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)
Which told Frank Ezra trusted him to a certain degree, but also that he had nowhere else to go. It was an unspoken rule that Frank didn’t ask Ezra about his personal life, but now he was left with a severe lack of information. It had worked perfectly when they saw each other now and then and had inconsequential fun, but also meant Frank was in the dark about Ezra’s real life.
Worse still, since Shane was away at some dog thing, Dex was busy with his motorcycle club, and Jag had to take care of Ezra, Paul had him alone. And so he started casually asking about Ezra, which turned Frank’s back into a sweaty swamp. At least Paul had the courtesy to bring his bodies disposal-ready, unlike some people who thought they could dump a guy in a blood soaked trunk and wiggle out of paying extra for the cleanup.
Paul had definitely found the phone and knew Frank had been seeing Ezra, so Frank didn’t deny it, but he told Paul that they’d ended their arrangement because Ezra was going to LA. That didn’t mean Paul would stop his search, but it gave Frank a bit more time to work out how to deal with this fucked-up situation. Because Frank had known Paul long enough to be sure that the vengeful bastard wouldn’t let an accidental witness live long enough to become a liability in the future.
During the digging, Frank got to find out that the dismembered fucker was a mafia member stealing from his own family, but that fact wouldn’t help Ezra sleep better at night. Ezra would need years of therapy after this, because he was in no way used to the shit that was Frank’s bread and butter. He should have never seen what he had, and he should have never had a reason to come here.
Once Paul was gone, Frank washed off the dirt and grime in the shower but was well aware he’d never be clean enough for a guy like Ezra. He’d never be able to be honest with him, so the delusional fantasies of Ezra wanting to be with him were just that. Delusions.
He could never have someone this radiant and perfect, and even leaving crime behind altogether wouldn’t have atoned for all the blood on Frank’s hands. It chilled him that had Ezra not known Frank, he might have made the mistake of running home straight from Paul’s. He wouldn’t have survived the night.
Frank cursed when his head hit the showerhead, and he stepped out of the stall, grabbing his towel. He wiped the wetness off his body, gave his long hair a firm squeeze, and left the bathroom, feeling his stomach drop at the sight of his living room.
He’d made a lot of the furniture himself and was proud of that, but every bit of his house was practical rather than elegant. In comparison to the cozy minimalism of Ezra’s apartment, Frank’s bungalow was a shack full of mismatched items with a disassembled radio taking up most of the table, Strongman tournament cups on the kitchen counter, and trash bags piled around the trashcan, because he’d recently been too busy to think about cleaning.
He grabbed the empty tray of a TV dinner and got rid of it, but the longer he stared at the mess, the clearer it was that unless he made Ezra sleep in Jag’s den tonight, he didn’t have enough time to tidy up.
He just made sure there was no lube by the sofa, and that his guns were locked away, but after that, he braided his hair, put on a clean pair of jeans and a T-shirt, and headed out with a heavy heart.
Ezra’s presence here would lead to nothing good. Paul had asked Frank to keep an eye out for Ezra, because he still had Paul’s car keys. Which was a lie. But if he asked Frank, he’d be contacting other acquaintances as well. No immediate solution was foolproof, so they’d have to play it by ear until it was safe for Ezra to leave, but his dreams of LA would be shattered, because he couldn’t go the place he’d said he would.
Ezra could not continue advertising his services and being a presence in his usual circles, period. And that meant, he could no longer work as an escort, because sooner or later, Paul would track him down.
He didn’t yet know how to break the news, so he focused on getting to the den as fast as possible. It was past two a.m. and he needed to sleep off this fucked-up day before having serious conversations. He whistled as soon as the truck where Jag would have taken Ezra came into view, and sure enough, the junkyard warrior peeked out of the cab before sending Frank a signal with his flashlight.