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)
I don’t love you, I never loved you, and I never will.
A truth that made him both angry and sorrowful. They’d never said the words, but love had hung between them in those past weeks like sweet perfume, intangible yet easy to pick up on. It couldn’t have only been Roach’s imagination. When Zane held him close and whispered ‘Roachie’ to him, love was there with them.
Roach sniffed and drank more to numb the pain, but nothing helped. He sat on the edge of the sofa, which had been eaten by both fire and rot, and didn’t even flinch when a few cockroaches skittered from under it. He should have died here, yet just like the roach that he was, he’d survived.
But for what?
Once Zane found Mad Madge and got her to take back the curse, Roach’s life would be over whether Zane decided to spare him or not. A life without him would have been empty, devoid of meaning. Worthless.
He’d do anything to keep Zane with him, no matter how toxic that was. Even if Zane didn’t love him. Even if Zane hated him.
They should be together. Always. Forever. Whether Zane wanted it or not.
Roach took another gulp of bourbon and looked up at a beam bared by the fire. Blackened by soot, it was still in its place, thick and solid.
His heartbeat picked up as he leaned forward, almost hearing it invite him close, reach out for him with invisible arms. If he wanted to keep Zane, there wasn’t much time left.
Roach’s brain was a hot, bubbling mess by the time he returned from his bike, cradling a bundle of rope to his chest. He grabbed a chair on the way. It still had four legs and seemed sturdy enough. He didn’t need to think anymore. He didn’t have to suffer.
As long as he went through with his plan, Zane would be back. And they would never part.
He was not trash. He’d given Zane his heart, and he’d gladly give his life for him as well. Zane would not steal that from Roach or himself. They belonged together.
Roach threw the rope over the beam and stood on the chair, fighting a sob as the wooden seat wiggled under him with a nasty creak.
I don’t love you, I never loved you, and I never will.
He let go and allowed himself to cry hot tears as he tied the cord that would steal the breath out of both their lungs.
Chapter 26 – Zane
The choking sensation squeezed Zane’s throat, gullet, and went all the way to his heart. Breathing was difficult, but the cool air kept him awake as he marched along the asphalt, struggling to keep the hood on as wind kept ripping it off his head.
It was time to end his torture and spit out unwanted feelings towards a man whose actions didn’t align with his words. He was done wondering why Roach couldn’t be honest with him. As strong as his feelings had gotten, Roach wasn’t good for him. He’d always be a reminder of what had happened that night. Zane was ready to cut the invisible cord keeping them together, no matter how painful that would prove.
The entrance to the large trailer park loomed in the distance. He didn’t know where exactly Mad Madge lived, but had no doubt anyone he asked could point him in the right direction. His recollection of what she’d done that night was vague, but it made sense that she’d be the one to cast some insane curse.
His heart was a frozen rock, and then every now and again, he’d get sudden palpitations that made him wonder where Roach was and what he was doing.
A truck blaring loud techno music drove past him, and for a moment Zane thought the driver had tossed something his way, because pain hit him at such force he dropped to his knees, fighting for breath as he clutched at his neck, shocked to find his Adam’s apple sunken, blocking the air flow.
Panic was a wild animal thrashing in his chest, and he crawled forward, ignoring the snow soaking through his jeans as he tried to scream.
Only a wheeze came out as black spots started a dance in front of his eyes. They expanded, taking over his vision until he could barely see the landscape.
He couldn’t breathe.
He gasped for air, his face hot and wet, hair soaked and dripping. Someone held his hair in a strong grip, and was yelling, but his ears rang as if he’d been hit on the head, so he couldn’t recognize the words.
Before he knew it, the hand pushed him down, and a bathtub full of dirty water sped his way. He managed to inhale a gulp of air, but then his mouth filled with liquid. He grabbed the edges of the tub, but his strength was nothing in comparison to whoever was holding him down.