And there he was, folded in half behind the open door, Gale seemed tiny, like an emaciated teenager in boxer shorts and a tank top borrowed from an older brother.
He seemed conscious when he made the softest grunt and looked up at them, but nothing about his laborious wheeze sounded fine to Roach.
“Shit,” Zane said, falling to his knees at the same time as Roach, his sour expression replaced by pallor that could not rival the blue undertone of Gale’s flesh. The boy looked as if he wasn’t getting enough oxygen and was on the verge of passing out.
“I’ll call an ambulance,” Zane whispered, staring back at Roach. He bolted for the old phone by the bed without waiting for an answer.
“No! It will take forever, let’s take the van.” Roach’s heart beat so fast he couldn’t hear his own thoughts, but if he was to save Gale, he couldn’t panic.
He picked Gale up, but the pale eyes, with pupils so tiny Roach barely noticed them, no longer focused on anything. It was like holding a child. Bony and so light Roach had no problem whatsoever to lift him, Gale was the embodiment of Roach’s guilt. He’d neglected Gale since Zane had come into his life, and no longer had any time for him when he should have come by more often and checked on him. Gale wasn’t even out of his teens yet.
“It’s gonna be okay, we’ll get you to the hospital,” he whispered, breathless when Zane rushed to the door and kept it open for him.
“What did you take, Gale?” Zane demanded, but Gale’s eyes were shut, and his breathing so faint Roach was starting to fear the worst.
“I—I don't know what he could have had,” Roach uttered, speeding to the door, past a tourist carrying a backpack.
“‘Cause it sure as hell doesn’t look like he’d taken crack this time,” Zane shouted, running downstairs at top speed, like an icebreaker to ease Roach’s way.
“Will you drive?” Roach asked, unwilling to let go of Gale in what could be his last minutes in this world.
Zane looked back, his locks dancing on his back as he jogged. “I’ll get you there.”
Chapter 18 – Zane
Zane couldn’t stop thinking about the way Roach had held Gale—as if the junkie hooker was a baby bird with a broken wing. He had felt the echo of Roach’s pain in his heart, and he could no longer see Gale as a threat—a conniving little snake out to get his man.
The truth was that the boy was nineteen, on his own, an addict, and had no one other than Roach to call a friend. Of course he’d be jealous and scared over Roach getting a boyfriend. Zane should have seen the snippy comments for what they’d been—insecurity. He was a grown-ass man of almost thirty, and had had a meltdown over Roach being nice to a kid.
What the fuck was wrong with him?
After tense hours in the waiting room, Gale’s condition stabilized enough that they’d been allowed into his room, and with the immediate threat to Gale’s life gone, Zane was feeling the consequences of stress. The mild headache didn’t affect him as much as the unpleasant tension in his muscles, but he was relieved to slump in the uncomfortable chair regardless.
The machines monitoring Gale’s state kept beeping at a steady pace, and when Zane opened his eyes and saw the gray tint around Gale’s eyes, the guy’s youth hit him like a ton of bricks. Without the makeup or flashy clothes, Gale was just a sick kid who had no one to look out for him. Zane’s family proved that regardless what they thought of his lifestyle, they still had his back when it mattered, and he was so grateful that for a moment he longed to give them a call. But no, it was too late in the night for that.
“He’ll be okay,” Zane whispered, turning his head to stare at Roach, who watched Gale’s motionless form.
While Gale appeared even younger than he was, Roach had aged ten years tonight, his features heavy, with bags under his eyes, reddened whites and forehead in a permanent frown. The worst thing was that instead of finding it unattractive, it melted Zane’s heart to think that he now knew what Roach would look like in his forties.
“I hope so… I just feel like I failed him. I don’t have any family either, and I should have—” Roach sank forward, as if the weight of the world was on his shoulders.
In that moment, it struck Zane that he’d wish to take some of that burden off him. “You didn’t shoot heroin into his veins. He did this to himself.”
Roach nodded, and gently pulled Gale’s slim fingers into his hand. “I know. But I’ll still try to do better.”
Zane swallowed, because the tension expanding through his insides was starting to choke him. Roach was not a good guy even if right now they were stuck with each other and occasionally shared a nice time. Still, his hands were clammy, and he itched to lean closer, rest his head on Roach’s shoulder, and hug him.