Feel My Pain (Curse Bound 1)

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck you, Roach!”

*

Two hours later, Zane was still at the bar, even though he’d done a decent enough job of the cleanup long ago. The thought of going back to the room he shared with Roach glued him to the chair. If they weren’t cursed, he would have taken a few things and hitchhiked the fuck out of Grit.

His phone buzzed, but he ignored the incoming message, expecting it was only Roach telling him to get lost. But when a few minutes later, the phone actually rang, Zane lost his patience.

“What?” he roared, squeezing the cell so hard it gave a little creak, but hey, if it got damaged, then maybe Roach could never call him again.

“Zane…” Gale? “I’m sorry to call at this time, but I saw the light on at the bar. You still there? I just… Reed fell asleep here. He’s really drunk. I don’t know if he lost his keys or what…”

Zane rubbed his forehead, fighting off the dull sense of failure deep inside. He’d have one hell of a hangover tomorrow. They both would. “Oh?”

“Do you—I mean, do you want him to stay here? I’m worried about him. Could you maybe bring an extra blanket?”

In an ideal world, Zane wouldn’t ever see Roach again and wipe his existence from memory. But the truth was that Roach was his problem, and for as long as their health remained tied, he had no other choice but to make sure Roach didn’t accidentally choke on his own vomit.

“No, I—uh, I’ll come get him. Sorry.”

For a brief moment, he considered the fact that their bond seemed to be less intense the farther they were from each other. If he left for Siberia right now, maybe he’d survive Roach’s death.

But he couldn’t take that risk, and the idea was misguided anyway, because he didn’t have a passport, so he dragged himself up, locked the bar, and went straight to Gale’s, because the sooner he sorted this out the better.

He didn’t feel like himself anymore when he knocked on the door, staring at it in hope that Gale had fallen asleep and wouldn’t open. But he did.

This wasn’t Zane’s night.

Gale’s room was even smaller than the one Zane shared with Roach, and held no secrets. Roach lay on the bed with his back to the door, and nausea rose in Zane’s throat the moment he entered.

“Is he okay? I haven’t seen him drink this much in a while,” Gale whispered, crossing his arms on his narrow chest. Was there accusation on his voice?

“Nah, he just overdid it,” Zane lied, because there was no point in dragging Gale into their mess. He stood by the bed, his gaze swiping over the body he’d hugged only hours back. Now, he wasn’t sure whether he wanted to touch Roach.

“He said he’d go back, but then fell asleep. He’s too big for me to move, but maybe I could help?” Gale asked and rubbed his eyes.

“Roach, wakey, wakey,” Zane said, raising his voice as he shook Roach by the arm.

A throaty groan was all he got in answer. Roach wouldn’t open his eyes, so Zane gritted his teeth as another wave of nausea rose up his throat. The fucker smelled like a distillery.

“Come on, come on, come on. Time to go home,” Zane said, pulling Roach’s arm over his shoulders and dragging him upwards. Their room wasn’t far. He could make it.

Roach’s eyelids fluttered when Zane pulled him up. His legs were jelly, but he was waking up… ish. “Mm… home,” he mumbled, and Zane, who barely kept the drunk idiot upright, realized he had no idea how he’d ended up in this position.

No, he did have an idea: he was a stupid, naive fucker who got cheated by a promise of a meaningful connection by someone who’d intended to betray him all along.

It didn’t matter anymore. He’d be a man about it and bear everything life threw his way for as long as it was necessary.

“Goodnight,” he told Gale, straining under Roach’s weight as he walked him to the door.

“Don’t wanna go,” Roach complained, heavy arm arm hooked around Zane’s neck.

He squeezed Zane harder with a grunt, then gagged… and threw up over Zane’s arm and hair. To make this disgusting turn of events worse, the nausea in Zane’s throat hit its peak, and all the bitter alcohol and bile came up. He puked down his own chin and torso.

Gale made a little sound, covering his mouth, but all Zane had for him was a sorry. He did not have the brain capacity to deal with this. Not screaming was all he could focus on.

He breathed through his nose, trying to ignore the scent of vomit and dragged Roach past the threshold.

Roach did follow his lead despite his feet moving in a variety of directions. Walking him to their room offered Zane plenty of time to ponder his life choices, but at the end of the trek, he still ended up unsure whether he deserved this. He wasn’t the worst of people. Sure, he had faults, but everyone did. So why had fate punished him so hard?