger. They finished the loop of the trail in silence. At the end of the trail, they were spit unceremoniously back to where they had begun. The two men they’d passed before had taken a shortcut and waited at the entrance. The crew-cut kid stood leaning against the trail sign, while the other, beefier guy sat on a log, clutching a forty in his left hand. Zach nodded as he walked past them. “Fucking faggot,” the tall one mumbled. Zach felt a sick tightening of his gut. “Let’s go,” Zach said quietly, but Austin had already turned around. With startling speed Austin marched up to the man with the crew cut and stood inches from him, forming a fist with his hand. “What did you say?” Austin demanded. His posture had changed, readying for a strike. The man straightened from his slouch. Even from a distance Zach could smell alcohol emanating from his skin. He shared Austin’s height and looked dangerous. “Free country,” the man said. “I can say what I want.” “Not about us, you son of a bitch.” Zach’s heart raced. The blond man stood and approached Austin from behind. “We’re leaving,” Zach said loudly, coming alongside Austin. “Come on. Let’s go.”

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Austin poked his finger, hard, into the man’s chest. “Apologize.” “Fuck you!” The tall man spit into Austin’s face. Zach had seen the same look in Austin’s eyes the night he’d punched the man who had accosted him. He was going to hit the bastard. “Hey!” Zach turned. A police officer approached quickly. Zach felt relieved. The officer’s car, lights flashing, was stopped in the parking lot at the base of the trail. He watched the group of men closely. “What’s going on here?” “Hello!” Zach said warmly, hands up. “We’re just trying to leave.” “This fag is picking a fight,” the man with the crew cut complained, although he grinned at Austin. Austin glanced briefly at the officer but otherwise kept his gaze pinned on the tall man. “You boys know that it’s illegal to have an open alcohol container on public property.” The officer walked faster. He had a noticeable paunch and breathed heavily. “This asshole owes us an apology,” Austin said. “I don’t owe you shit!” Austin moved closer. The officer rushed to step between them. “Both of you, settle down! Or I’ll book you all!” Zach felt close to throwing up, but he had to think fast. Austin was about to lose it; Zach could tell by the cold paleness of his expression. His right hand had already curled into a fist. He was going to hit a police officer, and he was going to be arrested, and Zach would be stuck in Coeur d’Alene forever, visiting his violentoffender boyfriend in prison while his parents lectured him, yet again, on making terrible choices when it came to picking lovers. “Hey, is that a bushtit?” Zach exclaimed, pointing at a bird in the nearby tree. Everyone but Austin glanced up. Austin glared at his rival, jaw clenched.

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“Come on, Austin,” Zach said quietly, touching his arm. “There are better places to meet lovers than in jail.” Austin grimaced. “That fucker—” “Let’s go,” Zach urged. “That’s a mountain chickadee,” the police officer said. Zach smiled weakly. “Aha, I always get those two confused.” “You can tell by the black-and-white variegation,” the officer said. He eyed the two young men. “I want you two to clear out. If I catch you drinking here again, I’m bringing you in.” The two men stared at Austin, the crew-cut fellow smirking. But they walked away. Austin stiffened as they passed. Zach gripped his arm and yanked him back. “Let’s check on the car,” he demanded, and after a moment, Austin nodded. He headed down the trail in the opposite direction from the drinkers. Zach turned quickly and shook the officer’s hand. “Thanks for your help.” He rushed down the trail to reach Austin, who stalked toward the garage, clearly fuming. Zach hurried to catch up, but as the tension from the conflict faded and his heart slowed its pace, he began to get angry. What the fuck? How could anyone be so bullheaded as to actually make a fist at a police officer? Zach caught up with Austin, but they said nothing to each other. At the garage, Austin learned the gasket had arrived. The Spectrum was raised on the lift, the engine out, but it would still take several hours tomorrow before the job would be completed. They walked back to the hotel, and Austin offered an olive branch. “I checked out the porno section of the pay-per-movie options this morning while you were sleeping. They have a gay channel. Want to check it out?” Zach looked at him. Austin smiled crookedly.

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But for once Zach wasn’t willing to let this one go. “You almost punched a police officer.” Austin’s smile disappeared. He didn’t say anything in his defense. “What the hell is wrong with you?” Zach asked. “I wasn’t going to hit the cop,” Austin said. “I wanted to hit the skinheaded son of a bitch.” He left it there. Zach said nothing in the elevator up to their room. They’d have to get dinner, but he felt too pissed off to go out for food with Austin. Light was almost gone from the sky, and Zach belatedly lit his menorah. The tension between them added nothing to the gesture, however. “Aren’t you supposed to say those prayers?” Austin asked. He sat on the edge of the bed. He watched Zach with a cautious expression. “I’m not in the mood,” Zach said. Austin sighed. “What’s wrong? You act like that whole fight was my fault.” “It was your fault!” Zach spun to face him. “What the hell is wrong with you?” “I don’t care if we’re in fucking Idaho. No one gets to call you names in front of me and walk away.” “Don’t be ridiculous! They were just a couple of drunk assholes. It isn’t worth going to jail for.” Austin stood. There was no caution in his expression now. He looked angry, noticeably grinding his jaw. “You know what happens when you ignore people who insult you, Zach? You get fucking beaten. That’s what happens.” “Not always.” “I’m not taking any chances,” Austin said. “We would have been fine if we’d walked away. But you—” “No!” Austin slammed his fist against the wall. “We’re not fine by walking away! Every fucking time you walk away from jerks like that, they win! They get to insult every poor bastard who’s different from them, and they win.”

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“What the hell are you talking about?” Zach shouted. He knew their voices were carrying through the wall, but he didn’t care. “You honestly think you can fight every guy who doesn’t like us?” “If they don’t fear us, they’ll never respect us.” Zach rolled his eyes. “That’s a great opinion of human nature.” “Oh for chrissakes!” Austin moved closer, and Zach backed up against the wall. “Wake up, Zach! You can’t joke your way out of everything. You can be the unrealistic idealist who thinks everything in the world will work out fine, but one of us has to acknowledge that there are really fucking bad things that happen out there!” “Yeah! I get that!” Zach felt uncomfortable up against the wall. He moved to the side. Of course Austin let him go. And the fact that he’d even thought for a second that Austin wouldn’t said he shared Austin’s underlying negative impression of humanity more than he wanted to admit. Zach shook his head. “I’m asking you to think with your head, not your fists. What would have happened if you’d actually hit that jerk? You’d be in jail, and we’d be stuck in this town a lot longer than one more day.” Austin glared at him. “You can’t let people insult you and not pay for it. It won’t ever stop. Someone has to stand up for you.” “I don’t want you standing up for me!” Zach shouted. “Not over something so stupid!” Austin growled and looked ready to rip something apart. He ran his hand through his hair, making it stick up like a Mohawk. He snatched his coat from the lounge chair and stormed out of the room. The door slammed behind him. Zach sat on the bed and took deep breaths. They had argued before, but they’d never had a fight like that.

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Zach realized it was because he always let things go. It was his nature. Why let a problem escalate when you could simply cope with it? But the first time he took a stand on something, they ended up shouting. And he had no idea how to resolve it. Zach felt sick to his stomach. He ordered pizza delivery, at first choosing anchovies to spite Austin but at the last minute relenting and ordering a basic sausage and mushroom. He kicked off his shoes and flipped channels, uncaring of what was on, more concerned about where Austin had gone and whether he planned on returning. The argument only proved Zach’s point. There was no way he should move in with Austin. He was violent and unpredictable. And even though that anger was never directed at Zach, Austin was a volatile, unknown force. How could Austin think they were ready to live together? Zach didn’t know Austin well enough to guess what his response would be after a big fight, and that was worrisome in itself. He could have rented a car and abandoned him, for all Zach knew. If he didn’t know what Austin would do when furious, how could he want to live with the man? To his relief, Austin returned a few minutes after the pizza was delivered. He had a six-pack of some Idaho microbrew under one arm and a paper bag in his hand. He glanced at the open pizza box on the desk but didn’t acknowledge it. They made eye contact. Neither apologized. Austin tossed the bag onto the bed. “Here.” “What is it?” Zach asked. “Chocolate truffles.” Austin put the six-pack next to the pizza and pulled off his coat. “Oh, and more condoms. I’m almost out.” Zach shook his head. “We have a fight, and you go out and buy condoms.” Austin shrugged, looking almost embarrassed. Zach sighed. “I got pizza, if you’re hungry.”

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“Yeah.” Austin grabbed a slice and stuck the end in his mouth. He grabbed two beers and held them up in question. Zach nodded, and Austin joined him on the bed, handing him a beer. Zach twisted the top, but the cap needed an opener. Austin grabbed it and opened it on the edge of his belt before handing it back solemnly. “Thanks,” Zach said. He felt awkward. Austin was quiet beside him. He opened his beer, took a deep swig, and grabbed the control. Zach waited for them to address what had occurred, but Austin clearly didn’t want to discuss it. He flipped channels until they hit Star Wars, and the two of them watched and ate and drank next to each other with no conversation. Zach supposed this was Austin’s way of making up, but he still felt disappointed by the way things had turned out. When the pizza was finished and they had split the six-pack, and Zach had crawled under the covers to stay warm, Austin leaned over and kissed the side of Zach’s head. “Sorry.” The word came out harsh and raspy, as if it physically hurt him to say. Zach was going to say the same thing, but Austin kissed him on the lips, then turned over and went to sleep.

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Chapter Four Saturday, December 4

“The menorah burned all night.” Austin put down his razor and turned to greet Zach at the bathroom door. Zach wore only boxers, and his hair stood up rakishly on one side of his head. He had lines of sleep on his face. His svelte frame, narrow waist, and dark body hair excited Austin, regardless of the bad feelings they had gone to bed with, and he moved closer. “Yeah? Is that against tradition?” he asked. Zach yawned widely and scratched his head. “Well, of course the candles burn down, unless you have a collection of LED lights.” He gave a quick, small smile, and Austin felt inordinately pleased to see it. The fight last night had scared him. He assumed everything would roll off Zach. Nothing fazed him. Except, apparently, defending himself, which was going to be a sore subject between them. But Austin knew he had a temper and would have to work to control it if he ever wanted to win Zach’s complete trust. Austin had wandered the streets of Coeur d’Alene last night, worrying he’d permanently ruined his chances with Zach. The thought hit him like a punch in the gut. Which was why the sight of Zach giving him that smile filled Austin with relief and alleviated some of the guilt that had made it so difficult to sleep.

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Zach reached up and wiped a blob of shaving cream off Austin’s face. “We should check out soon.” “Yeah.” Austin turned and washed his face. In the main room, he heard Zach speak with someone on his cell phone. By the patient, annoyed tone in his voice, Austin guessed Zach was speaking with his mother. A few minutes later Zach returned to the bathroom and began shaving. “I told her we’d be late, but that we’d make it there tomorrow or the day after.” “Good.” Austin looked at Zach’s body as he shaved, wondered if things were good enough between them to make a move. But Zach didn’t seem that interested. He focused on shaving. “My mother mentioned the storm in Wyoming. It isn’t looking good.” Zach splashed his razor in the water. His eyes lowered, and Austin could see his thick black lashes in the mirror. He loved the slightly effeminate aspects of Zach’s body, coupled with his masculine voice, hair, and sharp eyes. He moved closer. “I think if we don’t stop until we get to Billings, and we head straight down from there, we should be ahead of the storm,” Zach suggested. “Uh-huh.” Austin didn’t care. He leaned forward to reach for Zach’s boxers as Zach turned and moved over to the towel rack. Zach dried his face and walked out of the bathroom, leaving Austin standing there feeling like a perverted asshole. He had to give Zach time. Austin shook his head. Part of him missed the days when he didn’t care what his lovers were feeling. But Zach’s anger still gnawed at him. He’d apologized; he wasn’t sure what more he could do. They packed and had a quick breakfast in the hotel restaurant before checking out. They were both polite to each other, almost uncomfortably so. Every time they made eye contact, Zach’s sad smile made a fist form and tighten around Austin’s heart.

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Austin offered to get the car while Zach sat by the fireplace in the hotel lobby and read. Austin double-checked under the hood of the Spectrum, but everything looked clean and in order. New gasket, new window, and new oil in place. Austin settled the bill with Lou. Austin decided he would pay for it, even though he knew Zach would protest. Zach never let him pay for more than his share of any expense. How would we split things if we lived together? The thought floated through Austin’s mind, but he forced it out. Zach had made it perfectly clear he wasn’t ready to move in together. Austin needed to give Zach time. He didn’t know what had happened to make someone as affable and full of goodwill as Zach so distrustful of domesticity, but he was willing to wait for him. Zach made him a better person, and he couldn’t imagine anyone else he’d rather spend the rest of his life waking up next to. Austin turned the engine over. It buzzed to life, and with one last wave at Lou, he drove into the cold and foggy morning. Zach waited for him at the front of the hotel with their bags, cheeks already red from the cold. Austin pulled up, and they loaded the car. “You want me to drive first shift?” Zach asked. “I barely drove the other day. Why don’t I take the first shift?” Austin said. Zach nodded and sat in the passenger seat. He smiled at the repaired window, then knocked on it. “Now all I need to do is get you a new iPod, and we’ll be almost back to normal,” he commented. He glanced at Austin. “How much were the repairs altogether?” “Don’t worry about it,” Austin said. He merged onto I-90. The engine sounded strong, and the temperature gauge stayed cool. “No, come on. How much was it?” Zach asked. “I mean it. Don’t worry about it. Lou cut me a deal.” It was partially true. Lou had given him a heavy discount, but it still hadn’t been cheap.

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Zach scowled. “No way. It’s not your car. It’s not even my car. We’ll hit my parents up for the cash when we get to Boulder.” Austin frowned. “I’m not asking your parents to pay our bills.” Zach looked like he was about to say something but changed his mind. They traveled through hills of evergreens and a stunning, isolated landscape made surreal by the thickness of fog that covered the north of Idaho. It took only an hour to pass through the panhandle of Idaho and cross into Montana. “Oro y plata,” Zach said, smiling at the WELCOME TO MONTANA sign. “Huh?” “Gold and silver,” Zach clarified. “The state motto for Montana.” Austin snorted. “How can that be a motto?” “Better than Idaho’s, which is Let it be perpetual.” “At least that could actually apply to Idaho.” Austin laughed. “What is it for Washington State?” “Al-ki, which means by and by.” “These are all ridiculous.” “You’ll like Maryland’s,” Zach said with a smile. “Manly deeds, womanly words.” Austin laughed. “How do you know all these?” “I spend way too much time reading random lists. Good material for crosswords.” Austin smiled, steering the Spectrum around a slow-moving semi. It disheartened him to floor the pedal and see the car top out at fifty miles an hour, but eventually he passed the truck, although not in time to avoid pissing off several SUVs tailing him. The weather worsened farther east, and rain obscured the landscape. By the time they hit Missoula, sleet mixed with rain, and they were no longer the slowest car on the highway as people carefully navigated the slick surface.

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Tension still lingered in the car. Zach was overly polite, as if afraid to set Austin off. Austin second-guessed everything he wanted to say, for fear of seeing more hurt in Zach’s eyes. They had been driving for several hours when Zach, who had been unusually quiet, suddenly spoke. “Pull over.” Alarm flashed through Austin. “What? Why?” “Just pull over. Soon as you can.” Zach looked grim. Austin thought Zach was going to be sick, and frantically searched for the nearest exit. He pulled off at the interchange with Highway 10A. “What’s wrong?” he asked. “Pull over there.” Zach pointed to a gravel side road. Austin did as requested. He shifted into neutral, turned off the car, and set the parking brake. Zach shook his head. “I can’t take it anymore.” “What?” Austin felt suddenly sick. “This tension.” Zach stared at him intensely. “I’m really sorry about last night.” Austin felt himself flushing. “I know. It’s over, okay?” “No, it isn’t. You’re still hurt, and so am I, and I can think of one way to make it all better.” “What?” The corner of Zach’s mouth curved upward. He reached over and unbuckled Austin’s belt. Austin, stunned, didn’t know what to say or do, and he froze as Zach reached for the zipper of his jeans and pulled out Austin’s cock. “What are you doing?” Austin said, more forcefully than he intended. “What do you think?” Zach asked.

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“Y-you don’t have to do this to apologize!” Austin stumbled on his words as Zach leaned over and pulled Austin’s cock into his mouth. Zach swallowed Austin for a moment before pulling back to smile. “I’ve wanted to do this ever since we started this road trip.” He leaned down again. Austin’s head hit the back of the driver’s seat, and he closed his eyes, body relaxing before his mind caught up. Zach started slowly, his head bobbing as he took Austin in with long, deep swallows. Austin could feel each swipe of Zach’s tongue through his shaft and down into the bones of his toes. He slipped his hands from the steering wheel and rested them in Zach’s hair, kneading a desperate rhythm. In all his years as a driver and as a mechanic, Austin had never gotten a blowjob from a guy in a car. It had been one of those fantasies that, when it came down to it, never seemed practical or comfortable. But here—on a gravel road in the middle of Nowhere, Montana, with the crocheted car seat and the dream catcher, the Star of David, and polka cassette tapes bearing witness—everything seemed right. Zach sped his rhythm. Austin’s cock was rock hard now, thick and long, and Zach could no longer pull him all the way down his throat. He fisted the base in one hand as he swallowed the rest. Austin moaned. He realized he was probably gripping Zach’s hair too hard and relaxed his fingers. He lifted his hips off the car seat and flexed his pelvis to pump his cock into Zach’s mouth with frenzied need. He had to stop before he came. He had to return the favor. Austin could see the painful bulge of Zach’s cock trapped behind unforgiving denim. Austin pressed at Zach’s shoulders, but Zach didn’t stop. “Zach…” Austin gasped, his voice broken. “Let me suck you off.” “You first,” Zach demanded. He moved faster. Austin groaned. There was no way he could hold on much longer. He reached for Zach’s belt, but Zach pushed his hands away.

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“For once I want you to come first,” Zach told him, breathless. His cheeks were flushed, his eyes dilated, his lips red and swollen from sucking Austin’s dick. He looked so fucking hot, Austin grabbed the hair at the back of Zach’s head and pulled his mouth in for a desperate kiss. Their teeth clashed; they struggled to open to each other, careless and starved with need. They broke the kiss, and Austin leaned back and gasped for air. Zach swallowed Austin’s cock deep. Austin could feel himself swell into the back of Zach’s throat, and he came, holding Zach tight to him as pulse after pulse released into his lover. Austin’s body shook afterward, and he blinked at Zach in shock at the power of his release. Zach grinned, mouth swollen and beautiful. “That was fun.” Austin lunged for him, pushing him back into the passenger seat so hard Zach hit his head against the new window. “Ow!” “Sorry!” Austin cried, pulling back. “Sorry, sorry!” “No, come back here.” Zach grabbed Austin’s shirt and pulled him back down on top of him. It wasn’t comfortable. The clutch and parking brake were in the way, and Austin’s knee sent the cassette tapes and water bottle scattering across the floor. But then he kissed Zach, pushing him into the seat, and nothing else mattered. He felt Zach’s lithe body squirm and writhe under his, hot and wicked with need, Zach’s cock pressing hard against Austin’s thigh. Austin growled as he ripped open Zach’s fly. He yanked down Zach’s jeans past his hips so his groin was exposed. Austin cupped Zach’s testicles. They were soft and long, heavy in Austin’s hand, and he rubbed them against his face before pulling Zach’s leaking cock into his mouth.

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It was urgent, foolhardy, and overwhelming, and Austin felt a quivering, beautiful happiness blossom through him as Zach laughed and struggled to make himself more comfortable in the compact car. Austin started laughing as well, and they gasped for breath and fought the damn car until Austin could get purchase without crushing Zach. Once Austin got a rhythm going, it didn’t take long for Zach to climax, filling Austin’s mouth. Austin held it all in and swallowed, pulling back once he was sure he’d got everything. He rested his head on the flat of Zach’s stomach, panting. Somewhere above him, Zach started laughing again. “I think my arm is broken,” he commented. “Wiggle your fingers,” Austin suggested. “Do they move?” Zach squirmed upward. “Oh yeah. My hand’s just trapped in the crack of the seat.” Austin sat up clumsily and pulled Zach up with him. They’d spilled the remains of Austin’s coffee and somehow unraveled one of the polka tapes, but otherwise they were fine. Austin couldn’t have wiped the smile from his face even if he’d tried. “I’ve always wanted to do that,” Zach said, wincing as he gently pressed his still-hard dick back into his jeans. “Me too.” Zach grinned at him. He reached up and wiped the corner of Austin’s mouth with his thumb. Austin straightened his pants and leaned back against the seat to catch his breath. “Thank you,” he said, when he was sure he could think again. “Thank you,” Zach replied. He stroked the back of Austin’s neck.

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With a sigh Austin started the car again. “We’ve still got a long way to go today.” “Want me to take over?” “Nah.” Austin rested his arm on the back of Zach’s seat as he looked behind him, backing up the car. “I feel rejuvenated. I can drive for days now.” Zach looked so pleased with himself, Austin almost said something, but then realized he was being a fool. Instead, he continued on without commentary. Everything was all right between them once again.

*** They found a cheap motel named the Super Sleeper outside of Billings, Montana, and called it quits for the evening. On their side of the interstate, dinner choices were scarce, but neither felt up to exploring Billings itself, so they settled on a couple of gas-station corn dogs and a cheap bottle of wine. This motel room had a prairie theme, complete with moldy buffalo head over the bed. There was a funky mothball smell to the sheets, and the filthy carpet turned the bottoms of their feet black as they walked barefoot to the bathroom. But the TV worked, the room was otherwise cozy, and even though the wind and sleet intensified outside, Austin felt safe inside. Zach lit his menorah and put it in the window of their room. “Teach me the prayer,” Austin said on a whim. Zach’s face brightened. “Yeah?” Austin shrugged. “Why not?” “It’s easy. Just recite after me.” The Hebrew words didn’t come naturally to Austin, but he liked the rhythm— or more important, what saying them seemed to do to Zach, who crawled over Austin’s body and kissed him as he practiced the prayer. “Maybe there’s something to this whole Hanukkah thing after all,” Austin mused.

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“You thinking of converting now?” Zach laughed. “No, I just want to impress your parents.” Zach studied him for a moment, a curious look on his face. “Believe me when I tell you. They’re going to love you.”

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Chapter Five Sunday, December 5

Sunday morning, Zach awoke to a storm. He glanced out the hazy window of the Super Sleeper to view a swirling mass of snow thick enough to dampen even his spirit. This could be bad. But as always, there were two ways to look at any situation, and he chose the optimist’s route. “I bet there’ll be hardly anyone on the roads this morning,” he said cheerfully. “Smooth sailing all the way to Boulder.” Austin mumbled something from bed and, a moment later, stood behind him. He smelled sleepy and warm and draped a heavy arm over Zach’s shoulder. He was still naked, his groin blazingly hot as it came to settle against Zach’s ass. “Looks like hell out there,” Austin grumbled. “Slow and steady,” Zach said. “We can make it. I’ll put on the chains.” Austin snorted. “I’ll put on the chains. You hunt up some breakfast.” “You want to eat here again?” Zach asked. He turned around and caught Austin’s grimace. “I don’t think I can take another corn dog.” “Good point,” Austin said. He glared at the snow. “But we don’t want to make many stops now. We should drive through to Boulder. The weather is only going to worsen.” “Yeah.” Zach kissed Austin. “I’m glad you’re here with me.”

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Austin’s mouth curled into a crooked smile. “I’m glad I’m here too. You’d fuck up those chains.” “I can put chains on a car,” Zach protested. “Have you tried this brand of chain? They’re a real bitch to get on. The good news is that they aren’t going to come off.” They dressed and packed quickly, and in the daylight Zach was able to make out a minimart just up the street. He fetched donuts and coffees and fried chicken for lunch. When he returned, Austin had the chains on, and his jacket was wet from the snow. They headed east on I-90 with a steady fall of snow blurring the horizon. The world was quiet and deadly. To stay fresh and focused, Zach and Austin switched off driving every two hours. Zach had found a few cassette tapes for sale at the minimart, and they rotated through the offerings of Phantom of the Opera, Whitesnake, and Phil Collins in a jarring musical cycle. But the weather worsened to a point where music was nothing but a distraction. A multicar pileup blocked a lane, and the backup stretched over a mile, although they couldn’t move much faster, given the whiteout conditions. The travel time between Billings and Boulder was normally eight hours, but nine hours into their day, they still hadn’t left Montana. The wind increased, and Zach considered pulling off at the nearest motel. But the radio reported a worsening storm front behind this one, and they decided to keep driving through the night if necessary, in the hopes they could reach Boulder in advance of the second storm. It was close to midnight by the time they reached Buffalo, Wyoming, and turned off I-90 to head south on I-25. Snowplows were out in force on I-90, but I-25 hadn’t been plowed for a while, and the road was treacherous. Thick snow drifted across the lanes and whited-out all markings. Zach’s senses twitched with nervous tension as the snow shifted into freezing sleet, and snow-caked patches of ice overtook the cement.

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To its credit, the Spectrum handled the bad roads admirably. The chains gave the car the traction it needed, and the heating vents kept the windows clean, although it was necessary to keep the heat cranked on high. Twice Austin had to lean out the window in the freezing sleet and scrape off ice collected on the windshield. In the small town of Kaycee, they switched seats once more, and Zach took over from Austin. Austin reclined the passenger seat and fell asleep almost immediately. Zach hummed random songs to himself to stay awake but found his mind drifting. He then tried to recite Les Misérables in its entirety, but without an orchestra his rendition lacked…everything. As Austin began to snore, Zach tore his eyes from the road for a moment to take in his slumbering form. The temperature in the car was broiling, and Austin had stripped down to a short-sleeved shirt. His arms, bulging out of the sleeves, crossed over his chest as if he were a slumbering vampire. His sleep-tousled hair darkened in the winter. In summer it would bleach nearly white, but now it was a yellowish gold that gave his pale skin a warmth that shone even in the midst of a blizzard. Zach loved Austin, he realized. He recalled that when he’d first met him, he’d assumed Austin was the one guy in the world Zach wouldn’t connect with. He’d dropped his car off at Austin’s shop, and Austin had looked him over, given him a rakish grin, and asked him if he wanted to go on a date. Zach had expected one date, a night together, and an end. Yet here he was, six months later, in love with the man. Still, the altercation at Coeur d’Alene cautioned Zach as to how temperamental Austin could be. As the storm raged outside, and Austin snored quietly, Zach recalled those lazy Saturday mornings lounging naked in bed, drinking coffee, and reading and making love. He remembered the dinners when Austin would randomly stop by with a couple of steaks, and the two of them would fire up the gas grill on Zach’s balcony and eat and make fun of whatever was on television, or wander the Capitol

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Hill neighborhood, arguing or shopping or laughing. The mundane moments together were what made Zach love Austin, and he realized love overpowered even the memories of his times with Aaron and Ed. Zach trusted Austin. The red glow of hazard lights flashed on the shoulder ahead. Zach slowed. He saw a man beside a disabled vehicle, bundled from eyeballs to toes, frantically waving his arms. “Poor bastard,” Zach said under his breath. Austin’s eyelids snapped open. He sat up. “What’s wrong?” “Nothing. There’s a car stuck on the side of the road.” “Pull over,” Austin said. He rubbed his hand over his face to wake himself up. “What? He could be dangerous.” Austin rolled his eyes. “It’ll be fine. Besides, when was the last time you saw another car on this road? We can’t leave him out here to freeze to death. We have to help.” Zach pulled behind the large silver Lincoln Town Car. The Spectrum swerved as its wheels slipped on a long sheet of ice on the shoulder. For a moment Zach’s heart froze in terror, but then he got the Spectrum to stop. The man rushed forward, looking relieved. He waved as he approached. The severe redness to the man’s cheeks hinted at how long he’d been out there. “Hey, can you help me?” he shouted. Austin rolled the window down. It protested angrily, squealing and resisting, ice crunching at the base. “What’s wrong with your car?” Austin asked. The man pulled off the scarf that covered the lower half of his face. He looked grizzled, but he smiled warmly. “Damned if I know!” he said. “Engine just fizzled out, and now it won’t start! Can you give me a lift into Casper?” “Sure,” Austin offered.

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“Thank God! I really appreciate this, man. My name’s Dave.” He offered his hand through the open window, and Austin shook it. Zach smiled back. “Looks pretty cold out there.” “Damn if it isn’t miserable!” Dave chuckled. Austin unlocked the passenger door and reached for the handle. Dave yanked the door open all the way and grabbed Austin by the collar of his T-shirt. He pulled a pistol out of his pocket and forced the barrel of the gun hard under Austin’s chin. “Change of plans, boys,” Dave said with a smile.

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Chapter Six Monday, December 6

Austin was dragged out of the car by his collar. Dave grinned as he shoved Austin down into the ditch alongside the highway. Austin landed hard, a sickening pain crunching through his left ankle. He scrambled up the bank, snow burning his bare arms and neck as he slipped in the deep ravine. “Austin!” He heard Zach cry out. Fury rushed through him, and he clawed at the ice and crawled over the lip of the pavement. He charged Dave. Dave pointed the gun at Zach’s head. “Back off!” he told Austin. Austin froze, hands up. His glance flickered to Zach. Zach’s nose bled, and he was wide-eyed and pale as a ghost. Dave cocked the hammer of the pistol, and Austin felt vomit rise in his throat. “Don’t!” he gasped, breathless. He limped backward. Dave nodded. “Good decision.” “You hurt him, I’ll fucking kill you.” “Bye-bye.” Dave sat in the passenger seat and shut the Spectrum’s door. Austin saw Dave aim the gun at the side of Zach’s head but couldn’t hear what he said.

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Zach turned and looked at Austin. His eyes were wild, but Dave must have said something else, because Zach faced the road, released the parking brake, and hit the gas. The Spectrum’s tires skidded on the icy shoulder, squealing as they sought friction. Austin watched in dread as they drove away without him. Austin limped after them until he slipped on the ice and fell to his knees. “Fuck!” he yelled to no one in particular. His teeth chattered forcefully. His entire body shook, and his palms were vivid red from the chill and rough surface of the ice. His sweater, coat, and cell phone were all in the Spectrum. He was going to freeze within minutes. But worse was the horror that Zach would be killed by that bastard. The fear in Zach’s eyes was a knife in Austin’s gut. He never wanted to see Zach look like that again. Austin screamed in fury, but no one heard him. He shivered so badly he could barely keep standing. Austin noticed Dave’s abandoned car still had its lights on. He walked to it and sat inside, grateful to at least be out of the wind. The silver Lincoln Town Car was a limited edition, with a rich, camel-colored leather interior and a wood-paneled steering wheel and dash. The plush inside reeked of cigarettes. A set of keys with a picture of two young children attached were in the slot. Austin turned the ignition, but the engine stalled. The battery worked, but the car was dead. Austin sat there for a few minutes, curled tightly until he got his shaking under control. He turned on the overhead light and saw a map on the passenger seat. It was a road map with a circle around Shoshoni, Wyoming. An address was scrawled in barely legible writing on the front.

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Austin could only assume that was where the bastard was headed, but there was no way to get there unless he got a ride. Or fixed the car he was in. He dreaded the idea of going outside again. He leaned back and rifled through a paltry collection of personal belongings in the backseat, finding a few items that looked like they belonged to an older woman. He tried on a woman’s cardigan, but he couldn’t get his arms through the holes, so he settled for tying it around his neck like a scarf. In the glove box, he found matches, a weak flashlight, and registration and proof of insurance for someone named Margaret Wheatlock. Austin popped the hood, then braced himself for the cold. He grabbed the flashlight and stumbled outside, the sleet slicing into his exposed face and arms like needles. The cold numbed his extremities. Austin surveyed the car under the hood. As he looked over the engine, he realized the problem, if it was the only one, was an easy fix. The fuel line had broken loose. Pressure had spewed gas over the inside, but the line itself wasn’t cracked. He fumbled with frozen fingers as he struggled to reconnect the valve without tools. He couldn’t tighten the bolt quickly. He forced his frozen fingers to bend and work the clamp, the image of Zach’s terrified face blocking out the pain in his ankle, the burn of the cold. Once he reconnected the line, he slammed the hood and limped back inside. The car engine started beautifully, and he cranked the heat. He toggled off the hazards, turned on the headlights, and pulled the car onto the highway. Shoshoni was west, so Dave would have to get off I-25 at Casper and take Highway 20 to reach the town. The real question was whether he’d bother to keep Zach alive or if he’d simply toss him from the car and go on alone. With his focus split between the blizzard-whitened road and the shoulder for signs of Zach, Austin headed south.

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And he’d never thought he’d be grateful for an old Lincoln Town Car, but the bottom line was this: it was faster than a 1989 Geo Spectrum.

*** Zach had a hard time breathing. He was more frightened than he’d ever been. Having a gun pointed at his neck made many things difficult, like remembering to change gears, concentrate, or take deep breaths. And the bloody nose didn’t help. He couldn’t lean back and still drive, but blood continued to drip from his swollen nostrils. When Dave had smashed the butt of the pistol into his face, Zach’s first thought had been how furious Bubbie would be now that he’d bled all over the steering wheel. But all his thoughts thereafter were about Austin, who would be dead within the hour. Tears stung Zach’s eyes, but he kept his focus on the treacherous road ahead. The look of shock and fear he’d seen in the rearview mirror as he’d driven away from Austin would tear at his soul forever. “Go faster,” Dave urged, jamming the barrel of the pistol against Zach’s neck. “You don’t have to press harder, I hear you.” Zach sped up infinitesimally. “You can have the car. I’ll get out. I won’t stop you.” “I need you to drive,” Dave told him. He unwrapped his scarf and hat to reveal a head of greasy brown curling hair, a pockmarked, scarred face, steel blue eyes, but a large, surprisingly sweet smile that was at odds with the rest of his harsh appearance. “I can’t drive stick,” Dave told Zach. He laughed. “What a bitch, huh?” Part of Zach hoped they’d end up stranded, because it would increase the chances of Austin being able to catch up to them.

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But that was a ridiculous fantasy anyway, Zach chided himself. Austin was dying from hypothermia. He was in a T-shirt in a blizzard. Zach choked back his tears and focused on the road. They passed a car going the other direction. Zach considered flashing his lights for help but realized the driver would assume it meant some warning about road conditions. Nothing about blinking lights in a blizzard suggested, I’m being held at gunpoint. Please alert the appropriate authorities. “I could teach you how to drive stick,” Zach offered, but Dave poked the gun hard against his neck. “Just fucking drive!” Zach flinched and stayed quiet for several minutes. Dave relaxed, and he lowered the gun from Zach’s neck. “You got anything to eat in here? I’m starved.” “Our food was already stolen by someone else,” Zach said bitterly. Dave seemed to think this was pretty funny. He stretched out in the passenger seat. Zach knew if he were a braver man, now would be the time to make a move— punch the guy or swerve the car violently to knock Dave over and steal the gun. But Zach was a land-use planner who liked sad Asian flicks, barbecue, and a good book. He had no delusions of grandeur. He was not, nor would he ever be, an action hero. So he kept driving as Dave familiarized himself with their backseat belongings. He sniffed at the empty chicken container, then tossed it back, heedless of the grease he was no doubt spilling onto Bubbie’s seats. “Where are we going?” Zach ventured. His voice shook. “None of your fucking business,” Dave said. He stared out the front window, grimacing. “You’re gonna take the Yellowstone Highway out of Casper, got it? To fucking Bethany’s goddamned house.” Zach didn’t ask for details. However, Dave wanted to share them.

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“Never trust a fucking woman, boy,” Dave told Zach. “They’re all lying bitches.” “Good to know,” Zach said shakily. “And that bitch Bethany’s the queen fucking liar of them all.” Dave gave a half cough, half chuckle, and for a moment Zach hoped he was dying, but he was just clearing his throat. “Couldn’t wait two fucking years until I got out? That’s all I asked. Two fucking years! And that son of a bitch Riley’s in her fucking shorts.” Zach offered nothing in way of response. He started calculating what a man might be imprisoned for two years for. Armed robbery? Assault? Probably not murder. He felt slightly better. Of course, that assumed Dave had been officially released from prison. “I shoulda known with her. Girl like that, she’s destined to be a whore.” “So why do you want to see her?” Zach asked. “Because she’s going to fucking pay for cheating on me!” Dave yelled. “Nobody fucks with me like that and gets away with it! I’ve dreamed of gutting her for months now.” Zach’s hands shook. He needed to be smart, not witty, or else he would end up dead and would never be able to report Austin’s location to anyone. As Dave continued to detail what he planned to do to his ex-girlfriend, Zach realized this whole tragedy was his fault. Austin was freezing to death, alone in the middle of nowhere, and it was because of him. It was his stupid idea to do this road trip. Some consolation prize for Austin. Not only do I not trust you enough to live with you, I’m going to leave you to freeze to death in a ditch in Buttfuck, Wyoming. Zach wondered what it would feel like to freeze to death. Probably very terrible, he decided. Dave occasionally interrupted his diatribe on the evils of Bethany to describe the generalized depravities of womankind. He’d turn to Zach for feedback but continue on before Zach even had enough saliva in his bone-dry mouth to answer.

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At one point Dave asked Zach if he had ever been married, and when Zach croaked a weak no, Dave seemed to think this a bonding moment. He let the gun go lax in his hands as he launched into a fantasy of all the things his old best friend Riley would feel before he died an excruciating death for sleeping with Dave’s girl. Zach’s fear, after time, mellowed into an exhaustion. He didn’t have the energy to be terrified on high alert much longer. And he found Dave’s monotonous revenge soliloquy tiring, although he didn’t offer any critique. Dave’s attention was distracted by the Star of David keychain dangling from the glove-compartment lock. “What’s this shit?” Dave asked, flicking it. “Star of David,” Zach answered. “What are you, a Jew?” What amazing powers of deduction you have, Zach nearly said but censored himself by saying nothing. Dave might have found women and Riley offensive, but apparently being Jewish was okay. He shrugged. “My uncle’s a Jew. Rest of the family’s Swedish.” “Oh yeah?” Zach offered neutrally. “Hey, how many Swedes does it take to grease a combine?” Zach’s fear nearly made him incapable of answering. “I don’t know.” “Only two, if you run them through real slow.” Dave cackled at his joke. Dave offered another. “Did you hear about the Swede who went ice fishing and came back with ten pounds of ice?” Zach laughed nervously, a sound that sounded a bit like crying with a smile. Dave didn’t seem to mind. Luckily, Zach knew a few racial jokes himself. “Did you hear about the Swede who couldn’t eat spaghetti? He didn’t have long enough dishes.” To his relief, Dave laughed. “That’s a good one, boy!”

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Zach nodded. “Or about the Swede who loved his wife so much he almost told her?” Dave smacked Zach on the side of the face. It stunned him and left him cowed into silence. “Not funny!” Dave yelled. Zach cursed himself, only imagining what Austin would have made of this repartee. Austin had told Zach he couldn’t joke his way out of every situation. And boy was he painfully right. Zach remained silent until they reached the outskirts of Casper. They passed a sheriff’s patrol car. Zach racked his mind for ways to alert someone to his plight, but nothing came to mind. Thanks to the heavy application of deicer through the city, the interstate was cleared substantially better than other segments of the highway. But they didn’t get to enjoy the bare route for long, because Dave prodded Zach with the gun. “Take that exit there, the US 20 bypass.” The car fishtailed through a loose snowdrift, but it exited without crashing. Zach kept looking behind him. Now that they were going off the interstate, there would be no way for anyone to know where he was. “We’re nearly out of gas,” Zach said quietly. He hoped they would stop somewhere populated, where he could attract attention. Dave grunted and leaned close to Zach to check the gauge. Zach felt an overwhelming repulsion for the man and almost swerved the vehicle to push him away. “Do you want me to pull off at a gas station?” Zach asked hopefully. “Not yet. Keep going.” Dave looked pissed. They headed west on the bypass road until they hit the Old Yellowstone Highway and curved north. Even with the gun and the terrible weather, this change in direction scared Zach more than anything else. He was heading into the

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wilderness of Wyoming with an armed convict in a blizzard, and no one would know where to even look for him. As they hit a service road, the population of slow-moving vehicles increased, and so did Dave’s attention to Zach. The gun resumed its position at Zach’s head. “Nice and easy,” Dave told him. “Nothing fancy.” “I don’t do fancy,” Zach reassured him. Dave was quiet for a moment. Then he nodded at a truck stop. “Turn right. We’ll get gas there.” Zach obeyed orders, keenly aware of the gun as the car bounced over a pothole and his hands were nearly jerked from the wheel. It would only take a slip of Dave’s finger, and Zach would be either dead or spending the rest of his life with a feeding tube, watching others eat without him. The gas station appeared nearly buried as plows cleared the roadway and piled filthy snow in front of the establishment. Zach bypassed the commercial fuel tanks and stopped the car alongside one of the four car gas pumps. If he was planning on escaping, now was the time. Anxiety coursed through him. Dave took the keys from the ignition and put them in his pocket. “Give me your credit card,” he demanded. Zach fumbled for the wallet in his pocket. He handed Dave his card. “You make a move, a sound, so much as a hand wave, I shoot you.” Dave got out of the car and stood outside Zach’s window, processing the card, then facing him as he filled the tank. The gun was visible, tucked within his belt, and he kept his left hand close to it as he held the fuel pump in his right. Terror nearly froze him, but Zach knew this would be the last chance he had before they headed west on Highway 20 and to doomed Bethany. He slowly reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone. He kept it low, under the dash, and Dave didn’t seem to notice. He watched the other vehicles warily.

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Zach hit the number 2 button on his phone, which was programmed for Austin’s mobile. He knew the chance of Austin still being alive to answer the call was slim, but he had to try. He heard the opening riff of “Back in Black” muffled somewhere in the backseat and quickly hung up the call. Zach glanced up to see if Dave noticed Austin’s phone ringing, but Dave was still preoccupied with filling the tank. But then he glanced down and made eye contact. He reached for the gun, and Zach stared straight ahead. Fuck. Why the hell had Austin chosen AC/DC as Zach’s ringtone? Zach shook his head. That wasn’t important right now. What was more pressing was the fact that Austin didn’t have his phone with him, which meant there had been no way for him to get help. He had to be dead by now. Before he lost his nerve completely, Zach dialed 911 on the cell, turned the volume to low, and dropped it into the well under his seat.

*** It had taken Austin less than half an hour to catch up to the Geo Spectrum rumbling along Interstate 25 at a slow but steady thirty miles per hour. Austin had to speed to reach them, and the Lincoln didn’t have chains. Several times the car slid, but he remained calm and avoided fishtailing his way out of each slip. It was reckless driving that he’d never condone in any other circumstance. But Zach’s life was in danger, and it was all Austin’s fault. Austin slammed his palm against the steering wheel. What kind of fucking idiot picked up a strange man on a highway at midnight? Austin’s confidence in his strength was worth nothing against a loaded weapon. And now Zach was paying for Austin’s stupidity. When Austin finally spotted the Spectrum, he moved close enough to make certain there were still two people in the car; then he backed far enough away to

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allow a sizable and safe gap between cars and to make sure Dave could only see headlights and not the make of Austin’s vehicle. They didn’t stop for over an hour. Austin’s gas tank was low, and there was a chance he’d have to abandon the chase and pull over at a station to alert the authorities if they didn’t fill up soon. Luckily, shortly after they turned off I-25, the Spectrum pulled onto a service road and into a truck stop. Austin parked the Lincoln to the side of the minimart. He couldn’t fill up the car, since his wallet was in the Spectrum. He remained in shadow, where he could keep an eye on Zach and Dave. He rifled once more through the belongings but found nothing that could be used as a weapon. Zach stayed in the car. Austin watched Dave fill the tank. Loathing crawled over Austin. He wanted to kill that man. The entire drive Austin had been imagining what his life would be like without Zach around. The strength of horror that filled him answered any lingering questions he had about the depth of his feelings toward Zach. Without Zach’s smile, his optimism and romantic spirit and humor and affection, Austin’s life would be bleak at best. He hadn’t realized how addicted he’d become to the relaxed happiness he felt when Zach was with him, but it had happened. He loved Zach and couldn’t bear returning to a life without him. Austin popped the trunk and stepped out of the car. He quickly searched the trunk, glancing up frequently to make sure Zach and Dave weren’t about to drive off without him. In the trunk of the Lincoln, he found a spare tire and short but heavy crowbar. He shut the trunk and stood beside the car, at the ready. The snow fell lightly now. The bulk of the storm had passed farther north, but it was still only a degree or two above freezing, and within seconds Austin started shaking again. Dave finished filling the tank, then opened the driver’s-side door. He forcefully yanked Zach out of the car. Alarm rushed through Austin.

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Austin couldn’t hear what Dave said, but Zach’s expression instantly dulled, and he walked forward, Dave following a step behind. Terror seized Austin. He’s going to shoot Zach. As the men passed under the station lights, Austin saw the bruises on Zach’s face, his bloody nose and red-rimmed eyes, and the tumult of fear in Austin’s heart went instantly quiet. Cold, pure hate saturated Austin. Guilt and doubt faded. He was going to kill Dave. Nothing else mattered. Zach marched stiffly through the snow, Dave urging him forward with the gun. They did not enter the gas station. Instead Dave shoved Zach to the side of the building, behind a Dumpster. Austin burst into a run.

*** “I have to take a piss,” Dave declared. Zach was jerked from the car by his coat. The movement caught him by surprise, and he stumbled out of the car. He moved to raise his hands, but Dave stabbed the pistol sharply into Zach’s lower back. “Put your hands down!” Dave whispered from behind. “Walk forward, you son of a bitch, and look natural or I’ll fucking kill you!” Dave directed him to the side of the convenience store. “Go all the way back by the Dumpster.” Terror filled Zach. In that blackened corner, Dave could easily shoot him, since there was no place to run or hide. Yet he stepped forward, scared into following orders. The darkness of the narrow space between the Dumpster and the building swallowed Zach. He slipped on thick ice and steadied himself against the cold brick wall. A shadow moved to his right. Fear locked his throat shut. He turned.

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Austin stepped out of the darkness and smashed a crowbar against the side of Dave’s face. Dave crumpled instantly. He fell in a heap at Zach’s feet. Austin kicked Dave in the gut, picked up his dropped pistol, and then hovered over the body for a moment, uncertain. “Austin!” Zach croaked, too stunned with shock and relief to say more. Austin pulled Zach to him in an urgent embrace. Zach held him tightly, joy filling him entirely. Austin’s body shook violently, whether from adrenaline or the cold, Zach didn’t know. He held Austin tighter, hoping to warm him. Austin pushed Zach against the cold wall and kissed him. His lips were like ice. “Jesus, are you okay?” Austin cradled Zach’s face. Austin looked terrified. Zach was still too stunned to speak, so he just nodded. He placed his hand against Austin’s shirt, felt his frantic heartbeat. “I thought you were dead,” Zach said, his voice breaking. He dragged his sleeve over his eyes. “I thought I’d lost you.” Austin gripped him again. They held each other silently. To Zach’s amazement, he felt the rhythmic tremble in Austin’s body, heard him sniff, and realized he was crying. “God, you’re freezing!” Zach unzipped his coat, shed it quickly, and helped Austin pull it on. Zach’s arms were shorter than Austin’s, but Austin looked too grateful to complain. Sirens sounded nearby. “I dialed 911 before getting out of the car,” he said. Austin stared down at Dave’s unmoving body. “Good.” He gently prodded Dave’s leg with his foot. “I wonder if I killed him.” “I think he’s still breathing,” Zach said after a moment. “I don’t care either way,” Austin said.

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“Neither do I, but it’ll be less trouble for us if the bastard is still alive.” A police prowler pulled into the truck stop. “Come on. Let’s go talk to them.” He moved to step out of the shadows, but Austin grabbed his sleeve and held him back. “Wait. Zach.” Austin swallowed. His teeth chattered. “I really love you.” Zach’s chill faded instantly. He blinked back tears. “Hold on, Austin. I’ll be right back.”

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Chapter Seven Tuesday, December 7

It took nearly three hours with Wyoming State Patrol to clear up the night’s events before Zach and Austin were allowed to go. They gave separate accounts to officers inside the convenience store, out of the storm. An ambulance carted Dave away, and an EMT bandaged Austin’s twisted ankle. The police in turn informed them David Magnusson was indeed a recently paroled violent offender who had stolen a weapon and kidnapped and killed a woman by the name of Margaret Wheatlock. Dave’s ex-girlfriend Bethany was notified of his release and subsequent capture. By the time they were set free, it was four in the morning. They grabbed their bags out of the Spectrum, stumbled across the street to a trucker motel called the Budget Chalet, and got a room. Austin curled protectively around Zach, and they both slept like the dead. Austin didn’t wake up until noon. Light streamed in through the grungy motel windows, illuminating a blank white landscape and sunny skies. Austin stretched, his body achy from the previous night’s tensions. He unwound the bandage on his ankle and prodded it gently. The swelling was nearly gone. Austin leaned over Zach and brushed his dark hair up into a spike on his head. Zach slept on, curled to face Austin. His nose was a little swollen, and a bruise marred his right cheek. But there was a smile on his lips. Dark stubble covered his face, and long, dark eyelashes formed crescents under his eyes. He smelled sleepy and warm. Austin kissed his lips.

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The gratitude Austin felt, having Zach with him, alive and well, was allembracing and whole. He could think of no one or thing more precious to him at that moment, and he knew he’d do anything to preserve this, to keep what they had safe. Zach blinked and opened his eyes. He stretched. “Morning,” he said, his voice croaky with sleep. Austin looked at him intently. “What?” Zach asked. He narrowed his eyes. “You’re looking at me funny. Is my nose crooked?” “No.” Austin smiled. “You look amazing.” Zach grinned. “You feel all right?” Austin asked. Zach nodded. “I was more scared than hurt. I’m still just amazed and grateful that you’re alive.” He stroked Austin’s body, and Austin reciprocated the gesture. The two kissed and felt each other in a lazy exploration of flesh. Austin’s arousal wasn’t hungry but instead was a gentle thing, blooming with each caress. Their kiss was like speaking—sharing words that were silent. Austin slid Zach’s boxers off. He ran his fingers down Zach’s hairy, warm chest, and turned to take Zach deep into his mouth. He felt Zach’s hands, blazing hot against his inner thighs, spreading open Austin’s legs. Austin’s breath caught in his throat. Zach kissed wetly down Austin’s shaft, and Austin groaned, his voice muffled around Zach’s heavy cock. They found a rhythm together, a slow and lazy push and pull, Austin’s world dissolving into only Zach’s body, being filled by him, filling him. All his senses converged into this one intense, wet heat, pleasure expanding and racing through his nerves. He wished he could hold back, but Zach urged him wider and cupped his balls. Austin came, surprised by the speed of it on such a languid

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morning, dazed by how quickly it had grown from a mellow pleasure to all-out ecstasy. He clasped Zach’s buttocks and pulled him to his face, and Zach writhed, pumping his hips. Austin coaxed him into his climax, feeling Zach’s rapture in each clutching grasp. They lay there panting afterward, Austin too glutted on pleasure to even bother turning around. “I can’t get enough of this view,” Zach commented from between Austin’s legs. He rested his head on Austin’s inner thigh, and his breath caressed the sensitive skin beneath Austin’s scrotum. It tickled, but Austin didn’t pull away. “I suppose you want to hit the road,” Austin said after a while. Zach was quiet for a moment. He turned his head and kissed Austin’s thigh. “Nah, not yet. Let’s sleep more and do that again.” Austin found the energy needed to turn around and pull Zach to him. “We only have one more day to make it to your folks’ house before Hanukkah is officially over.” “I know,” Zach said. “But this was a trip about you and me as well, and after last night I just want to have you. We’ll get there tomorrow and have a whole day to spend with family. For now I want to be with you alone.” “Yeah?” “Yeah.” Zach reached up and touched Austin’s rough cheek. “You’re my hero, you know.” Austin swallowed. “I’m the one who put you in danger. If I hadn’t been such an idiot and—” Zach kissed him. Thoughts fled Austin’s mind, especially when Zach broke and smiled radiantly. “I love you. And everything else is the past.” Austin nodded. They would leave the past in the past.

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They slept on and off and made love again that afternoon, although this time, more conscious, they were louder. Loud enough to piss off the trucker trying to sleep next door, who banged on the wall and demanded they give it a rest. Austin bundled up and searched for food while Zach slept on. The roads were clear and busy once more, filthy snow lining each lane. When he returned, he found Zach still naked in bed, but he was awake. He had his arms crossed behind his head and stared intently at the ceiling, as if pondering some great thought. Austin’s stomach clenched. It looked like Zach wanted to say something meaningful, which would either break Austin’s heart or send it soaring. But instead Zach blinked and gave Austin a crooked smile. “What did you find?” Austin presented Zach with a bouquet from behind his back. He’d built it in the lobby out of dried flowers he found at the minimart across the street, two bottled waters, two cheeseburgers, french fries, and hot apple pies, and a cassette tape of Styx, one of those bands he knew Zach adored but would never admit to loving. Zach laughed. They ate together to the sound of the football game on TV. Austin watched it out of the corner of his eye but was more intrigued by Zach’s strange silence next to him. Something preoccupied him, and it made Austin nervous. Austin replayed last night’s image of the crowbar smashing against Dave’s head. It haunted him, and now he wondered if the same sight burned into Zach’s memory. Austin knew Zach thought of him as a violent man. And Austin hadn’t done anything to improve that impression on this road trip. “Did I ever tell you about Ed Majors?” Zach asked. He stared blankly at the football game, slowly eating french fries one at a time. “No.” Austin frowned. “Wait, is he the guy you dated a few years ago?”

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Zach nodded. “He wasn’t anything like you, really. Self-centered, egotistical prick when it came down to it. Some high-powered software salesman from the east side. Thought he was amazing all around. But he was the same size as you. Big blond, liked to work out, all muscle and attitude.” Austin held his breath, cheeseburger in his hand. Zach watched football. “He was a violent man, Austin. It started small, kind of playful slaps, aggressive foreplay, pulling me around as a sort of joke. Then it stopped being funny, but I didn’t know when to call it quits.” Sickness filled Austin’s throat. “He wasn’t the only guy either,” Zach continued. “I seem to have a penchant for picking men with a bit of rough. Steve was an asshole. And Aaron, while never physically violent, was a mean person who liked to hurt me with words. Neither of them were as bad as Ed, but all of them represent a pattern.” Zach swallowed and stared down at the bedspread. “I make bad choices. I’m like a moth to a flame. My desires draw me to the worst kind of men, and I’ve paid heavily for it.” He took a deep, shuddering breath. Austin felt his heart breaking before the words were even out, but he forced himself to remain still, to keep the tears in just a bit longer, so that when Zach broke up with him, he wouldn’t fall apart completely. “And then there’s you,” Zach said, letting out his breath. He made eye contact. “And I’ve been so afraid to trust you after what I let Ed get away with. I know what men like you are capable of. I know what could happen.” “I’m not like any of those bastards,” Austin broke in, incapable of not defending himself. “I’d kill myself before laying a finger on you!” Zach’s eyes were wet, but he gave a small smile. “I know. And I believe that.” Austin swallowed. “So what are you saying?” “I’m repeating what I said earlier today. I love you, and everything else is in the past. You have a temper. You are a large, strong man. And that’s where

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comparisons between you and Ed end. Because where his strength left me feeling vulnerable, yours makes me feel safe.” “I’m sorry about what happened in Idaho.” Austin put his hand on Zach’s naked thigh. “If you want me to take anger-management classes, I’ll do it. Hell, I’ll take up knitting if it would help me keep you.” Austin winced, cursing his stupid words. “I’m sure those other fuckers who hurt you made promises as well. But all I can do is swear I’ll never betray the trust you put in me.” “I know that.” Zach nodded. “I wanted you to know where my hesitations are coming from. A future with you isn’t what I’m afraid of, Austin. It’s a repeat of the past.” “We won’t let that happen,” Austin said vehemently. “And I won’t push you. You make the decision when you want to live with me, Zach. I’m willing to wait. I’ll wait as long as it takes, because there isn’t a single person on this earth who I’d rather be with, and if I have to bide my time alone until you trust me, I will.” Zach kissed him, pulled him closer, and Austin felt like falling apart, relief and grief and fury toward the men who’d hurt Zach in the past coalescing into an explosive emotion that was stronger than joy, more gut-wrenching than regret. It was love in its raw form, and it left him stunned and assured that the future promised something greater than he’d known before. They stayed until evening in the dark embrace of that seedy motel, and then they headed on their way.

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Chapter Eight Wednesday, December 8

Zach and Austin reached Boulder around noon the following day. It was the last day of Hanukkah. Zach already dreaded the grief his family would dole out for missing most of the holiday. The snow wasn’t as thick in Boulder, and the skies were clear, highlighting the impressive Flatiron Mountain Range, jagged, razor-edged peaks jutting from the earth at haphazard angles. Traffic in downtown Boulder was heavy with early holiday shoppers, and they suffered through strip-mall congestion until they reached the outskirts of the city and turned into the community of Gun Barrel. Zach’s parents had purchased an attractive, modern, two-story, cream-colored home with a suite above the detached garage. The planner within Zach winced at the cul-de-sac and the lack of sidewalks on the main road, but the neighborhood seemed friendly, and he noticed his parents’ house wasn’t the only one lacking Christmas lights. Austin had changed clothes three times that morning, rejecting and eventually reselecting a dark blue button-down shirt to go with his jeans. He even ironed it. Zach wasn’t sure what surprised him more: the fact that Austin knew how to iron a shirt or that the Budget Chalet provided ironing boards and irons in its guest rooms. Zach knew Austin was tense, but he didn’t focus on it. He was too excited about seeing his family again. The last year had been weird, not having dinners with his parents, not running errands every weekend for his grandmother. He

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hadn’t noticed what an impression his family had made on his life in Seattle until they were gone. Colored black with road filth and salt, windows grimy with deicer, insides stained with chicken grease and Zach’s blood, the Geo Spectrum had nevertheless survived the journey. It had fifteen hundred extra miles, but a new head gasket and passenger window. Two of Bubbie’s polka cassettes didn’t make it. The second Zach turned off the engine, the front door of his parents’ house opened, and his family spilled out. His mother, father, and grandmother burst from the door. Zach hugged Bubbie first, feeling her age in the thinness of her flesh, the prominence of bones. But her eyes still twinkled, and her hair was tastefully coiffed in a bun. She wore her fanciest gold earrings, a sign she was truly excited about Zach’s visit. As the family swarmed Zach, he glanced back to see Austin cautiously get out of the car. He looked awkward, and Zach didn’t blame him. As questions flew at Zach, complaints about the state of the car, inquiries into what he’d been eating, he broke free of his family and stood protectively at Austin’s side. He put his arm around Austin’s shoulders. “Mom, Dad, Bubbie, I want you to meet Austin.” Zach gave Austin’s shoulder a squeeze. Austin blushed bright red. “Hi…” He wasn’t given a chance to speak. Zach’s father shook Austin’s hand. “Come in! Come in, both of you, for crying out loud! What are we all standing out in the cold for?” “Do you know what day it is?” Zach’s mother complained. Zach shouldered his backpack and grabbed his suitcase, while Zach’s father grabbed Austin’s belongings. “Yeah, Ma, I know.” “It’s December eighth, in case you forgot.”

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“I didn’t forget, Ma.” “It’s the last day of Hanukkah.” “Well, I’ve always saved the best for last.” Zach winked at Austin, who made a hopeless attempt to take his bags from Zach’s father. Zach’s father practically shoved Austin out of the way and carried them in. “Don’t try and help him. With anything,” Zach warned Austin under his breath. The smells of dinner cooking, the sights of all his family’s trinkets—his Bubbie’s menorah in the window, the strange wooden elephants from some Indonesian tourist trap his father adored above the living-room sofa, his mother’s knitting needles, his Bubbie’s dog-eared book of crosswords—it all brought Zach soaring home, regardless of the fact that he’d never stepped foot in this room before. Home was clearly not a physical place as much as an idea, and the idea here was that he belonged, that the childhood memories he held from their house in Seattle still lived in this random collection of family traits, these signs of Roth-family habitation. “I’ve got you two all set up in the basement,” Zach’s mother said, touching Zach’s shoulder. She looked older as well, but apparently he wasn’t the only one taking in the changes. “Something’s happened to your nose.” His mother reached up and gently touched his face. “And a bruise! Has someone hit you?” She immediately turned to scowl at Austin in the hallway. “Yeah, but it’s a long story,” Zach told her. “Let’s get settled, and we’ll tell you all about it at dinner.” Austin still looked dazed. Zach pulled him aside to whisper, “They’re nice people. They may shout a lot and talk at the same time, but remember no one’s angry. This is just how we communicate in this family.” “Now I see where you get your bubbly enthusiasm,” Austin said.

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After dropping their belongings downstairs, Zach and Austin gave Bubbie a rundown of the health of her car. Then they all sat down for an early dinner. Zach’s mother handed the large match to Austin and asked him, as a guest, to light all the menorah candles for the family. Austin blinked and, for a moment, looked too stunned to react. But he quickly recovered his wits. To Zach’s relief, Austin remembered to light the shamash candle first and use it to light the others, although he went in the wrong direction. Bubbie scowled, but no one said anything. His entire family recited the prayers, speaking in orchestrated unison. Austin mumbled along with them, trying to keep up. When they all finished at the same time, Zach caught Austin’s eye and smiled. “I didn’t know you were Jewish,” Zach’s mother said to Austin, passing a heaping bowl of mashed potatoes. “I’m not,” Austin said. “Zach taught me some of the prayers on our way here.” Zach’s mother seemed to find this impressive and began lecturing Austin on the meaning of each word. Over the course of dinner, Zach detailed the many horrors and few wonders of their journey, complete with a blow-by-blow of his time as hostage. Austin chipped in a few details here and there when asked but otherwise remained silent, watching the family warily. Zach’s family, at first annoyed by his late arrival, capitulated instantly as soon as they heard what the two men had endured. They lavished all sorts of concern upon them, to the point that Zach’s father threatened to sue Wyoming for releasing such a violent offender, and Bubbie wanted to send Austin to the hospital in case his ankle had been permanently damaged. It was a boisterous dinner, and afterward Zach’s family exchanged gifts. His parents gave him a digital photo frame loaded with pictures of their family; Bubbie got him a set of oven mitts in the shape of Stars of David.

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“Wow. Thanks,” Zach said. He saw Austin trying not to laugh on the other side of the table. His parents and grandmother also had gifts for Austin. Austin received an expensive bottle of wine from Zach’s parents. Zach’s father was an amateur connoisseur of wine, so Zach had no doubt the bottle was valuable. Therefore he decided not to mention they weren’t planning on checking bags and wouldn’t be able to take it back with them on the plane. “Thank you. We should open and share this now,” Austin said, clearly thinking the same thing. Bubbie thrust her wrapped gift forward. “Zach told us you like football, yes?” “I do.” Austin nodded. “So I hope you can wear this happily!” Austin unwrapped a Denver Broncos hat. His face momentarily darkened. Zach knew his grandmother liked to watch everything on television, including football, and was surprised she didn’t know better than to assume a fan of one football team would appreciate paraphernalia from another team. But then he saw the wicked gleam in his grandmother’s eye and realized it was deliberate. Austin recuperated politely. “Thank you so much.” He pushed the hat aside as if it were a distasteful thing and reached for the wine. They opened the bottle and moved into the living room. Of course Zach’s family had to regale Austin with their classic memories of his childhood. The “fell in a manhole” tale was an old-time family favorite, along with the “vomit onstage in fifth grade” and “plastic gun dart stuck up left nostril” stories. The time Zach got food poisoning, the day he got on the wrong train and headed to Vancouver, British Columbia, instead of Vancouver, Washington, and yes, the time he got left behind on the band bus. All his worst moments were shared like favorite scenes from a comic movie. And after several glasses of good wine, Austin finally began to relax. He offered his own making-fun-of-Zach stories that had Zach’s family rolling in

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laughter. Then Austin was dragged to the family garage by Zach’s father for a complete evaluation of the Roth-family vehicles. “What do you think of this Subaru Legacy here?” his dad asked. “It’s a good, solid, reliable car,” Austin said. “You see? That’s what I told you, Rose! A reliable car! My words exactly!” He maneuvered over to the other vehicle. “And what about this? Eh?” “Nissan Altima?” Austin gave a polite inspection of the outside. “Got it for three thousand dollars! I found a man here in Gun Barrel, and what a deal we worked out. Runs like a charm!” Austin nodded. “They’re a good company, and they handle well in bad weather.” “Exactly, exactly!” Zach’s father slapped Austin on the back. “I knew you’d appreciate it!” He popped the hood. “Now, take a look at this engine…” Zach wandered back into the house. “Is he having a good time?” his mother asked. She was washing up after dinner, a curl of her graying hair hanging loose over her face. He rubbed her back. “I think he’s just relieved we made it here in one piece.” She nodded. “He seems like a very nice man.” “He is, Ma. I’m going to move in with him.” He hadn’t made up his mind until that moment, when the words came out. But saying the words out loud to his mother filled Zach with a tremulous sense of nervousness and excitement, the excitement outweighing everything else. His mother sighed. “You being careful, bubbeleh?” “Of course.” “You are wearing condoms, yes?” “Ma!” “You can get diseases, I hear. From a man’s petsy, if you don’t properly—”

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“Trust me, Ma. I got it covered.” “Okay, then.” Zach, mortified, walked back to rescue Austin. But he wasn’t in the garage anymore. He found Austin outside on the balcony of the house, taking in the snowfall over the fields surrounding Gun Barrel. He looked lost and beautiful, Zach thought. And he looked like the man Zach wanted to grow old with. He moved to open the sliding door to the balcony, but his grandmother reached Austin first. She handed him a refill of the wine. Austin looked uncomfortable. “Baaach,” Zach’s grandmother said in a throaty, guttural voice. Austin remained quiet. Zach nearly laughed, seeing his awkwardness. “The Broncos are going to kick your ass!” she cackled at Austin. Austin narrowed his eyes. “What?” “Goddamn Seahawks! I don’t care what the hell your new coach thinks he’s got going. You are all going down next weekend, and I will weep tears of blood before the Seahawks ever make it to the Super Bowl.” Austin snorted, his affront clearly outweighing his surprise. “Bullshit, Grandma.” “What kind of team has neon green as one of their colors?” Austin jerked back as if slapped. “Are you kidding me? You’ve lived here a few months, and you became a Broncos fan?” He looked repulsed. “I like teams with balls!” Bubbie cried. “Doesn’t matter how long an old lady lives in Seattle, doesn’t mean she’s ever going to be a twelfth man. I was a Steelers fan, even before the time of the Terrible Towel. Now I’m a proud Broncos fan. Everyone else just fills up the schedule.”

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Austin scoffed. “Oh yeah? Well, good luck. Any team that thinks it’s a good idea to get rid of Jay Cutler for a Bears quarterback, of all things, is going to need all the help it can get!” “Bleacchhh!” “Besides, the Hawks already made it to the Super Bowl once. We can do it again.” “Yeah, but you didn’t win, and you never will!” Austin snorted and raised his glass. Bubbie raised hers, and the two toasted. “To our sweet, assured victory.” He smiled. “Go Hawks!” “May your whole team burn in a fiery crash!” Bubbie clinked his glass.

*** With dishes washed, wine drunk, snow falling again outside, Zach and Austin said good night and made their way downstairs. Their flight was the following morning, and although Zach was sad his time with his family had been reduced to one short evening, he was still excited about going home. “Hey,” he whispered once Austin joined him in bed. It was a double-size mattress and barely fit one of them comfortably, let alone two. But Zach positioned himself closely alongside Austin’s body to make it work. Austin looked tired, eyes closed. He pulled Zach closer and gave him a lazy kiss. “Yeah?” “When we get back to Seattle, let’s look for a condo together.” Austin’s eyes shot open. “What? You serious?” He grinned. Zach grinned back. “Yeah. Nothing too far from Capitol Hill. I like the neighborhood.” “Maybe something on First Hill so I could walk to work.” “That would be convenient.” Austin smiled widely. “Wow. I’m not sure you’re serious. That wine must have gone to your head.”

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Zach laughed. “I’ve been thinking about it the entire road trip.” “Yeah? What made you change your mind?” “You.” “What part of me? My crowbar wielding? My throbbing dick? My expert driving skills?” “The whole package.” Zach reached for Austin, and Austin came to him, curled around him tightly. Zach intended to discuss their move further, but then Austin kissed him, and he realized everything else could wait. For now there was just this—the two of them silent as mice, moving in hot, tight confines of the guest bed. They kissed until Zach’s cock rubbed painfully against his trousers, and he could feel the rhythmic thrust of Austin’s groin against his leg. Zach stripped his clothes and then returned to the bed, crawling on all fours. He remained on his hands and knees, wordlessly explaining his desire. He heard Austin’s breath catch but didn’t look as Austin fumbled for something in his bag. Austin’s breathing changed, grew heavier, more labored, and Zach heard the rustle of Austin’s clothes drop to the floor, felt his weight sink the mattress as he crawled behind. Zach’s parents were at the top floor, so it was unlikely they’d hear anything in the basement, yet Zach and Austin instinctively moved in silence. Austin reached between Zach’s legs. He slid his fingers, slick with gel, down Zach’s crevice and pushed inside. With his other hand, he reached lower and gently squeezed Zach’s dangling testicles. Zach pushed back, and his ass made contact with Austin’s thighs. The hulking presence of Austin’s strong body behind him, out of sight, but everywhere by touch, excited Zach to such a degree he felt the first urgings of orgasm swell from the base of his cock. He pushed back again, this time feeling the stiff urgency of Austin’s

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cock, his balls heavy and warm, catching on the heated flesh of Zach’s ass, then slicking past the oil. Austin gripped Zach’s hip, holding him steady. He fed his cock deep into Zach, each inch thick and expansive, and Zach forced himself to breathe out, breathe back in, make room. Austin’s penetration went on, it seemed endless, and then he gave a small thrust. They both paused, breathing heavily, once again getting used to the feeling of being connected by their most intimate parts. They were one, coiled together, flesh opening and expanding to each other’s needs. “Go deeper,” Zach whispered, his voice ragged. Austin held Zach’s hips steady and began to fuck him hard. The slap of skin, the sound of hushed breathing—it was raunchy and delicious, the sensation increasing as Austin lifted on his toes and changed his angle, his cock ramming thickly into Zach, slick lube making the slide smooth, encouraging him ever deeper. Zach felt as though Austin’s cock penetrated straight through the core of him. He glanced down between his arms at the delectable image of his own cock, engorged with need, his balls slapping backward, nearly touching Austin’s. Zach steadied his weight on one arm and reached under himself to fondle Austin’s balls together with his. They simultaneously moaned with the keen pleasure of such illicit touch, soft sac against sac, rolling in Zach’s palm. Zach had to go back to supporting himself with both hands as the pounding quickened, his ass open wide, taking all of Austin in, and he knew Austin saw this, liked this, Zach’s body so exposed, so ready for him. Austin pressed his hand down on Zach’s lower back, grinding Zach onto his cock. Zach needed his own cock touched badly now. He keened for it, and Austin understood his wordless craving. He circled his arm around Zach and stroked Zach’s shaft, timing the pumps with each thrust. Zach’s release started slow, a crawling ecstasy that exponentially increased, and he muffled his cry on his arm, biting down. His ass clenched tight, pulsing along with the large cock inside him, and Austin quietly came as well, spreading

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Zach’s cheeks as he shoved fully in and released. Zach felt the swell of liquid, each pulse of Austin’s trembling prick. As soon as Austin pulled out, Zach collapsed flat on the bed, arms exhausted from holding him up through such a pounding. Every nerve still tingled. Austin dipped his thumbs into Zach’s ass, both fitting easily inside, and he slicked the gel there. “I love the look of you like this,” Austin whispered. “What does it look like?” Zach mumbled, closing his eyes. “Like you just got fucked by a baseball bat.” Zach laughed into the pillow. “A little egotistical, but I’ll let it slide.” Zach turned slightly to watch, smiling at the entranced look on Austin’s face as he fingered Zach’s hole. “I think I could fist you like this, you’re so wide right now.” The wonder in Austin’s voice nearly made Zach laugh again. “Better not. I’d definitely shout from that, and Mom and Dad may hear.” Austin pulled his fingers from Zach and laughed as well. “Yeah, we’ll save that for a special occasion.” “A housewarming present for me, maybe?” Zach suggested. Austin’s eyes were bright. “Definitely.” He kissed Zach. “It’s weird how sleeping in your parents’ house makes you all kinky.” Zach laughed, then groaned as he forced himself out of bed. He helped Austin up, and they both showered in the guest bathroom. It was so spotless, Zach wondered if they were the first people to ever use it. Back in the narrow bed, Zach assumed Austin fell asleep the second his head hit the pillow. But minutes after they’d turned off the lights and pulled up the sheets, Austin turned and spoke, his lips right next to Zach’s ear. “I like your family. They seem genuinely nice to me. And they clearly adore you to death.”

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“Bubbie really likes you,” Zach said. “That’s a good sign.” “Yeah. Your Bubbie.” Austin sighed. “Too bad she became a Broncos fan. Otherwise I could have really grown to love her.”

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Epilogue Thursday, December 9

Denver International Airport bustled with activity as all eastbound flights were canceled due to poor weather and stranded travelers struggled to make arrangements to stay in the city. Luckily, flights heading west were on schedule, and Austin felt high as a kite, not a care in the world. He sat in the food court of the departures terminal, enjoying the coffee in his hands and the company he kept. Zach looked amazingly refreshed and healthy, given the ordeal of their last week. The bruises were still livid on the side of his face, but his nose was no longer swollen, and he was back to looking almost pretty with his long lashes and dark eyes. They made eye contact, and Zach laughed. “What?” Austin asked, smiling back. “You look like a little kid the way you’re clutching that iPod.” Austin grinned down at his right hand, where he cradled the new iPod Zach had bought him that morning as his Hanukkah gift. It didn’t have any music on it yet, but it did come with a free movie, which would make the short flight to Seattle pass easily. “Thank you again,” Austin said. “But I told you, you didn’t have to buy me this.”

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Zach shrugged. “It’s the least we could do. And I say we because Bubbie paid for half. She was annoyed I couldn’t convince you to be reimbursed for the repair expenses, and so it was either this or a Broncos football.” Their flight was announced, so they finished their coffees and made their way to the gate. As they walked past a newsstand, Austin noticed the headline in the paper about David Magnusson and, for a moment, considered buying a copy of the paper as a memento of the occasion. But then he remembered Zach’s desire to leave the past behind, so he walked past it quickly, hurrying to catch up with Zach. He put his arm through Zach’s, who took it openly. “I like your family,” Austin said. “And I’ll come back for Hanukkah with you next year.” “You will?” Zach asked excitedly. Austin nodded. “On one condition: we fly.”

Loose Id Titles by Astrid Amara A Policy of Lies Carol of the Bellskis Holiday Outing Intimate Traitors Love Ahead: Expect Delays The Valde: Water “Next of Kin” Part of the anthology Hell Cop With Nicole Kimberling and Ginn Hale “Trust Me” Part of the anthology Hell Cop 2 With Nicole Kimberling and Ginn Hale

Astrid Amara Astrid Amara is the author of several gay science fiction/fantasy titles including the 2008 Lambda Literary Award Finalist novel, The Archer's Heart. She has lived in Maidenhead, England, Jerusalem, Israel, and Bukhara Uzbekistan but decided to settle in Bellingham, Washington because the rain improves her complexion.