Neon Rush {M/M} ❀

Ch. 11.1 Basket of Baby Bunnies

Gray flicks the ember of his cigarette off the edge of the roof. It falls like the world's saddest Roman candle. A firework just for them.

Zef tries to summon the words. I was hired to hunt you down. I'm sorry. They blackmailed me. I can't do it, and I'm scared of what they're gonna do to me and my family, but I think I'm more scared of what they'd do to you if I go through with this.

Gray gives Zef's shoulder a nudge, derailing his thoughts. "Night's still young. I've got more for you. And I think this stuff'll be a winner. Turn that frown upside down."

Gray offers to help him off the roof ledge. Zef tentatively takes his hand, Gray's fingers solid and warm as he tugs him back towards the fire escape.

Later, Zef thinks. I'll tell him. Just not now. He planned this night, and you already sorta ruined it. Don't wreck the rest.

Miraculously, the bike is still where they left it. Gray drives them out of the slum he grew up in and onto the highway. They don't have to go far—a stone's throw South, and they turn off a ramp into a world so alien from the one they left behind Zef thinks he's been abducted.

Sprawling mansions hunker behind elaborately curling gates and carefully cultivated topiary, tall palm trees and glittering turquoise pools surrounded by zen gardens just visible through breaks in the gates.

"Gray, where the hell are you taking me?"

"You'll see."

"You don't need to tell me. This is Goldhill, isn't it?"

"The one and only."

Goldhill. The pinnacle to which all caps aspire. Only the most plush of off-shore accounts and egregious wealth hoarders could possibly afford it. Far enough removed from the smog of Neorleans proper, close enough to commute. Right on the oceanfront, high on artificially constructed hills so they could look down on the peons who made them their fortune.

Zef's practical side kicks him in the teeth with reproof. Of all places, they really shouldn't be here.

"I feel under-dressed."

Gray throws a sly smile over his shoulder. "I'm sure we can find something more appropriate to change into."

This does the opposite of reassuring Zef, but that sly smile is hard to resist.

They come to a stop outside a twelve-foot, golden gate that looks wrought to resemble the pearly gates to heaven. Beyond, a sweeping driveway is surrounded by lush gardens obscuring the view of the house. The road's dark and forbidding, but Gray rumbles right up to the gate and gives the security a once over before his tattoos glow, and the gates peel aside without a squeak of defiance.

Zef says, "Are we trespassing right now?"

"We're just borrowing someone's holiday home, darling."

"No one's home though, right?"

Gray twists the throttle, and they ease through the gates, which start closing behind them. Zef feels just a little trepidation.

"One way to find out," Gray says.

Okay, a lot of trepidation. "Gray. You checked, right? With your techie superpowers. No one's home. Right?"

The driveway curves round in a large arc. Neon blue spotlights turn on one by one along the edge of the road to guide them. Flowers blooming in the gardens smell sweeter than the sucrose-injected confectionary found at a fairground. Around the bend in the driveway, the gardens fall away to reveal a palatial McMansion in all its offensive glory. There's a pool in the front yard and, from the turquoise glow beyond, the backyard, too. The front doors are tall and ostentatious enough to admit royalty.