Winter Solstice in St. Nacho's (St. Nacho's #5) - Z.A. Maxfield Page 0,12

throw. The smash of glass scattered them. “Your body’s so weak right now, a scratch from a feral cat could give you a lethal infection.”

He laughed at that. “Oh please.”

“I’m serious.”

“After the things I’ve done? No cat scratch is gonna take me out.”

“Better safe than sorry.” I turned to do another circuit of the motel. “Go again?”

“I need to lie down.” He wobbled like he was going to pass out. “I don’t feel so good.”

Lightheaded again. I draped his arm around my shoulder so I could help him back to the room. After unlocking the door, I walked him to his bed.

“I’ll ask housekeeping if we can have extra sheets and towels. My friend Katie will bring some other stuff.”

“Who’s Katie?” he asked. “Girlfriend?”

“No. She’s a friend from Galt, but we never really got to know each other until we met again in Santa Cruz.”

“You got someone special?”

“Nope.” I quoted A Christmas Carol, “I’m ‘as solitary as an oyster.’”

“Oysters are tasty.” He muttered before turning away. “You have to pry them open, but sometimes they even have pearls inside.”

I blinked. “That’s rather optimistic”

“I feel sick,” he said, and rolled out of bed. He retched on the way to the bathroom. The splatter I heard on the tile didn’t bode well.

Maybe I should ask Katie to bring me a flame-thrower.

Arson could only improve this motel.

Look at that; I found an upside to arson.

Was there an upside to addiction too? The awful sounds coming from the bath said no. How long could Tug’s frail body go on like this? Rejecting a poisonous substance was one thing. Fighting against his body’s need was something else entirely.

I could never have imagined this level of misery.

Tug turned the shower on. I breathed a sigh of relief because based on our earlier experience the worst was over for an hour or two.

If he could only sleep, I’d be ecstatic, but the symptoms kept coming, wave after wave, and he simply had to endure them.

I found him shivering in the tub again.

“Hey.”

He turned his head away.

“C’mon. Let’s get you dry and back into bed.”

“This sucks.”

“I know.” I held one of the cleaner towels out. “C’mon.”

He stood, and it was an effort to keep my eyes on his face. He might have been too thin, but his lean body was smooth and sleek, almost hairless except for his pits and the thatch above his cock. Even like this, he was good looking. There were marks on his hands and arms. A few more ominous scars on his legs and back. They did nothing to mar his beauty.

He stepped out, and I looked away while I wrapped the towel around him.

“You can look. Doesn’t matter to me.”

I felt like a total dick. “Sorry.”

“Why? I’m not shy.”

“I don’t want to be that guy.”

He nodded. “Whatever. Can I listen to Sherlock Holmes again?”

“Oh, yeah, sure.”

He put the ear buds in and closed his eyes while I started the app on my phone. It tickled me that he’d asked for the story. You could take the librarian out of the library and all that. It was dawn, and while I wasn’t scheduled to work the weekend, I had to call and tell Suzanne I couldn’t work on Monday either. I needed to tell her what was going on anyway, and knew she was an early riser. I called her home number.

“Hi, Suzanne. Sorry to call so early, but I wanted to let you know what’s happening.” Briefly, I told her I’d followed up on Thuong and wouldn’t be in on Monday.

“You okay?” she asked.

“Sure. I—”

“Because if you’re not okay, I’ve got the number of a great shrink.”

“I don’t need to see anyone. Things worked out.”

There was a pause before she spoke again. “What do you mean things worked out?”

I gave a nervous laugh. “I figure I’ll do what I can to help Thuong until he can go into rehab.”

“You what?” I heard Suzanne’s sharp intake of breath. “You’re going to do what?”

“Come on. I know him. I had to follow up after the… incident.” Instinct told me not to say overdose out loud. Suzanne liked to live in a world made of euphemisms. “My cousin Echo’s helping me get him into a recovery facility.”

“No, no, no. Luke, is that why you won’t be in on Monday?”

“Yeah. I’m driving him to a place Echo knows in Stockton.”

“You’re what? Okay.” She took what she called calming breaths and we—her employees—tended to refer to as the early warning system. “Okay, I know you care about

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