Grind (Wrong Side of the Tracks #4) Read Online K.A. Merikan

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Bad Boy, Contemporary, Crime, Dark, M-M Romance Tags Authors: Series: Wrong Side of the Tracks Series by K.A. Merikan
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Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 127213 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 636(@200wpm)___ 509(@250wpm)___ 424(@300wpm)
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Good. No trouble then.

Frank climbed into the cab to find Ezra in front of a set of cards on the floor. As soon as he spotted Frank, his eyes went wide.

“I was worried,” he said, rising to his feet. His hand rested on Frank’s arm, and the touch triggered an eruption of goosebumps. This guy was doing things to Frank. Things he hadn’t felt in a long time, if ever, but they were not a good match, and it would be better for Ezra to remain ignorant as to why.

“I see Jag kept you occupied. You’ll spend the night at mine, and we’ll figure out details tomorrow. All went smooth with Paul, but he took his damn time, and was asking about you.”

Jag leaned against the wall of the cab with a packet of chips in his hand. “Why didn’t you tell us you were getting massage therapy?”

Frank stilled, blindsided by this idiocy. Massage therapy. By inserting dick into Frank’s throat more like. Or giving the most amazing hand jobs.

At least this meant Ezra hadn’t told Jag the truth. “Jag, it’s been a long night, okay?”

“Maybe he should give massage therapy to Dane too. He’s been having pain in his shoulder,” Jag said with the kind of sincerity no one else was capable of.

“Sure, Frank’s friends are my friends,” Ezra said, smiling at him, and leaned toward Frank to obscure the fact that he was now holding onto Frank’s T-shirt, as if he needed the safety of his closeness.

“Maybe. Keep his presence here secret, Jag.”

“But—”

Frank knew exactly what he wanted to say, so he raised his hand. “Yes, you can tell Dane, but make sure he understands Ezra needs to stay hidden.”

Jag nodded. “I’ll do that.”

Frank didn’t wait any longer and pulled on Ezra’s elbow, urging him outside into the crisp night air.

Shame crept up Frank’s back when he noticed Ezra had turned his coat inside out, as if he feared the dirt of Frank’s junkyard would rub off on him, but he didn’t argue and just went down the ladder, straight onto the ground littered with empty cans.

“Dane hid your car, and everything went smoothly on that end. How… how are you feeling?” Frank asked, leading the way with his hands in his pockets to not make Ezra feel like anything was expected of him. Their new situation was a minefield, and neither of them needed more disruptions than this night had already provided.

He could practically sense Ezra’s minty breath on his back as Frank headed down an alley broad enough for his stocky form. He kept the flashlight low, to focus on obstacles under their feet, but his thoughts were spiralling out of control. Once again, he considered leading Ezra to Shane’s home, since it would stay unoccupied for the next few days, but his thoughts stalled when a warm hand closed on his wrist, as if Ezra were attempting to get Frank’s hand out of the pocket.

Frank couldn’t deny Ezra, so he entwined his sausage fingers with Ezra’s elegant digits.

“I’m alive. Thanks to you.”

They remained quiet for the length of their trek through the mounds of junk. It was only once they stepped into the clearing around Frank’s home that he relaxed.

“I’m so sorry you’re in this mess. It’s not your fault, but you will have to deal with it. We’ll work out some kind of plan for you, but Paul has lots of connections. We’ll have to be careful.”

Ezra squeezed his hand, and while Frank couldn’t see his face in the dark, he felt what it expressed in the desperate fear oozing from Ezra.

“I’m sorry to bring this on you. But you were the only one I could trust.”

“You made the right choice. My place is very remote.” But as exhilarating as Ezra’s declaration was, they needed some real talk. “For obvious reasons, I never asked you about your family, but to help you, I need to know more about you, Ezra. The real you. Is that your name?”

Ezra exhaled, looking up at Frank as they stood in the middle of the junkyard deep in the night. The flashlight sharpened his features, but they remained sweet and innocent, as if nothing could have stained him. “It’s my second name. But I use it, since the first is Burton. It’s a bit too old for me.” He said nothing about his surname, which made Frank exhale in frustration. Clearly, despite trusting him enough to come here, Ezra still wasn’t sure if he could reveal his true identity. Maybe Frank shouldn’t be surprised when he too had secrets to keep, but if he was the one having to deal with this whole situation, then he should gain full access.

He let go of Ezra’s hand to open the tiny gate in the low fence around his house. He wasn’t sure why he'd kept it, since it didn’t protect from anything, but maybe he was more sentimental than he’d like to admit. His ex had been the one to put it together.


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