Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 127213 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 636(@200wpm)___ 509(@250wpm)___ 424(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 127213 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 636(@200wpm)___ 509(@250wpm)___ 424(@300wpm)
Ezra’s teeth clattered as he hid his face in his hands, feeling trapped between a lesser evil and death. His mother warned him that he’d have to deal with shady people in this line of work, but he’d assumed he wouldn’t need to touch any of it, and dirty money was worth just as much as clean cash.
What next? Would he be kidnapped and moved to some illegal brothel, where he’d get hooked on drugs due to the bleakness of his life?
Movement in the corner of his eye distracted him from that terrible future, and even Frank flinched as a man dressed like a sci-fi warrior emerged from the darkness.
“Why didn’t you answer your phone?” Frank barked.
“I figured it would be faster to speak in person,” the freak said in that weird, gravelly voice.
Frank frowned and approached his… friend (?), but then gave his shoulder a shove. “Why were you close enough when I specifically told you to stay away?”
Jag shook his bush of hair. “Safety reasons.”
Frank threw his arms in the air. “I don’t have time for this, but we will have a chat later.”
Ezra had met this stranger at the gate. He’d appeared out of nowhere, asking for passwords, as if this was Fort Knox, but back then he’d stayed in the shadows. Now that he and Frank stood under the lamp, Ezra saw an outfit composed of mismatched junk and pieces of ripped fabric. It was as if a relatively talented child was attempting to dress as a character from some post-apocalyptic fantasy game, but this guy, Jag, surely wasn’t a cosplayer. One way or another, he was involved in Frank’s illicit business.
“I need you to take him to one of your dens east of here. Make sure he’s safe, don’t leave him behind or test him, understood?”
Jag frowned and his gaze landed on Ezra. Half of his face was sharply illuminated, while the other drowned in darkness. “Why?”
“I don’t have time to explain this. He’s important, and Paul is coming here any minute, so he can’t be found.”
Jag approached the car like an apprehensive cat.
Was Frank for real? This Jag person looked exactly like someone Ezra would cross the street to avoid. But then again, if the choice was between his company and certain death, was it really a choice?
Also, why the fuck would Jag test Ezra?
Choked up, he waved at Jag, who approached him with a pinched face, as if he was never taught that one ought to hide emotions among strangers. He opened the door on Ezra’s side.
“Let’s go,” he said, but then frowned, and leaned in to… smell Ezra.
Ezra had never recoiled faster. “What the hell?” he asked, meeting the guy’s pale gaze. He was handsome from up close, with a symmetrical face and long hair hanging down his shoulders in a mess of strands and loose braids, but Paul didn’t look half bad either, and he murdered people.
“Jag!” Frank yelled as if he were disciplining a dog. “Move.”
Jag huffed and Ezra had nowhere to run when this stranger grabbed him by the arm and pulled.
Frank approached them with an expression carved in stone. “In case you get lost—you won’t, Jag will keep you safe—but just in case,” he said and handed Ezra a flashlight. “It will be easier to find you.”
Ezra itched to grab Frank, or hug him again to reinforce how much he needed help, but he didn’t know if he’d want to be touched in company even if the freak in armor had a boyfriend, who was to drive Ezra’s car. Was he as dusty as this guy?
“Where is he taking me?” he uttered, because if the Rolex was stolen, then who knew what other goods were moved through this lot? He’d rather not know where Frank got the money to buy his time.
If he could only go back a few hours and never go to Paul’s…
Frank sighed, already texting someone. “Just to one of the areas at the junkyard that are hard to access unless you know where they are. I’ll come for you once Paul’s gone.” He looked up from his phone and into Ezra’s eyes. “It’s going to be okay.”
He seemed so confident about it, Ezra calmed down a little, and he gave Frank’s thick forearm a final squeeze, making sure he remembered the warmth of his touch. “Thank you. I’ll be waiting,” he said, stepping back just as Frank’s pupils dilated.
Frank stalled, looking after him as Jag tugged on Ezra’s arm, taking him away from the light and toward the huge mounds of twisted metal. It was only now that Ezra realized how vast the landscape of old cars and disused appliances seemed, even in the dark. A man could get lost here forever, so maybe there was a method to this madness?
Away from Frank’s home, darkness became so thick it felt choking, but just as Ezra was about to seek a switch on the flashlight, Jag’s face lit up from a bright lamp attached to his head. “Follow me, Ezra,” he said and jogged toward a mound of rust-chewed cars.