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)
His days as a high-end escort were over.
“He… did not tell me that we're going somewhere,” Ezra said, unable to keep bitterness out of his voice, though he felt it deep in his throat, before words left his mouth. Frank clearly was not ready to be seen with him in the town closest to his home. “Uh, would you like something to drink?”
Ros glanced outside, no doubt eager to go back to his fun life instead of lingering with the wretch Ezra had become, but then he nodded and closed the door. “Something warm would be nice. Do you have hot chocolate? It’s getting chilly out there.”
“Yes,” Ezra said right away and ran for the area containing all of the shake ingredients, including raw cocoa powder. “Oat milk okay? Do you sweeten it? I have sugar and stevia.”
He felt pathetic as soon as he finished talking. If he continued being so needy, Ros would soon find an excuse to leave, and he’d spend the rest of the day on his own, like almost every day since returning from the hospital.
Ros smiled at him and started unpacking the food. “Surprise me. I was in town and picked up some groceries for you guys.”
Ezra stalled, but he swallowed his bitterness without a word. He wished he could be this chill about what went into his food, but right now, all he thought about was the contents of the bags Ros placed on the table.
Maybe Frank was right? Maybe it was ridiculous that he stopped trying new foods out of worry that he might enjoy them and start craving them too much?
Okay, even he knew it was ridiculous.
“Thanks. That’s so nice of you. I’m… sorry about not reaching out. I’m still in recovery,” he muttered and poured some oat milk into a pan before putting it on the heat.
Ros glanced at Ezra’s face with… pity? Compassion? Ezra couldn’t tell. “I understand. You’re going through something very hard, take all the time you need. And let me know if I can help in any way. I can’t imagine how annoying it must be to do things with only one hand.”
“No, it’s fine. I actually don’t have much to do here, so I can take my time,” Ezra said and added cocoa to the milk before stirring it in with a whisk. Ros’s gaze heated his back like a brand, but he had no idea what to do about it, so he pretended everything was fine.
“I heard Frank lifted a car to get you out. Looks like all that training paid off. Shane would sometimes tease him about there being no point to the kind of strength training he does, but the other day, when Shane thought I was still asleep, I saw him through the window, struggling to flip one of those crazy massive tires.”
Ezra looked over his shoulder, startled by Ros’s confession but also touched. He barely remembered what had happened to him after the shock of seeing Dex playing with human remains, but he would have been dead if it wasn’t for Frank.
“Fortunately for him, you’re not dumb like me and won’t fall into a trap.”
Ros sighed as he unpacked a whole plastic tray of donuts. “It’s not dumb. You couldn’t have known. I scavenge a lot at the junkyard, and even I will often ask Jag to come with me when I want to go to an area I'm not familiar with. He knows this place best.”
Ezra froze and looked away from the donuts. “How do you deal with everything that happens here?” he asked, whisking the heating cocoa faster, because the very presence of pastries he couldn’t ignore out of politeness made his blood pressure rise.
Ros could have easily made a joke out of the question to avoid its baggage, but his face became serious. “I… I don’t like the danger of what they do, but it became this weird thing where I no longer fear the people involved. You’ll think it’s weird, but I’ve seen Shane do some violent things to protect me, and it made me feel safe. The bikers don’t freak me out either. It’s like with my Rottweilers, they’re mine, you know?”
The pressure in Ezra’s throat grew until he felt as if there was a rock with sharp edges stuck in there. “Have you actually seen the things they do?”
This time Ros wouldn’t meet his gaze, keenly interested in the small print at the back of a bag of oat flakes. “Some of it, and it’s not pretty, I know. But I still stand by Shane. Maybe it’s stupid of me, but I trust him.”
The whisk dropped from Ezra’s hand, and he rested his fingers on the edge of the countertop, watching the light brown liquid spin inside the pot. Its movement affected his own sense of balance, so he shut his eyes, trying to chase off the intrusive images. “I can’t wrap my head around this and the way Frank has always acted toward me. It’s like he’s two different people.”