Page 65 of The Chemist

Fuck.Just another thing to add to his humiliation. He couldn’t even puke right without getting some shit on his shirt and jeans.

Zero tucked him in bed and placed a trash can next to the nightstand.

“Just in case you can’t make it to the toilet.”

Diesel tried to smile, but his face and body hurt too much. He was exhausted, and his stomach felt like it was having a boxing match with his organs.

“Fuck. I’m sorry, man,” Diesel whispered, eyes glancing up at Zero.

He felt horrible. Not only was he embarrassed as shit, but he had also fucked up their stakeout. Who knows what they missed while he was busy throwing up his liver and kidneys?

“None of that,” Zero said, tucking Diesel in like he was five years old.

“What about the doc?”

Zero looked over his shoulder and shrugged.

“The only thing that matters right now is you getting better. Food poisoning can be dangerous.” He began walking toward the door. “I’m just going to grab some water and ginger ale. Can’t have you getting dehydrated on me.”

Diesel tried to laugh but was interrupted by another wave of nausea coupled with intense stomach pains. Fuck his life. He jumped out of bed and ran to the bathroom, slamming the door behind him as he entered.

This was not going to be pretty.

“I’ll be back in a few,” he heard Zero shout from the other side of the door.

His mind disconnected from his body as the demon from gas station hell ripped apart his body. He was never eating food from a gas station again.

He eventually emerged from the bathroom, drained and ready to die.

“Here, let me help you,” Zero offered, wrapping his arm around his shoulders and guiding him back into bed.

Diesel was too exhausted to argue or be embarrassed. He closed his eyes and wished for death to take him.

Grown men don’t do well with being sick.

“Get some rest. I’ll be here if you need me,” Diesel heard Zero say as he pulled the bed sheet up over his chest. His body was starting to sweat and shiver at the same time… because… of course.

25

DIESEL

“Thanks,” Diesel heard Zero say just before hearing the sound of the motel room door close.

What the fuck?

Slowly, Diesel opened his eyes and waited for his vision to focus. Hunched over the tiny table next to the window, Zero was opening a paper bag and pulling out multiple Styrofoam containers.

Zero appeared to be razor-focused on the contents, searching among things he couldn’t seem to find. There was a sweetness about his look—eyebrows scrunched together as he dug through the bag and its contents.

“What’s all that?” Diesel whispered, barely able to lift his head.God, why did eating rotten food wreak havoc on your body?

Turning, Zero’s face lit up, giving him a warm smile like he was happy to see that he was still alive. He placed the item he had just lifted back down into its brown-paper prison.

Diesel had no idea what time it was or how long he’d been sleeping. All he knew was that the room was dark, and he hadpuked another two times before finally falling asleep, dead to the world.

“Dinner! Thought you might want to try eating some toast to help get some solids into you.”

Diesel groaned. He had no desire to eat. Just the thought of food made him want to be sick.

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