Free Finding Zach by Rowan Speedwell Page A

said angrily, wiping tears from his face. “Shit.” He slammed into the house, went to the kitchen, and turned on the little under-cabinet TV, switching channels until he found a loud, mindless game show to keep him distracted until his mother came home.
     

Chapter 5

     
     
    H E MANAGED to make it through dinner with Annie without breaking down. Afterwards, they watched a movie on HBO; then when Annie announced that she needed to get to bed, he said, “You go ahead. I’m still antsy. I think maybe I’ll take my new wheels out for a drive.”
    “Don’t drink,” Annie said automatically, then yawned.
    “Maximum one beer,” he promised. “I just need to reconnect with the old neighborhood. I won’t be late.”
    “You’re an adult, Davey,” she said, then dimpled. “Okay, that’s a bullshit line. You’re still my baby, so don’t be late, don’t talk to strangers….”
    “And I’ve got on clean underwear in case I fall off my bike and need to go to the hospital. Yeah, Mom, I know the routine.” He kissed her cheek. “It’s good to be home, Mom. Even if you’re a total whack job.”
    She smacked his butt. “What a way to talk to your mother. Go. Have fun. Don’t be late.”
    “I won’t, he said, and kissed her again.
     
     
    H E DROVE around for a while, seeing what was new and what had changed in his old stomping grounds. After an hour, that wasn’t helping anymore, so he pulled into a Wesley bar he used to hang out in occasionally. It looked pretty much the same—more or less a local pub, but friendly to the gay community in Wesley and the Springs. It didn’t have the little back rooms some of the more blatantly pick-up places did, but David had met a guy or two he’d liked here.
    It being a Wednesday, the lot wasn’t as full as it would have been on the weekend, but there were still more than a few cars parked there. Cars, and an amazingly hot-looking Ducati motorcycle. The sodium lights in the lot didn’t give a true impression of the color, but David thought it might be red. Wow, he thought, looking the bike over. He didn’t know much about motorcycles, but he knew that Ducatis were the top of the line, and kind of rare here in Harley country.
    He picked out the owner the minute he walked in. The guy stood with one foot on the brass rail, leaning forward on the polished black surface of the bar. He was tall; taller than David by a couple of inches, from what David could see. He paused a moment to admire the way the broad shoulders tapered into a lean waist, a taut, fuckable ass, and long legs in black denim. A black leather jacket was thrown on the barstool beside him. Ducati guy, David thought. Only a biker would wear leather in this weather.
    The guy had his hair buzzed, but what was there was thick and black as the T-shirt that stretched over those wide shoulders and muscled arms. There was something entirely too sexy about the way the shirt bagged loosely where it brushed the narrow waist of the jeans. The T-shirt and buzz cut left his neck bare, and David frowned as he came closer and saw the ridge of scar tissue that marred an otherwise perfect view. It looked like the guy had been strangled or something.
    Then he was standing at the bar next to the guy ordering a beer, and when he turned he saw the man’s profile, the strong jaw set and the face expressionless. “Holy shit,” he breathed. “ Zach ??”
    “Fuck off,” the man said, and took a drink of his Scotch.
    “Jesus, it is you,” David said. “Zach….”
    “What part of ‘fuck off’ don’t you understand, David ?” Zach replied, still looking straight ahead, still expressionless.
    “Zach, can we talk? Please?” Here it was, his chance to make amends, his chance to find out what was going on in Zach’s head. “I’ve been wanting to see you….”
    Zach’s eyes closed briefly, then he set his Scotch back down on the bar, picked up his jacket and turned to leave.
    David stepped in front of him. “No,