Neon Rush {M/M} ❀

Ch. 9.1 Closest to a Confession

Zef experiences a white out. A momentary lapse in his own ability to process thought. "Huh?!"

Gray repeats, "Someone's been tracking you. Probably to get to me."

Tracking...

Zef recalls a conversation held in a sterile, soundproof fishbowl. Rylan Archer tapped her nails and talked about Zef's true upbringing, his father's disability. Now he has the answer to how she found out. He regards the bloody implant cracked on the concrete between them with a sick twist in his stomach.

So Rylan had more than one purpose for giving him that implant. The upside is it doesn't seem Gray knows how Zef intended to use it.

"You got any clue who put this on you?" Gray says.

Zef hates lying. Can't stand it. Makes him feel like mouldy bread. Bitter. Was never much good at it, either. But he can't tell Gray the truth. Yeah. My boss. She wants you locked up, and she sent me to do the honours. He can already picture the nuclear fallout of that statement. Gray would never speak to him again. He'd never see Gray again.

Which is feeling more and more like the worst case scenario over failing to do Rylan's bidding.

"I promise you, I got no idea where that came from."

Gray scrapes a hand through his hair, leaving it a mess. More than usual. His agitation seems blunt. Deadened. Just not himself. The lights in his tattoos flicker like he's testing them. Making sure he still has that ace up his sleeve. "Any recollection of something suspicious? Anyone offering you gloves, a free sample, something that could have been used to plant it on you?"

Zef pretends to scrub through his memory, shaking his head. "I mean, that could be— Fuck, it could've been on the faucet of my sink or my front door, for all I know. That woman with the tattoos was right outside my apartment."

Gray's alarm goes through the roof. "You serious? Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because I thought you sent them," Zef says. "They've got the same tech as you, and I didn't know until tonight that you'd defected from CyberSuite! What was I supposed to think?"

"You were supposed to trust me," Gray shouts.

Zef's insides twinge with guilt. Rule number two. Don't trust anyone you wouldn't take home. It's not like Gray gives off Mr. Rogers vibes. Not like it would have been sensible for Zef to trust him.

Still...right now, it seems like his rules landed him in more trouble rather than less.

Gray shifts like a caged animal, chewing his lip. "You should come back with me tonight."

Zef's impulsive responses are cut straight down the middle between no thoughts, only hot man inviting me for a sleepover and this is a really really terrible idea that will lose you your job and maybe your life, followed up by the only response he says outloud, which is,

"You have a house?"

Gray rubs his nose, almost sheepish. "Not really, but you'd be safer with me."

Okay. That's...interesting. "I— can't. I have work tomorrow, and those goons didn't do anything to me in the past, so—"

Gray's fist connects with the brick and mortar over Zef's shoulder. "Dammit, Zef, don't you fucking get it? They got plants outside your door, they know where you live, and they know where you've been ever since they planted that bug on you. You ain't safe there no more!"

The punch probably hurt, which shouldn't be Zef's first thought, but his brains are chicken noodle soup right now. Scrambling to make sense of the threats which now seem to be coming from every angle.