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)
Ezra mumbled something and lifted his hand as the vehicle moved, sending tremors all over the truck bed.
“Fuck,” growled Shane. “I came as soon as I heard the shot, but I don’t know what’s going on. Jag caught me on the way and said the gate was ‘breached’ whatever the fuck that means. I’ll check the cameras when he’s safe in the hospital.”
Frank’s scrambled brain latched on to the new information as he tried to put the puzzle pieces together. Ezra wouldn’t have come searching where he was told not to go unless he had a good reason.
Frank looked up at Shane, chilled to the bone. “Cameras. Paul could have left cameras in Ezra’s apartment.”
Shane scowled. “Fuck.”
Chapter 23
Ezra
Ezra was too exhausted to move, speak, or open his eyes.
So he just let himself be, floating on the surface between sleep and reality. He had no care in the world, and even if he did, he wouldn’t have had the strength to do anything about it. A part of him was content in this perfect limbo, but eventually he started noticing things like the constant beep close by, the pain that sometimes pulled him out of peaceful slumber, and the dryness in his mouth. Once he couldn’t stand it anymore, he opened his eyes and saw a bouquet of flowers on a table across from his bed.
He turned his aching head to the side, only to spot Frank sitting up straight in the chair next to him. He waved his massive hand, which was wrapped with a bandage. What was that about? Ezra couldn’t remember.
“Hey, sweetie. Are you in pain? Do you need anything?”
A deep sense of wrongness settled in Ezra’s stomach. Something was taped to his face, and when he focused, he realized there was a gauze dressing attached to his nose. He tried to speak, but his tongue felt like a piece of wood when he asked for water. The word came out as a low mumble, but Frank seemed to understand and poured some water into a plastic cup.
“It’s okay if you need to rest. I can ask the nurse for more painkillers too,” Frank said in a soft voice as he offered Ezra the cup.
The cool liquid filled Ezra's mouth, and he soaked it up like a sponge. Every swallow cleared his thoughts, and by the time the cup was empty, he blinked, staring down at the wires attached to his chest.
“Why am I here?” he asked, unsure why his mind refused to work at its normal speed. He might be awake, but his brain seemed half-asleep. His voice sounded dull and hollow.
Frank nodded and took hold of his hand, gently weighing it between his warm palms. “You had an accident. At the junkyard. What’s the last thing you remember?” Frank pulled up Ezra’s hand up to his lips and kissed it.
One of Ezra’s fingers was numb and in a splint, but the rest of his arm was also covered by a stiff cast, which started making him itch the moment he spotted it.
His head throbbed, and he pushed deeper into the pillow when something big and heavy sped toward him in a flash of recollection. But then, Frank had lifted that thing and gotten him out of a hole in the ground.
“You saved me.”
Frank’s lips spread in a tender smile. “I did what I could. You ran deep into the junkyard at night. Do you remember why?”
Ezra blinked, wrestling with the fatigue fogging up his mind. He did remember running, feeling frantic and desperate to reach Frank, and when the image of three approaching vehicles, and a white glow turning the house into a shadow flashed through his brain, he squeezed his undamaged fingers on his lover’s thick, warm palm.
“Someone came. And you didn’t pick up your phone. So I ran. I think I took the bicycle.”
Frank nodded. “I’m sorry. I didn’t have any reception. We’re worried that Paul could have had cameras in your apartment, because someone did break into the junkyard that night, and they came straight to my house. I shouldn’t have left you on your own.”
Ezra shook his head, choking up as the fear that had driven him to flee came right back, as if the danger was still present. “Don’t go now?”
“I won’t. I’ve been here all along. Only swapping with someone if I needed to go to the bathroom, but for you, I’ll pee in a bucket.” His eyes were soft and full of emotion as he once again kissed Ezra’s broken hand.
But something was off. There were missing pieces to this puzzle, and his body could feel it like rising nausea, even if his brain wasn’t catching up. “I didn’t see the people, but I knew they came for me, so I fled through the window. They were banging on the door,” Ezra whispered, desperate to retrace his steps and make sense of what had happened.