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)
Emotions passed over Ezra’s features like freight trains speeding in opposite directions. “Are they all bad people?”
“Yeah, that’s the deal with the motorcycle club and the few other people that know. I’m not perfect, Ezra. I’ll never make up for what I did, but I try to continue my granddad’s legacy in my own way. It’s not easy when you’re gay and on the fringe of society, so I helped Jag when he needed it, gave Shane a hand, made a place in my home for Dex. In the process, I got their hands dirty too, but life isn’t black and white. We support each other like family, not like in the gang, where it was all about being useful. Not like with Paul.”
Ezra nodded, and his lips stretched into the softest of smiles. Frank would have swallowed a live eel to be graced with it more often. “They all love you like an older brother,” he said and squeezed Frank’s hand with so much tenderness, hope lit up all of Frank’s body.
He took a deep breath, spurred on by the alcohol coursing through his veins. “And I’m happy to give people a place they can call home. That um… includes you, Ezra.”
When Ezra’s eyes brightened, Frank continued, “I know you have grand plans, and you’ll achieve them for yourself sooner or later, but until then, you could stay here on a more permanent basis if you don’t despise me. I’ve seen you putting stuff on eBay, sorting out my accounting. You’re really good at these things. If you stayed longer, I could build an extension to this house, give you your own entrance and all that.”
Just as quickly as Ezra had offered Frank the dream of maybe mending things between them in the future, all that was taken away when Ezra let go of him and rose, taking a few steps away from the table. Frank’s chest tightened when he watched the beautiful shoulders rise and fall at an agonizingly slow pace while his heart counted split seconds preceding the inevitable.
He’d fucked up. Ezra had only wanted to clear the air before leaving him behind, and he’d crossed invisible boundaries.
Ezra spoke before he managed to apologize. “That’s okay. I get it. I’ll be out of your hair. Tomorrow.”
Frank wasn’t sure how to understand that. “What? Ezra, I just said, you could stay. Do you not like the work? You could do something else. Or nothing,” he added, not wanting Ezra to feel like he had to work for his keep.
Still facing away from him, Ezra crossed his arms on his chest and took a long, laborious breath. “I don’t need pity, Frank. I get it that you don’t want this kind of burden when I’m no longer the way I was,” he said in a voice made of shattered glass and needles.
Frank swallowed and got up so abruptly his chair fell over. “What ‘burden’? You’re not a burden. You… brighten my life. What are you even talking about?”
“Then why don’t you want to see me anymore? I thought we could… go back to the way things were.”
When his voice broke into a sob, Frank dashed up to him in panic and hugged him from behind, desperate to not see him shed another tear. “No, sweetie, of course I want to see you. All the time. Every day. When I wake up and before I go to sleep,” he choked out, unwilling to hide that anymore. “But I can’t expect you to accept my dirty hands. I thought this would have been what you wanted.”
Frank was still processing what Ezra had said, because he couldn’t comprehend that after all he’d heard tonight, Ezra might want him.
Ezra’s breathing sounded laborious when he turned and pressed close, hiding his face from Frank’s view. “I’m such a mess. I already cost you so much time, and money, and I might just always have ugly scars. But I never felt like this, Frank. Only about you.”
Frank’s mouth went dry and his heartbeat sped up. He now regretted arguing with Jag over coming home early. This was what Ezra wanted him back for, and he’d been too stuck in his own head to see it.
He stroked the perfect black waves of hair, elated and lightheaded as if he’d drank a whole bottle of vodka, not a couple of shots. “Baby… I’ve got you. And scars aren’t ugly. They’re just scars. Just today I was thinking about how beautiful you are, how much I miss touching you, how happy it makes me to take care of you.”
Ezra took a deep breath and wiped his eyes, before leaning back to look at Frank. His eyes were red and damp, and his face still swollen from injuries sustained almost a month ago, but his battered soul was tender and sweet. Frank wanted to make him his.