The hospital looked familiar, as if he’d left it only yesterday. The trash can by the nurse station still had a clown sticker, though its colors had faded.
He got the two coffees and bought a total of three chocolate bars, because the machine refused to give him any more for the change he kept putting in, but instead of heading back to Roach and his sweet consideration, he stopped in a dusky corner close to a maintenance room, where someone passing by might not notice his presence.
He didn’t know what to do.
He hated hospitals. Why was he back here? He should have left Roach here and gone back to the motel. It wasn’t as if Zane’s presence helped Gale’s recovery in any way.
“Zane, was it?” A soft female voice asked, pulling him out of his misery and into yet more horror. He knew her. He knew her, and she knew him in more detail than some of his sexual partners.
Zane froze, catching himself before his hands squeezed into fists and squashed the cardboard cups of scalding hot beverage in the process. His scars ached under the leather bracelets as if they were once again raw and had been sprinkled with salt.
“Who?”
The nurse gave him a brilliantly white smile, pressing a folder to her chest, dressed in pink scrubs, which might have been the same she’d worn when they first met. “You don’t remember me? I was there… over two years ago. I’m so happy to see you well. I barely recognized you.”
No. No. No. No.
Lightheaded, he wished he could send her to the devil’s ass, but she was kind, just as she had been back then too, so he shut up, shrugging, because he couldn’t find his voice. His entire body ached with echoes of past suffering, and his eyes stung as if he were a baby and couldn’t keep his emotions in check.
He didn’t want to be here.
“I’m fine.”
“I didn’t think I’d see you again when they transferred you to Georgia. You came in on one of my first shifts at this hospital. God bless that I could be there.” She squeezed Zane’s arm, but he didn’t want to be the person she remembered him as and froze, unsure how to react.
His heart shrunk when Roach’s tall, sturdy form approached down the corridor. The thick brows rose when he spotted Zane, leaving him no way out of the upcoming crash.
Zane stepped away from the nurse’s touch. “I hope you have a good shift. I got to go,” he said, because he could not discuss any of this with Roach present.
She nodded, still smiling. “Oh, sure. I’m just so happy to see you recovered. Those men were savages. Don’t quote me on it, but good riddance,” she said and walked off, leaving Zane with echoes of the past hurting like real-life burns.
“I was wondering if you got lost or something,” Roach said, stepping closer with his hands in his pockets. “Was that about—?”
“What? Gale?” Zane asked, pushing one of his hands forward so fast the hot coffee spilled down his fingers, stinging like a cut. “Fuck.”
Roach hissed and waved with his hand, mirroring Zane’s reflex, but grabbed the coffee with his other hand. “No, the nurse. Did she treat you after the… you know?”
Zane shook his head, his stomach twisting as if he were about to be sick. “How would I know? It’s been a long time. I barely remember any of it anymore,” he lied, walking off toward Gale’s room. But Roach kept watching him, his hot gaze prickling Zane’s nape over and over as if he too wanted to mark him with a burn.
Nothing’s changed since half an hour ago, yet hearing Roach’s confessions made everything feel different. He shouldn’t have eavesdropped.
“You never answered me, actually. Are those circular marks from back then?” Roach stroked the back of Zane’s shoulder, making him wish he wore the wintery layers of fabric and leather, so he wouldn’t feel the touch.
The corridor seemed narrow now, slightly crooked, as if it were rotating at the slowest pace imaginable. He could sense his own pulse in his throat, and all the circles on his back burned as if he’d been stung by a swarm of hornets. He ignored the question and shrugged off Roach’s hand, speeding up toward Gale’s room. He wished to just leave. To forget his revenge and hitchhike the fuck out of this fucking town.
But Roach wouldn’t give it a rest even once they returned to Gale’s side. “Did you have to stay here for a long time? I—I get it you know? I’ve been through shit too.”
The other cup flew at Roach before Zane could think twice, and the burning, dark liquid soaked through the front of Roach’s T-shirt, causing a sting Zane could feel too. But when compared to Zane’s emotional agony, it was a pleasant distraction.