Chapter 5
EZRA
I stared at the door.
The door.
The light brown one that led down to the basement.
I’d seen all the movies before I’d left home.
I knew how this kind of thing worked. Samael couldn’t have taken the bodies anywhere else yet—there had been no time—and that curious part of me wanted to see them.
Wanted to know what they looked like after he’d finished with them.
He didn’t ban me from any areas in the house, so I didn’t need his permission to investigate.
I sighed. Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t do it, not without talking to him first. I didn’t understand the whole killing thing, but I did know a thing or two about privacy. This was his home and it was warm with food and a hot shower. I wasn’t going to fuck this up.
A sharp, loud sound ripped through the house, and I jumped on instinct, scampering toward the kitchen drawer for a knife—one with a long sharp blade.
It took me a moment to realize it was the doorbell.
I’d forgotten what they sounded like. Then, there was knocking, loud thumps on the door that grated on my nerves.
“Yoohoo! Anyone home? I know Samael went to work, but Eleanor told me his boyfriend was home and I wanted to introduce myself.”
Boyfriend? I dropped the knife back into the drawer and closed it, walking curiously to the front door.
I still had the sweatpants and shirt on that he’d left me, and I’d yet to shower and leave the house.
Samael had only gone to work an hour ago, though, so I didn’t think it was outrageous to still be in the clothes I’d slept in.
I peeked through the peephole in the door and frowned at the middle-aged woman on the other side. She had brown curls and green cat-eye glasses. Her lips were slathered in a deep red lipstick, but it wandered outside the lines of her mouth.
I cringed. Fuck. I didn’t know what Samael’s policy was on answering doors. How the hell did she know I was here?
Opening the door slightly, I peered through the narrow space I’d made. “Who’re you?”
She grinned, flashing her perfect white teeth in a way that reminded me of my mom. “Hi! I’m Annabella Lawrence, one of Samael’s neighbors. Oh, aren’t you the cutest?” She gasped when I opened the door a little more. “What happened to your face, sweetheart? Oh my god, Samael didn’t do this, did he?”
“No!” The urge to defend the man who’d protected me forced me to swing the door open fully. I crossed my arms over my chest, partly because I felt exposed to the cold outdoor air, and also because it annoyed me that she would even suggest him hurting me. “Samael’s a gentleman. He wouldn’t.”
But how the hell did I know that? I didn’t know the guy and he was a serial killer. Although, I had a feeling this Annabelle had no idea about that part of Samael.
She bobbed her head in a nod and slapped her hands together. I took note of the way she was dressed, from her thick wool jacket to her brown business pants. She looked like someone who definitely lived in suburbia, a desperate housewife.
“Of course he wouldn’t. He’s always been so nice to the ladies living around here.
When we need our lawns mowed, he’s always the first to volunteer.
” She laughed then, flushing red in the cheeks.
“Of course, we all competed for his attention. It’s not often you come across a man like him, gentlemanly as a gentleman can come.
We should’ve known he was too good to be true. Gay. I would never have guessed.”
Me either. I kept my lips pressed tightly together. Did Samael even know what he was?
“Who told you he was gay?” I asked before I could stop myself. A sliver of me hoped it was true, but he’d told me himself he wasn’t, but then he jerked me off. If that wasn’t mixed signals, I didn’t know what was.
“He did. Well, he told Eleanor you were his boyfriend. Although, I suppose he could be bisexual, too. That’s a thing isn’t it?
And pansexual. Lots of different sexuals, isn’t there?
I’m learning all about them.” She clapped her hands together.
“I’m so excited. I’ve always wanted a gay couple as neighbors. ”
“Ah, I think you have the wrong idea.”
She waved at me. “Don’t be silly. Can I come in?” She pushed herself on her tiptoe, staring over my shoulder.
I closed the door nearly all the way again so she couldn’t see inside. “Sorry, I’m really busy right now. I have a lot of things I need to do.”
“I completely understand, sweetheart. Samael never invites us over. We always thought it was because he didn’t want to play favorites with the poor single women of the neighborhood. Do you at least have a name?”
I thought about not giving it to her, but if Samael told Eleanor—whoever she was—that I was his boyfriend, then I had to play along. “Ezra. My name’s Ezra.”
“Well, you’re a cutie, Ezra. Tell Samael I popped over to say hello, and we should totally have dinner one night. I can cook, of course.”
I nodded as quickly as I could, the uncomfortable feeling rising inside me. “Yeah. I’ll do that. Sorry, I have to go.”
“Tootaloo!” She fluttered her fingers at me and spun on her beige heeled boots, striding down the through the snow as though she owned the neighborhood.
I shook my head, not quite sure what to make of her, and closed the door gently.
I didn’t think too hard on everything that had just happened.
It hadn’t even been twenty-four hours and my life had taken a dramatic turn.
The streets weren’t my home right now and I had food and a shower and a flickering fire with warmth that seeped in my bones.
Smiling at the thought, I went back to Samael’s bedroom and searched through his armoire.
When I found a pair of jeans, some underwear, and a T-shirt that would fit me, I walked into the bathroom.
I tossed up the idea of a bath or shower, both sounding amazing, but decided to hit the shower quick before I went to the store like Samael had suggested.
I made sure to give my teeth a good brush, the beautiful taste of mint toothpaste heavy on my tongue.
It was the little hygiene things I missed the most, and after ten minutes of just brushing and brushing and brushing, I knew I couldn’t clean them any more than I had.
Then I went for a shower. After I bathed myself with the sponge and soap and washed my chin-length hair with shampoo and conditioner—twice! —I twisted the knobs off.
I dressed once I got out of the shower and dried off, and then I stared at myself in the mirror.
I looked a little better than I had yesterday morning.
My brunet hair was softer, instead of clumped together, and the dirt on my face had swirled down the drain last night.
The bruises on my cheek, chin, and corner of my eye had darkened overnight, with the deep purple shiners prominent on my pale skin.
Fucking bastards. I was glad Samael had dealt with them; although, I also wished he hadn’t so I could’ve done something to them, too. Didn’t I deserve to get a few hits in?
Shaking my head at the thought, I grabbed a spare coat from the armoire before I went back downstairs and grabbed the credit card I’d left on the table.
There was a grocery store a few blocks away and there was a collapsible cart leaning against the front door, so I decided it was easier to take that.
Mind made up, I grabbed the spare key he’d given me and strode out the front door with more confidence than I actually felt.
My ribs still ached, a constant throb reminding me of the feel of the asshole’s foot on my chest. He didn’t use as much force with his kick as he did with his fists, though, and the pain radiating from my face proved that.
The bones in my cheek were tender, but I didn’t think they were broken.
I locked the front door behind me and headed down Samael’s freshly plowed walkway to the suburban street filled with pretty, little quaint houses.
They all looked very similar, with snow-covered lawns, brown peaked roofs, brick walls, and wide windows.
Samael’s was the same, except he didn’t have garden beds scattered around the front lawn.
Instead, his was plain, with only a winding path that led to his front door.
Who had plowed Samael’s driveway and walkway? I glanced around and caught sight of an elderly man talking to another lady a few houses down, a shovel clutched in his hand. He gave me a short nod and I suspected he’d done it, so I gave him a smile and raised my palm in thanks.
Annabella stood on her doorstep across the street, and when she saw me, she waved.
I returned the gesture awkwardly, not sure what else to do.
Is this what neighbors did in this kind of area?
Shoving my hands into the thick leather jacket I’d found in Samael’s armoire, one hand still clutched around the credit card, I shifted down the newly ploughed sidewalk and past more houses with overly friendly people who yelled out their good mornings.
I returned the greetings but only because I had no idea what else to do.
These people didn’t know me, yet they still acknowledged me.
It was weird. I wasn’t invisible anymore, and it almost felt like I belonged to a community even though most of them didn’t know my name.
The frigid air danced across my exposed cheeks, and I buried myself deeper into the coat.
At least now I had clothing that protected me from the weather.
My boots, on the other hand, didn’t save me from the cold of the snow seeping through to my socks.
I needed to buy a new pair at some point.
Hell, I could buy a whole new wardrobe and finally get rid of that ratty backpack, so if Samael ended up kicking me out again, I’d have some possessions worth keeping.
As it was, my bag was stuffed in the guest room’s closet, forgotten.
I’d thrown the stale bread out, of course, because that wouldn’t last.