Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 121990 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 610(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121990 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 610(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
Zane slammed both hands on the desktop, and when the little plastic car trembled, Culver sucked in air as if this were a Sci-Fi movie and he was about to toss him outside with a single swing of his hand. But the toy stayed put, and he ended up swallowing his rage as he leaned back.
“He’s got a fever. Seriously, can’t you give him a break? You’re already paying him peanuts,” Zane hissed, trying to even out his breathing as fury buzzed deep inside.
Culver raised his hands in mock-defeat his lips twitching under the salt-and-ginger moustache. “Oh, I’m so sorry I’m giving you a job. Last time we spoke, you said you needed more hours.”
Roach pulled on Zane’s arm to pry him away from the desk, which was painfully easy when Zane’s head was so heavy and hot. “I do, it’s fine. It’s not like the window is gonna catch my germs.”
Unbelievable.
Zane pulled out his wallet, staring back at Culver, who had the nerve to smirk. “If you’re so cheap, I’ll pay you for hiring someone else, so he can rest tonight!”
“Zane. No.” Roach stopped him before Zane could have pulled out some bills. “We need all the money we can get right now. I’m as strong as on ox. This is fine.”
Only that it wasn’t, and they both knew it.
Culver sighed. “So what will it be? Just go wait for him in bed if you’re both that ill. That’s your job after all, isn’t it?”
Zane saw red, but Roach beat him to it. He leaned over the desk and grabbed Culver by the collar. “You think that just ‘cause I’m gay I turned into a pussycat? Don’t you dare speak to him like that. You want the damn window fixed or not?”
Oh-kay.
Zane could have dealt with this himself. He’d dealt with far worse than entitled old men who made humiliating jokes at his expense, but it felt good to have someone do it for him. Not because they thought he couldn’t handle it, but because they cared.
Roach cared. For him. And for Gale, and Zane, even when he surely knew Culver—the damn capitalist—was using their bad situation to his advantage. That was what irked Zane most—this inability to help Roach and protect him from something. But maybe if he worked more hours, Roach could take a bit of a break and rest?
“That weekday waiter job you mentioned. I’ll take it. I’ve always done well on Saturdays.”
Culver stared at him for a moment, his lips still pursed after Roach let him go. “You two are testing my patience today. Seriously? Even if I wasn’t pissed off, you can’t work there right now. You’d be seasoning everyone’s food with germs, and The Diner prides itself on the highest food standards.”
It didn’t. Zane had been in the kitchen and knew which dishes off the menu were best avoided. But he bit his tongue for once, and it worked, because Culver spoke again once he readjusted his wrinkled collar.
“Talk to me next week.”
Zane always had a hard time swallowing his pride, but he’d do it this one time, because Roach deserved his help. He couldn’t be expected to carry the weight of the world for three people. And together they might have the chance to help Gale back on his feet.
And maybe Zane could have some extra cash to send his parents, because there was hardly any left once Roach covered all the bills.
“Okay. Thanks.”
They left the office with a key to the room where the window needed replacing, but Roach wouldn’t look at him, and the silence stretched between them even when they went home to grab some tools.
Unease clutched at Zane’s throat as he watched Roach’s back, because for once he didn’t dare try to face him, unsure whether he should be proud or ashamed of himself. What the hell was wrong with him? Two years ago, Roach had done a terrible thing, but for the past... almost three months now Roach had supported Zane, toiling away every single day.
And it struck Zane that maybe he hadn’t been fair.
Maybe he’d been a horrible person to Roach, who tried to mend the irreversible past as best he could.
Was he even a good person?
“I’m sorry. I’m just worried.”
Roach stilled and took a deep breath but broke into a cough as soon as he tried to speak. “I’m doing my best, okay? You don’t have to point out how little I earn,” he said, preoccupied with the open drawer
“That’s what you’re taking away from this? Roachie, you’re literally working twelve hours a day, sometimes more. Culver’s to blame, because he knows you’re helping Gale out and he’s using that against you,” Zane said, walking up to him to bury his face in the warm back of his jacket.
Some of the tension unwound in Roach’s shoulders. “I just… I wish I had more to offer you.”