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)
He should take Frank’s hand in exchange for the safety he offered in a world where Ezra was marked prey, but he was too hurt, too angry, and on too many drugs to be rational.
So he just glared at the hand and grabbed the blanket he was covered with instead.
“‘Options’?”
“If you never found out about what I do, it would have been easier for you to just leave. I still want you to feel that you can, but you’ll need to stay with me until the dust settles. But… my feelings for you are honest. You’ll have time to think about it. About us,” he mumbled the last bit as if it was something to be ashamed of.
“There is no us,” Ezra muttered, meeting Frank’s gaze. “You’re someone I don’t know.”
And yet he’d still go back to the junkyard with Frank. He was terrified of what he’d seen back at the container, but not stupid. Frank at least had a reason to keep him alive, unlike Paul and his goons. And that reason was, well, his feelings. While flimsy and intangible, if it was a branch that might save him from doom, Ezra would grab it.
The cynical part of Ezra, the same that had made him start his escorting career, knew that Frank was more likely to protect him if they were still an item, but the naive boy who had fallen for a client lived in Ezra too, and he believed Frank would keep him safe regardless. After all, bringing him to the hospital had been a gamble, yet Frank had chosen to take that risk for Ezra’s sake.
He cares about you, whispered his pathetic heart as Frank sat back down in the armchair with his bandaged hands curled into fists. Frank had hurt himself lifting a car to save him.
Did it make Ezra a bad man that he enjoyed knowing this despite the truth about Frank?
He chose to go with his gut and met Frank’s gaze. He might still not know the whole truth about him, but last night had made one thing clear: he could trust Frank with his safety. Especially since Frank risked being exposed to the cops by bringing him here, yet he’d still done it, prioritizing Ezra’s health over his freedom.
“Don’t make that face. You’ll get over me when the stitches come out and I’m no longer a prize.”
“I’m sure you’ll be as adorable as ever,” Frank said softly, his voice warm like a scented bath with rose petals floating on the surface. In this moment, Ezra wanted to be in its embrace, even if it contained blood.
“Yeah, like those puppies born without hind legs.”
Frank smirked. “Exactly. Very cute.”
But Ezra wasn’t laughing. He had no idea what his life would look like now.
And he fucking hated it.
Chapter 24
Frank
Frank wanted to be a gentleman, give Ezra space and time to think things through, but the way Ezra withdrew his affection hurt like being stabbed with a blunt knife over and over. Frank had known this would eventually happen—there was only so long a secret like his could be kept from a life partner—but had managed to talk himself into believing the opposite.
He was such a hopeless fool.
This was Ezra’s last day at the hospital. While he’d need time to fully recover, he’d calmed down about being left on his own when Frank needed to use the restroom, which meant that Frank no longer swapped shifts with friends and pretty much moved into the hospital, sleeping in an armchair a few paces away from Ezra’s bed.
They watched television almost constantly, which diffused the choking silence stretching between them like a wall, but it couldn’t snap Frank out of the sense of regret and failure. He should have known loving someone normal, without any connections to the criminal underworld was a near-guaranteed failure, yet he’d pursued Ezra. Because he’d wanted to.
As if to showcase what kind of life Ezra was missing out on, his TV shows of choice were The Real Housewives of Wherever, and The Kardashians. He didn’t comment on it though, just watched with his eyes glazed over as if only half of his mind was focused on the show. He did sometimes smirk when the characters did something particularly outrageous, so that was progress, but once he’d found out more about the extent of injuries to his face, he'd shut down almost completely.
Frank was lucky to have such dependable friends, because Shane took over his work at the junkyard, and while he'd once called Frank to discuss a particular client, the business hadn’t collapsed yet. Dex, on the other hand, provided a steady stream of food, delivered fresh every day. The meals were a bit hit-and-miss but, more often than not, better than the hospital fare or snacks from the vending machine. He’d promised to bring his famous ramen today, so Frank waited in a lounge area on the second floor, using the food pickup as an excuse to leave the scorch of Ezra’s accusatory gaze for a couple of minutes.