Touch&Geaux (12 page)

scrawled on it. It was a phone number and the name “Liam”

in smal , neat lettering.

Zane snorted. He remembered Liam’s hand at his hip. Had

the man pickpocketed him just to make an impression? He’d

certainly forced a memorable way of lighting his cigarette.

He’d stolen Zane’s lighter, then put it back with the number

around it. Impressive. And just a little flattering. Also creepy.

Zane glanced at Ty, smiling fondly as he thought about

just how riled his lover would get if he saw that note. Ty didn’t

consider jealousy a part of his emotional spectrum, but it sure

as hell was. Zane would always be more flattered by that than

a stranger’s number in his pocket. He balled it up and dropped

it and his jeans back to the floor. He’d smoke later.

He had to navigate his way through the tangle of

Sidewinder limbs on the floor to make it back to the bed. He

was a little annoyed that he wouldn’t be able to greet Ty in the

way he wanted, but he supposed he could sacrifice a morning

of groping for Ty to have some time with his friends. If they

ever woke up.

Kelly snorted in his sleep and tried to burrow his face into

Nick’s stomach, causing Nick to groan and push him away.

Neither man woke.

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Ty tossed onto his side, echoing the groan. Zane

recognized the signs of a nightmare. Sometimes Ty woke

disoriented and dangerous. Other times he woke shaken and

frightened. And sometimes he dreamt of pain.

Zane lay back down on his side and scooted close to

Ty, hoping he might be able to get him to rest a little more

without having to wake him up from the nightmare. He

placed his hand on Ty’s back and rubbed.

Ty groaned again, a louder, more pained sound as he

rolled back toward Zane. He gasped in a breath, as if surprised

that he’d woken, and blinked blearily at Zane.

Zane frowned. Ty was damp to the touch, more than he

would have expected even in the warm bed. “You okay?” he

whispered.

“I hurt,” Ty answered, hoarse and sleepy.

“Is it your back again?”

Ty nodded. He reached down to his side, his elbow

jabbing Zane in the stomach as he did so, and curled up again.

“Feels like you’ve been sleeping on top of me.”

“I was sleeping on top of you.” Zane slid his hand against

Ty’s forehead, surprised by how hot Ty felt against his warm

fingers.

Ty rolled onto his back again, gasping as if his pain had

spiked. He kept his knees bent, curled up as if it hurt him

to straighten out. He immediately rocked back to his side,

not able to stay still, then mumbled something as he slid out

of the bed and staggered toward the bathroom in the dark.

He tripped over one of the men on the floor and stumbled,

causing Nick to cry out and lurch to his feet, ready for battle.

Sort of. But Ty disappeared into the bathroom before Nick

had gained his bearings.

“What the hell just happened?” Nick demanded.

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“What is wrong with you gay people?” Kelly moaned, still

out of sight on the floor. “Why can’t you just sleep in?”

Nick looked down at him. “What?”

“Where am I?”

Zane sat up, torn between being amused and concerned.

He could hear Ty retching in the bathroom. He’d been with

Ty through allergic reactions, hangovers, and hospital stays,

but not an actual illness. Ty was too damn healthy for the flu.

Maybe it was something he ate. Like al igator. Or drank. Like

five hurricanes.

Zane had never seen Ty so hungover he was sick, though.

Nick ran a hand through his hair and sat on the end of the

bed. They could hear Ty in the bathroom, still throwing up.

“Is that Ty?” Nick asked.

Zane nodded. “He woke up sick.”

“Where am I?” Kelly asked again, sitting up.

After a few torturous minutes, Ty called out to them,

“Check under the pillows!”

“You okay?” Zane called back.

“No, just look under the pillows!”

“For what?” Zane asked as he glanced at Ty’s side of the

bed.“Gris-gris. Hex bags,” Ty answered, his voice laced with

pain. “Look all over the bed. Under the mattress. Little felt

bags!”

“You all right, buddy?” Nick asked. “Still drunk?”

“Shut up and help him!”

Zane snorted and shook his head. “Nutbar. I think we

would have noticed a little bag of crunchy things, as much as

we shook the mattress last night,” he said wryly.

“Oh God, please,” Kelly muttered. He raised a hand as if

to ward off the images.

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“Agreed,” Nick grunted.

Zane laughed, but he started a slow perusal of the bed.

Ty was muttering incoherently from the bathroom when

Zane found a small felt bag beneath Ty’s pillow, wedged

between the headboard and the mattress. He pulled it out

and straightened, looking at the little bag with a frown as he

reached over and flipped the lamp on.

“This isn’t good,” he muttered, turning it over in his hand

before squeezing it to try to get an idea of the contents. It

was roughly two inches by three, tied with a simple cord. It

felt like a tea bag, like there was something dry and shredded

inside. With a few hard chunks. It looked like the bag in the

dead girl’s hand from last night.

He heard Ty stumble, gasping for breath. He was

silhouetted by the light from the bathroom, bent over,

clutching his side. “What color is it?” He was completely

serious, as if the color of the bag would tell him anything at

al . He bypassed Kelly’s legs and lurched toward the bed.

Zane was starting to feel a little queasy too. “It’s red. Felt,

I think.”

“Wait, someone was in here?” Nick asked.

“Housekeeping. Had to be,” Zane said grimly. “I knew

those towels were folded wrong.”

Ty lowered his head, biting his lip as he hunched against

the wall beside the bed. “Take me to the hospital,” he said.

“And let me have the bag.”

“You don’t really think . . .” Zane let the words trail off and

shook his head. It didn’t matter. Ty definitely looked ill, and

Zane was more convinced by that than some fantasy about

voodoo curses. “All right. Can you get dressed?”

Ty nodded, but he didn’t actually seem to be listening.

He was still clutching his side when he snatched the bag

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out of Zane’s hand. He fumbled with the string that bound

the bag, and peered in. He didn’t have a chance to examine

the contents, though. He doubled over with a gasp, leaning

against the mattress as his knees started to fold.

Nick rolled over the corner of the bed to come to his side,

and Zane crawled over to put a hand on his shoulder.

His entire body was trembling, but he was taking deep

breaths, trying to fight through the obvious pain.

“Do we need to call an ambulance?” Kelly asked. He was

finally fully awake, though he looked almost as rough as Ty

did.“You’re the corpsman,” Nick grunted.

“Well, as a trained professional, I advise we call an

ambulance.”

“No,” Ty gasped. “Fuck the shirt, just get me to the ER.”

He let the bag go, leaving it on the bed.

Zane tugged his jeans on and grabbed the first shirt his

fingers touched, one of Ty’s T-shirts. He pulled it on as Nick

tried to help Ty into a button-up flannel. Zane grabbed his

wallet and Ty’s, then the felt bag, and nodded to Nick. “Time

to go.”

“I’ll help you get him into a cab,” Nick said. Ty threw an

arm over his shoulders. “Then I’ll get the boys and we’ll meet

you there.”

“Feels like my insides are being torn apart,” Ty groaned.

When they hit the lobby, it was relatively empty, but two

of the young bellhops soon took notice of them.

“Does he need help?” one of them asked Zane as they

came toward them.

“We’re going to the hospital,” Zane said, taking a lot of

Ty’s weight onto himself as Ty bent in pain. “We need a cab

or the hotel shuttle.”

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One of them turned to jog for the entryway and hail a

cab.“Too many hurricanes?” the younger man asked with a

knowing smile.

“Bad gris-gris,” Ty muttered to him. The man hopped

away from him as if he’d said he had the plague.

“It’s just food poisoning,” Zane insisted.

Ty growled, pul ing away from Zane and Nick to stand on

his own and pace several steps. He held to his side. He couldn’t

seem to stay still. He would stalk back and forth and then curl

as pain overtook him, then start the whole thing again.

In a matter of minutes, the hotel’s courtesy shuttle was

pul ing up outside and they were on their way to the hospital.

Ty rocked in the backseat, fumbling with the little red bag

he’d snatched from Zane’s hand as he tried to get it open.

“Give me that,” Zane said, taking it out of Ty’s hand and

putting it in his pocket. “Let’s not scare the locals any more

than we have to until we find out what’s wrong.” When the

van pulled up to the emergency entrance, he climbed out of

the van and reached back in to help Ty out.

Ty gripped his hand hard and practically fell out of the

van. Someone called to them, asking if he needed a wheelchair.

Ty nodded wordlessly. It seemed he wasn’t going another step.

“I know what it is, Zane,” he gasped. He looked up at Zane,

and Zane could have sworn that he was smiling. “Fucking

kidney stone.”

Zane groaned and covered his face with his hands for a

moment, ashamed to be relieved by Ty’s self-diagnosis. “And

you know this from experience, I take it?”

Ty practically fell into the wheelchair that was brought

to him, and he leaned over and began the incessant rocking

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again. “Last time was like the most pain I’ve ever been in . . .

in my life,” he told Zane haltingly. His eyes were watering; he

was very nearly in tears. He was smiling, though.

Zane leaned over and put one hand on each of the arms of

the wheelchair so he could look Ty in the eyes. “Considering

I know what sort of injuries you’ve had, that doesn’t make me

feel better. At al .” He stood up and gestured for the orderly

to push Ty inside.

“At least it won’t kill me,” Ty replied as he was pushed

away.

Ty stared at the ceiling tile and the block of light above

him. The nurse had put something he couldn’t pronounce into

the IV in his arm about two minutes ago, and the space-time

continuum had opened up shortly thereafter. His ears buzzed,

his eyes wouldn’t blink, he couldn’t feel his extremities, and

there was a low sound in the distance that might have been

his own breathing.

But he no longer hurt.

The lady who’d taken his insurance information had

promised to go retrieve Zane, and Ty was simply reminding

himself to continue breathing until he got there.

“Hey, how are you doing?” It was Zane, finally. Nick and

Digger were with him, looking more bemused than worried.

Ty turned his head slowly, his eyes focusing on Zane with

what he could only consider utter contentment. “Better,” he

managed to answer. “Kidney stone.”

“Yeah, somebody’s stoned,” Digger said with a laugh.

Zane stopped at the bedside, hands in his pockets. “Did

they give you something for the pain?”

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“Oh yeah,” Ty practically crooned. He shifted on the

narrow hospital bed, pul ing the blankets around him to ward

off the chill caused by the saline being pumped into him.

There was still discomfort all through his lower half, but it

was dull enough that he didn’t care. He had even welcomed

the catheter they put in because it had been less painful than

what he’d been going through. “They took a CT and said

it should pass soon.” He held out his hand. “Can I have the

bag?”“What bag?” Digger asked. He and Nick still hung back

by the door.

Zane looked reluctant to hand it over as he pulled it out

of his pocket, pinched between two fingers.

“Oh, son of a bitch,” Digger said, and he shifted his weight

from one foot to the other as he dug around in a pocket.

Nick held out one hand, and Digger slapped a twenty

dol ar bill onto his palm. “Never bet against the crazy hoodoo

ex,” Nick said as he folded the money into his own pocket.

“You’re both assholes,” Ty told them.

Zane turned to look at them, and he was still glaring when

he met Ty’s eyes again. He held the bag up. “Don’t scare the

doctors with this voodoo stuff, huh?” he said after too long of

a pause. “I don’t want you hurting.”

“What are you talking about?” Ty asked as he took the

bag with clumsy fingers.

Zane motioned to the bag. “This superstition stuff. The

doctors might take you seriously and kick you out of here.

That nurse has voodoo dolls at her station out there.” He

sounded a little unnerved, which was unusual.

“Voodoo dolls are usually used for good things, you