6. Chapter Six
Chapter Six
A few days had passed since the disaster of a date.
Ezra wasn’t stupid. He’d seen the way Sloan had paled at the mention of his brother. Rick tended to ruin most good things in his life, so he shouldn’t be surprised he’d be fucking up this too. However, he couldn’t figure out the connection between them. How Sloan could ever have been associated with a scumbag like Rick. Maybe it had been during the years he’d moved to Sacramento for a spell. When he was transitioning and starting T, he wanted to be away from the family while he figured himself out.
He paced back and forth in his apartment.
He’d been ignoring his brother’s texts because the second he saw them, he knew Rick was up to the same shit again. Rick kept insisting on an in-person meetup to go over specifics, which meant he was neck-deep in sketchy shit. So Ezra wanted to handle it now before Rick took up any more real estate in his life. He patted his pockets for the thousandth time, phone in one and his Smith and Wesson in the other. He wasn’t stupid enough to talk to his brother without a pistol.
Sweat prickled on the back of his neck, even though his apartment wasn’t hot. Living in Sacramento had been easier, honestly. Less drama. Less shit to worry about. Yet when he’d returned to San Francisco and entered into the kink scene at Whipped, for the first time, he felt like he might’ve found a fucking place he fit in.
Except Sloan worked there, and if he wouldn’t talk about what had spooked him, Ezra might’ve blown that spot too.
His phone buzzed, and he checked it so fast the phone almost flew from his hand.
Not Rick.
Kai.
Are you free to meet up today?
Ezra plunked down into his ratty blue couch with almost violent force. Talking over kink with Kai, connecting with some human who wasn’t Rick. Yeah, he fucking wanted that. As long as he survived this meeting.
Just another dance along the knife’s edge.
The smart thing to do would be to meet him at Mom and Pop’s. However, Ezra hadn’t been choosing the safe or smart route for years. Why start now? Besides, he’d written his parents off years ago, and they didn’t try much either.
He sucked in a sharp breath. Had nothing to do with the ache in his chest that had emerged when Sloan had looked at him in horror the other night—an ache that still hadn’t dissipated. He shot a message back to Kai.
Yeah. Your place this evening?
Before he could pay attention to those three dots dancing across his screen, a rap sounded at the door.
No question who that was.
Ice slid down Ezra’s veins as he popped up from the seat, his only comfort the heavy weight in his conceal and carry holster. His heart thumped so loud it deafened as he yanked open the door.
Rick’s ugly mug stared back at him. Olive skin scattered with scars, thick brows, and their dad’s scowl. The sight of him snapped Ezra into a mode he hated. Except his emotions swirled down the drain, the numbness taking residence.
Bones had been broken.
Hands burned too many times to count.
More concussions than if he’d played a sport.
And Rick hadn’t been stupid. All done with some excuse or reason or threat. All done out of sight of Mom and Dad. Easy because Mom was a shift nurse, and Dad worked construction hours.
Rick’s lips curled into the ugly sneer Ezra had imprinted on his brain. He held his hand steady on his piece as that numbing fog rolled through him.
“Going to invite me in?” Rick asked, his slimy-as-fuck voice slithering down Ezra’s spine.
Fuck no. He might be somewhat stupid, but he wanted this over with, not a gossip sesh over tea. He’d put on a lot more muscle on T, so if Rick tried anything, he was in for a surprise.
“What do you want, Rick?” Ezra leaned against the doorframe, not budging. He’d been hoping Rick got hooked on drugs and lost some of his definition or alertness, but that wasn’t the case. “The texts are getting old.”
“You’re not letting me in?” Rick fucking reeked, like cigarettes and body odor, and Ezra wanted him out of his space .
Ezra stared at him dead-eyed, which funnily enough, fit the flatline inside him. “No.”
Rick crossed his arms as if he might attempt to push the matter. Ezra’s hand didn’t leave the handle of his pistol. Fucking try it. He kept his chin up and his shoulders back, refusing to cower before Rick anymore.
“Look, the guys I’m rolling with now…we could use someone who knows how to patch up people.”
So that was why he’d been hitting him up. His EMT training. Whatever gang Rick had gotten himself into was probably looking at him to prove himself. Of course the fucker tried to offer Ezra up as collateral. If his dead little heart was working right now, he’d be fucking furious. But he still coasted on numb, the out-of-body feeling he got whenever he had to deal with Rick.
Fucking disassociation.
“The answer’s no, Rick,” Ezra said. His shoulders were stiff as fuck, his body poised for action.
“Come on, Em—”
Ezra pulled his pistol and aimed straight for his skull. “Fucking say it, I dare you.”
“God, you’re touchy as fuck,” Rick said. “What, on your fucking period?”
A bitter laugh escaped Ezra’s lips. Damn, trying for a two-fer, wasn’t he? “Don’t get those anymore, shithead. Chances are, my cock’s bigger than yours now.”
Rick’s neck grew a mottled, patchy shade of red, which meant he was pissed and liable to do something dumb. Time to wrap this shit up .
“Out,” Ezra said, his voice remaining calm, even though his insides clenched like a fist. “Or I’ll shoot.” He cocked the safety, the click resounding through the room. Rick’s eyes widened the slightest bit.
“You got touchy as fuck.” Rick backed away a pace. “Turn this offer down, and don’t bother calling me for help.”
A hysterical laugh bubbled up in his throat. He didn’t bother restraining it, and Rick shook his head, muttering “fucking crazy” under his breath. When had Rick helped him a day in his life? The idea Rick believed he was taking something from him was funny as fuck.
“Yeah, I’ll risk it.” Ezra didn’t waver with his hand on his pistol, finger on the trigger.
Rick spat out a curse and stepped away from the door. Ezra remained still, not moving an inch until the stomp of Rick’s retreating footsteps echoed. His heart thrummed at a hummingbird’s pace as he balanced on the knife edge he’d grown so familiar with over the years. Only once the quiet returned did he shut the door. Even still, his grip remained on his gun a few beats longer.
He sagged against his closed door, his breath coming out shaky. Fucking hell.
His week had gone from shit to shittier.
His throat squeezed tight, and he shoved down the memories churning in his gut like acid. Even the sight of Rick could fuck him up, but he wouldn’t let that asshole take anything more from him. He turned the safety off and holstered his gun. That wouldn’t be the last time he heard from Rick either. He’d need to be vigilant.
Ezra looked up at the popcorn ceiling of his apartment, the spot of mildew bigger than before. His eyes throbbed, but he didn’t cry over Rick. He’d lost the ability to years ago. Yet that didn’t change the pit in his chest, the way his skin felt stretched too thin .
He pulled out his phone and stared at the message waiting for him from Kai.
Sure, I’ll be here.
Kai had sent his address right after. He wasn’t sceneing with Kai, just talking about domming and potentially subbing, so if his headspace wasn’t the best, that was okay. What he craved was human connection. A reminder that his life could be more than bruises and split asphalt.
He chewed his lower lip.
Decision made.
I’m heading over soon.
Ezra packed up his bag with a machine-like efficiency—most of his supplies were in a black duffel from the couple of public events he’d gone to—and within half an hour, he was ready to leave. He’d gotten the okay from Kai, so getting the fuck out of Oakland was in his best interest right now. Rick had already managed to scare away his date earlier in the week, and here he was wrecking Ezra’s day off.
Kai had a studio apartment in the SOMA district, which had to cost a pretty penny. Ezra had no idea what Kai did for work or hell, where he was from, but the guy had struck his curiosity. He drove through the far-too-familiar streets of San Francisco, loving and hating being back in the same breath. The things he remembered fondly about the town always warred with growing up close to it and the bad memories that followed.
Ezra tightened his grip on the wheel as he slid into street parking a few blocks down from where Kai’s apartment was supposed to be. If he made more than EMT wages or trusted someone enough to live with them, he’d be out of Oakland faster than he could take his next breath, if only to steer clear of whatever bullshit Rick was getting up to .
He hopped out of his car and hiked his bag over his shoulder. It thumped against his leg as he headed in the direction of Kai’s apartment. Who knew, with his current streak of luck, he’d show up at Kai’s, and the building would be on fire. His limbs still felt a little detached, his body a little separate, but he’d turned up Propagandhi on the drive over and belted out the lyrics to song after song until his throat was raw. One of the small ways he’d found to reclaim himself.
He entered the building and climbed up to the second floor. It was a decent place, one of the newer builds of compact studio apartments that crammed as many as possible into one massive building. The paste-white walls didn’t showcase filth like his apartment, and it wasn’t the typical above-a-pizza-joint place either. He stopped in front of number twelve and knocked on the black door.
The door opened, and Kai stood in the frame.
The sight of him knocked the breath from Ezra. Before, when they’d met, he’d been more put-together, but today, he wore gray sweats and a black tee, his hair was tousled, and his feet were bare. If anything, that was even hotter. Except something was a little more worn about Kai today than the first time they’d met, like he was frayed around the edges.
“Going to let me in?” Ezra asked. Coming here had been the best decision. Perfect distraction from the bullshit he’d left at home.
“Oh, uh, yeah.” Kai stepped away from the door and swept his arm. His movements put that lithe body on clear display, and ngh. Yeah, those sweats revealed a decadent ass.
Ezra walked inside, which was more of the white walls with pale wood furnishings. The late afternoon sun streaming through the windows cast the area in a warmth and brightness he envied. Not like he’d be able to ever touch the light .
“Gorgeous place.” He placed his bag by the two-seater kitchen table in eye view of the bed. His apartment might be double in space, but it was also rotting from within. However, he could guarantee the rent was cheaper.
“I got lucky when I moved to town,” Kai said. “Not like I’ll be able to stay here forever with my current wages.”
Ezra sank into one of the seats and rested his arm back behind him. “What’s your deal?”
Kai lifted a brow. “Thought we were going to talk kink?”
“Humor me.” Ezra needed to distract himself somehow, but to be honest, he was curious about the guy too. Kai was hot as fuck, and if there were even the slightest submissive bone in his body, Ezra would be all over that. Not like Ezra hadn’t tried bottoming or subbing, but it hadn’t been for him. Anytime he attempted, it wreaked havoc on his dysphoria and didn’t turn him on in the slightest or calm him down.
Kai sat opposite him. “I should offer you a drink or something, sorry.”
Ezra shook his head. “I’ve got a water bottle in my backpack, so don’t worry about me.”
Kai scrubbed at his cheeks. “Fuck, it’s embarrassing to be so new to goddamn everything in this scene.”
“We’ve all been there, though, yeah?” Ezra nudged his foot against Kai’s. “Not like we pop out of the womb as master Doms or subs, you know?”
“Don’t make it weird, man.” A grin twitched Kai’s lips. “Now I can’t get baby Doms out of my head.”
“Sounds like a you problem. So, we’ve established you’re new to kink and new to the area. Anything else I need to be aware of? ”
Kai squirmed in his seat and averted his gaze. He wouldn’t fool Ezra . He’d gotten savvy with gauging when people were lying to him or at least avoiding topics. “As is probably obvious, I’m also a baby bi.”
Ezra pursed his lips. Kai had thrown that out as a distraction, but he wouldn’t pursue it further now. “That’s your business, sweetheart…unless, of course, you’re telling me as an invitation.”
Kai speared fingers through his hair, a pretty flush on his cheeks. God, he was delicious. If Ezra got the chance, he’d fucking devour him.
“My best friend would laugh his ass off if he saw me right now,” Kai muttered. “Back home, I was confident and shit in my bubble, thinking I was vanilla and straight.”
“Until you got tempted to taste the rainbow?” Ezra waggled his brows.
Kai shook his head with a groan. “God, your jokes are terrible.”
Kai hadn’t answered the question about an invitation being extended, but that was fine by Ezra. The guy was adjusting to some circumstances, and while his response hadn’t been a yes, it also hadn’t been a no.
“So, the biggest question I have for you is, what do you want from me?” Ezra pushed through to the reason Kai had contacted him in the first place. “If you want to just sit here and chat about domming, we can do that. If you want to practice, I brought a bag of toys and other implements. If you want to scene, I don’t sub, but if you’re interested in exploring another side than domming, I’m also open to that.”
Kai licked his lips. “Damn, you’re straightforward.”
Ezra shrugged. “Doesn’t help me to bullshit around.” After years of staying quiet, of being trapped in the wrong body, when he’d emerged from his chrysalis, he refused to be silenced again. “So, do any of those options appeal? ”
Kai shifted in his seat again, a gorgeous flush on his cheeks and his blue eyes the slightest bit feverish. “If I’m being honest…all of them. But maybe just the first two tonight.”
Ezra’s lips curled up in a grin. Fuck yes.
“Then let’s get started.”