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)
Shane tut-tutted. “You’re hesitating.”
“Because it’s complicated. I trust him… to a degree. I trust that he wouldn’t rat me out to the cops. I trust that he won’t poison my food and disappear. I trust that he means it when he says he likes it when I fuck him. But do I trust that he’ll stay when he finds out there’s bodies decomposing in our backyard? I don’t know.”
Shane sighed and picked out articles of clothing matching the ones on the list. A grin stretched his face as he showed Frank black Versace underwear, but his words couldn’t be more somber. “I’d say it needs more time, but can you afford that with Paul on Ezra’s tail? How far would you go to protect him? If he stays, Paul will know sooner or later.”
The need to smash something was growing inside of Frank, and since the place was a mess already, he kicked a vase to the other side of the living room. The one time he was growing feelings for someone, and it just had to be difficult.
“Far enough. I’ll handle Paul when the time comes. He can be reasoned with, and I don’t think he’d be jealous of Ezra.”
Shane stretched and pulled on Frank’s arm on the way to the bedroom. That space featured on their to-collect list even more extensively than the living area. “Doesn’t it… bother you?”
Frank had to take a deep breath to not dent the wall with his fist, because being here and seeing the ruins of Ezra’s formerly lavish life was making all the emotions he’d suppressed come close to the surface. “Of course it bothers me. When I…” One more inhale. “When I was paying him, I just blocked it out. Him having other clients wasn’t something we discussed. It helped that I didn’t know who they were. Other than Paul, which… yeah, is fucking annoying, but what can you do? It’s different now.”
“Does he know it? Say, things with Paul cool off, you make some deal. Then what? He goes back to—”
“No, he doesn’t.”
Shane raised his eyebrows, loading his bag full of cosmetics scattered on the floor. “What if he wants to?”
Even trying to think about it made Frank’s blood so thick with jealousy his head spun, making him seek the support of the wall.
Shane scowled at the ripped mattress resting against the bedroom wall and approached the open closet. Ezra treated every garment he owned like something precious and always looked immaculate, but the bastards who smashed their way through his apartment in search of hints on Ezra's whereabouts had dumped all of the expensive clothes to the floor. The beige T-shirt Ezra wore during his and Frank’s trip to the lake was even marked with the imprint of a sports shoe, as if it were a worthless rag.
“Sloppy work, even if it is a popular brand,” Shane pointed out, indicating the logo in the middle of the imprint. He then walked over to the half-empty closet and got himself a stool to reach the back of the top shelf.
Frank found the brain power to answer Shane. “He wouldn’t need to do it. I’d take care of him.”
Shane glanced back with a smirk as he pulled out a shoe box. “You’d be his new sugar daddy?”
“No, I’d be his partner, who supports him in life.”
Shane glanced at the list in his hand, then started rummaging through the box. “What if he likes it?”
“What?” Frank scowled, unable to focus on finding the next stash of jewelry.
“You know, some guys like the thrill of fucking around, he might also want to have his own money. Could just be a job to him. You need to talk to him about that.”
The idea of Ezra meeting up with other guys while being his life partner was so repulsive Frank couldn’t find the words to answer Shane. What used to be fine when Frank had accepted his lot in life as client to the beautiful escort would not fly now that feelings were involved for real.
Shane looked up at Frank from an open notebook with a wicked grin. “Oooh, Frankie… I’ve got the motherload. Listen. ‘Frank doesn’t like being fingered.’ Not even a little backdoor action?”
Frank moved before he could even comprehend what happened. “Put that away! That’s his private shit!”
“A lot of private shit about lots of different people, neatly cataloged, so he could study his notes before work,” Shane said, stepping back to keep reading. “Ooh, Frank! He gave you a discount!”
Frank tore the notebook out of his hand, and Shane dropped into a chair in Ezra’s reading nook, which currently featured a battered copy of a book on perfume-making on the side table.
“He must like you,” he commented.
Heat trailed from the very middle of Frank’s body and spread to his limbs and face, but despite the notebook feeling like burning coals in his hands, he couldn’t bring himself to discard it when it opened on the page marked with a purple ribbon. The one about him.