23. Ezra
Chapter 23
Ezra
I burst through the penthouse door, sweat still clinging to my skin from my morning run and that mind-numbing investor meeting. Fuck, I need a shower.
"Lemon!" I call out, kicking off my sneakers. "Your favorite is home!"
I walk out to the pool, but she’s not there, so I head to the bedroom. She’s probably taking a nap in which case I feel like a dick for yelling.
The bedroom’s empty, sheets still rumpled, and she’s not in the spare room either.
I check the study. Books untouched, laptop closed. No fucking Lemon.
Now the panic starts to claw its way up my throat. Where the fuck is she?
I grab my phone, punching Atticus' number with shaking fingers. He picks up on the second ring.
"Ezra, I'm in the middle of?—"
"She's gone," I cut him off, my voice raw. "Lemon's fucking gone, Atticus. I've looked everywhere. The bedroom, the pool, your pretentious-as-fuck study. She's not here."
"Calm down," he says, but I can hear the tension in his voice. "When did you last see her?"
"Mid-morning, before my run. We hung out a bit after you left for work." I run a hand through my hair, tugging hard enough to hurt. "Fuck, Atticus. Who could have taken her? Your security is tight."
"We don't know that anyone?—"
"Don't give me that bullshit!" I snarl. "You know as well as I do that she wouldn't just leave. Not without telling us. Someone has her, and I swear to God, I'll tear this city apart to find her."
"Don't do anything reckless just yet, Ezra," Atticus growls, his voice tight. "I'm pulling up the cameras now."
I pace the hallway, my heart pounding so hard I can feel it in my fucking teeth. Every second feels like an eternity, the silence on the other end of the line driving me insane.
Then I hear it. A curse so vicious it makes even me wince.
"She walked out by herself," Atticus spits. "I'm on my fucking way."
I want to scream, to throw something, to punch a hole through one of these goddamn perfect walls. Instead, I collapse onto the couch, my legs suddenly unable to hold me up.
Fifteen agonizing minutes later, the elevator dings and Atticus strides in, looking like fury incarnate in his tailored suit. His blue eyes are ice cold, jaw clenched so tight I can see a muscle ticking.
"Gerald says she was fine when she left," he says, voice low and dangerous. "He didn't know to alert me if she went out. An oversight on my part. "
I let out a bitter laugh. "An oversight? That's what you're calling it? Jesus Christ, Atticus, she's out there alone! With God knows who looking for her!"
I'm about to rip into Atticus again when he cuts me off with a sharp look.
"Did you try calling or texting her?"
My mouth snaps shut. Fuck. Why didn't I think of that? I feel like a complete moron.
"No," I mutter, avoiding his piercing gaze. "I didn't…I just panicked."
Atticus doesn't comment, just pulls out his phone and dials Lemon's number. The tension in the room is so thick I could cut it with a knife. We both hold our breath, waiting.
No answer.
"Fuck!" Atticus snarls, his cool facade cracking. He immediately dials another number, his voice clipped and authoritative. "It's Reid. I need a phone tracked. The number is?—"
The soft click of the door cuts him off mid-sentence. We both whip around, and there she is. Standing in the doorway, looking like a deer caught in headlights.
My heart nearly stops when I see her. Lemon's standing there, looking small and vulnerable in one of my old shirts. Her dark hair's a mess, like she's been running her fingers through it nervously. Fuck, she's beautiful, even when she looks like she's about to throw up.
Atticus moves first, his voice gravelly and commanding. "Where the fuck did you go?"
Lemon's eyes dart between us, and I can see the wheels turning in her head. She's gonna lie.
Shit.
"II just went to get some pastries," she stammers, her voice barely above a whisper. "From that little bakery down the street. You know, the one with the?—"
"Tell the fucking truth," Atticus cuts her off, his words sharp enough to draw blood. "I have no use for lies."
The room goes dead silent. I can hear my own heartbeat pounding in my ears. Lemon's face crumples, and suddenly she looks so young, so goddamn fragile.
"I went to see my dad," she admits, her voice breaking.
The words hit me like a sucker punch to the gut. I feel the rage bubbling up inside me, hot and violent.
"You did fucking what?" I explode, my voice echoing off the walls. "Are you out of your fucking mind, Lemon? Do you have any idea how dangerous that was?"
I'm pacing now, running my hands through my hair, tugging at it hard enough to hurt. The fear I felt earlier is morphing into anger, white-hot and all-consuming.
"A prison, Lemon! You went to a fucking prison! Do you know what kind of people are in there? What could have happened to you?"
I can see her flinch at my words, but I can't stop. The words are pouring out of me like vomit, bitter and acidic.
"What if someone recognized you? What if they followed you back here? Jesus, Lemon, do you ever think?"
"Ezra," Atticus' voice cuts through my tirade, sharp and commanding. "Enough."
I whirl on him, ready to unleash my fury, but the look in his eyes stops me cold. There's anger there, yeah, but also something else. Something that looks a lot like actual worry.
I turn back to Lemon, and the sight of her tears makes my chest ache. Fuck, I hate seeing her cry. I want to go to her, to wrap her up in my arms and never let go, but I'm too wound up, too raw .
"Why?" I ask, my voice hoarse. "Why would you do something so fucking stupid?"
Lemon looks up at me, her eyes swimming with tears and determination. "Because he's my father, Ezra. And he's innocent. I'm even more sure of it now after seeing and talking with him. He didn't do the things they said and he sure as fuck didn't fuck with you and your business, Uncle Atti."
I watch Lemon's face crumple as Atticus' words hit her like a slap. "You're being na?ve, Lemon," he says, his voice cold as fucking ice.
Lemon's eyes flash with anger, tears still clinging to her lashes. "He’s your best friend." She shouts, her small frame shaking. "If he did what you think he did why would he be okay with me being here?"
"Enough," Atticus cuts her off, and even I flinch at the steel in his voice.
Lemon lets out a strangled sob and stomps off toward the bedroom, slamming the door so hard the walls shake. The sound echoes through the penthouse, leaving a heavy silence in its wake.
I turn to Atticus, my heart pounding. "Do you believe her?" I ask, my voice barely above a whisper. "About Lawson being innocent?"
Atticus' jaw clenches, his eyes hard as flint. "No," he says flatly. "And that's not the issue here, Ezra. The problem is her leaving without a word, putting herself in danger."
He runs a hand through his hair, and for a second, I see a flash of the fear he must have felt when we thought she was gone. It makes my chest ache.
"Don't talk to her," he continues, his voice low and dangerous. "She's being punished. Ice her out. "
I feel my eyes widen. "That's fucking harsh, Atticus. Are you sure?"
The look he gives me could freeze hell itself. "Did I stutter, Ezra?" he growls, and I feel a shiver run down my spine. "She needs to learn there are consequences for her actions. We can't take care of her if she keeps pulling shit like this."
I swallow hard, torn between my instinct to comfort Lemon and my loyalty to Atticus. The tension in the room is so thick I could suffocate on it.
"Fine," I mutter, running a hand over my face. "But I don't like it."
Atticus' expression softens just a fraction. "I know," he says, his voice losing some of its edge. "But it's for her own good."
I nod, feeling like the world's biggest asshole. The sound of Lemon's muffled sobs drifts from the bedroom, and it takes every ounce of willpower I have not to go to her.
Instead, I walk over to the bar and pour myself a double whiskey, the amber liquid sloshing in the glass as my hand shakes. I down it in one gulp, welcoming the burn in my throat.
Atticus watches me, his eyes unreadable. "I have to get back to the office," he says, straightening his already perfect tie. "Keep an eye on her, but remember what I said."
How could I fucking forget? It’ll be the only thought plaguing my mind for the next while.