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Police Investigating Suspected Homicide of Harold King.
Zach scanned the articles in disbelief. Hal was dead — brutally murdered in his own home. The details were sparse, but words jumped out: "signs of struggle", "severe trauma", "homicide".
Hal was dead.
Zach's mind reeled. He fell back on his mattress, his eyes wide but unseeing.
The man who had degraded and exploited him since he was a vulnerable teenager was gone. He should have felt relieved, vindicated even.
But instead, he just felt numb. Hal had been an oppressive, miserable part of his life for so long. And now he was just… gone. Just like that.
It felt… unsatisfying. That something so major to Zach's life could be erased, just like that…
He could only hope that it had been satisfying to the man who had done it.
Zach thought of Wyatt, a man he barely knew — yet who seemed to be more considerate of him than anyone else he'd met. A man with the hands of a killer. A man who could have hurt Zach easily, but who had let him feel safe.
Who had done this for him.
Belatedly, Zach realized his hands were shaking. He didn't know how to feel. Hal deserved what he got — of that, Zach wasdamnsure. But the reality of it was almost too much to grasp.
In the end though, one emotion rose above the rest.
Gratitude.
However twisted it might be, Zach felt grateful to Wyatt. The man had removed Hal from Zach's life forever. He had done what Zach wished he could have done himself so many times, if he only had the guts. Zach knew he should be afraid of Wyatt now, too. But all he felt was a bone-deep sense of relief.
Hal was gone.
And Zach was free.
His heart pounding wildly, Zach raced out of his dingy apartment, down the stairs, and out into the world. He jumped in his beat-up car and peeled out of the parking lot, tires squealing as he sped through the streets.
He screeched to a halt outside Wyatt's building, throwing the car into park haphazardly. Zach burst from the vehicle and ran up to Wyatt's door, pounding urgently on the solid wood. "Hey!"
After a tense moment, the door swung open, revealing Wyatt's imposing figure filling the doorway. Wyatt's eyes widened fractionally at the sight of the disheveled young man on his doorstep.
But before he could speak, Zach blurted out in disbelief, "You really did that? For me?"
Wyatt's expression was stoic, but his eyes blazed with intensity. He gave a single nod of confirmation.
Zach let out a choked sound, overwhelmed. Without thinking, he grabbed Wyatt's shirt and yanked him down into a desperate kiss. Wyatt stiffened in surprise before wrapping his muscular arms around Zach and pulling him close, returning the kiss hungrily.
Zach clung to Wyatt, the solid strength of the older man's body grounding him amidst the chaos of his emotions. Zach had never let someone get this close before, had never trusted anyone enough to be vulnerable with his feelings — let alone the knowledge of the monster preying on him.
But Wyatt had proven he would protect Zach, even kill for him. Zach finally felt safe here in Wyatt's embrace.
It was messed up. But so was he.
They broke apart, breathing heavily. Wyatt's eyes searched Zach's wordlessly. Zach knew Wyatt could see the mess of gratitude, desire, and bone-deep relief swirling within him.
"Thanks," Zach rasped, his voice raw.
Wyatt cupped Zach's face with one large hand. "Glad to help," he said solemnly.
Zach's heart pounded. He knew Wyatt meant it. He pulled Wyatt into another searing kiss, pouring all of his chaotic emotions into the press of their mouths. Wyatt held him close, kissing him deeply, and Zach felt safe, protected, and cared for in a way he never had before.
Wyatt tugged them into his place and shut the door, closing them off from the world outside. Zach moaned into Wyatt's mouth as the older man kissed him fiercely, his tongue hot and demanding. Zach could feel Wyatt's erection pressing insistently against his hip as their bodies molded together. He ground his own rapidly hardening length against Wyatt's muscular thigh, desperate for more contact.
