15. Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Fifteen
E zra hadn’t been this comfortable in his skin around anyone else for ages.
He relaxed on the bed with Sloan and Kai, barely able to believe Sloan had given him another chance and that the three of them were sitting around talking about more.
His heart thumped, a hollow, pitiful thing that had lost willpower years ago. With the way he’d grown up, it was a miracle he’d even tried a few relationships, but those had fizzled out fast. He didn’t easily volunteer his past, wasn’t the type to offer, and eventually, his boyfriends and girlfriends grew tired of trying.
The only reason he’d given what he did to Sloan was because of the factor they both had in common.
Because if anyone understood what Rick’s brand of fucked up did to someone, Sloan would .
Warmth tingled through his body, making him want to claw at his skin. The cold was comfortable. Preferable. The sole thing he’d let spark through his veins was chasing oblivion for so long.
Sitting amid these two men and feeling at home in his skin was just…unfathomable.
An invitation for ruin.
“So, if you’re a switch, does that mean we can explore your subside sometime soon?” Sloan asked Kai, his eyes twinkling.
“You mean Ezra topping both of us? Or something else?” Kai asked, his eyes widening. “I’m assuming you don’t want to top me.”
Sloan laughed. “Fuck no.”
“Would you want me to cotop with someone else?” Ezra asked, his curiosity piqued. “I’m open for exploring.”
“Mmm.” Sloan tipped his head back, the sensual sound combined with the flutter of his lashes pure sex. “God, that sounds like too much fun. I might have a private night I could invite the two of you to.”
Ezra paid attention. Honestly, he’d take whatever scraps of time he could get with Kai and Sloan for however long this lasted. He wasn’t under any delusions. Like everything in his life, this would flicker out eventually.
His phone buzzed in his pants, and he hopped out of bed. He didn’t have a shift until tomorrow, but he also didn’t get that many messages. The friends he had at work he kept in their requisite “work friend” category, and he’d be happy to leave most people from his childhood behind with a match and gasoline.
Ezra opened the message, realizing who had sent it a moment later.
All good feels swirled down the drain.
Fucking Rick.
There are consequences .
His heart rate accelerated like he’d just escaped an accident, but based on the queasiness welling up inside him, he sure as fuck hadn’t avoided anything.
Ezra glanced up. Both Kai and Sloan stared at him from the bed. Moments before where he’d begun to creep forward, where he’d started to settle into their space, they now seemed miles away. No way could he tell Sloan who’d just messaged him. It’d fuck him up even worse, and Ezra wanted to protect the man with all his might. Hell, he wanted to protect Kai too. He couldn’t bear to see his brother taint Kai’s life as well.
He slipped his phone into his pocket and pulled his pants on. His arms trembled, but he bit the inside of his cheek until he tasted copper. Ezra needed to get out of here now.
“Uh, looks like I’ve got to pick up a shift.” He spat out the first excuse he could think of. “So I’d better head home to get changed.” He tugged his shirt on, the motions mechanical. All the life that had threatened to slam past the cement barrier it was trapped behind gave the fuck up.
He’d known it. Fucking known the second he chased any hint of happiness, his brother would ruin it.
If his brother wasn’t wrecking his joy, it was shitheads he’d grown up with, the fact that he’d been born into the wrong body, or even half the fucking country who wanted to ruin him just for existing.
Most days remaining alive was all he could manage. Was that even worth it?
“Ezra,” Kai called behind him, but he tossed a hand up as he walked to the door.
“I’ll talk to you soon,” he muttered. Lies. Lies. Lies.
Depending on what Rick might’ve meant, Ezra would need to steer clear of Sloan and Kai just to keep them safe .
Ezra’s mind emptied of thoughts as he ran to his car. Thank fuck he’d kept his handgun in his car. No way would he show up to his apartment without it. He slipped inside, turned on the ignition, and drove away.
The streets and buildings blended like a gray-scale wash of paint, bleeding everywhere on the canvas around him. Even though his body carried him forward to his apartment, his mind had vacated the premises.
Automatic was all he could work with as he drove over the Bay Bridge toward home. Traffic was shit at this time on a Saturday afternoon, but he hung in this state of suspended animation as his body just numbed and iced over. Pure Novocain, baby.
The rest of the ride, his phone remained quiet, but he’d expected that. Rick didn’t need to say more to drive his point home.
Denying him had consequences.
Fuck Rick and his goddamn fucking consequences.
Ezra pulled into a spot in front of his apartment, his heart slamming hard. He lifted his shirt to strap on his conceal and carry holster, then slipped his handgun in place. No way would he enter his apartment unprepared.
Even though entering his apartment might be a death sentence unto itself.
Growing up, Rick hadn’t been a sociopath. No string of animal murders around the neighborhood. His brother just had a mean streak that had only grown with age. With both their parents working to keep a roof over their heads, his temper had gone unchecked, and instead of learning consequences, Rick had settled into the crowds that fed his ego, his arrogance, and nurtured the mean streak until it turned violent.
Ezra had been the unfortunate bystander .
He stalked up the steps to his place, each one echoing a little louder. His veins thrummed like they were filled with gunpowder and all it would take was one strike to ignite.
When he reached his floor, he slowed and listened. The silence of the hall ached, only disturbed by muffled shouts and backfiring cars. His apartment was the third down, and the door appeared shut.
However, when he got closer, he saw it was slightly ajar.
His blood turned to ice. Whatever waited for him beyond the door wouldn’t be good. He knew it in his bones. Part of him wanted to turn around and walk away. Prolong the inevitable for as long as possible. But where would he go? He couldn’t drag Kai and Sloan into this.
He was alone. A fact that had been ever-present for him for a long while, but it deadened his insides more than ever in this moment.
He drew his pistol and pushed the door to his apartment open.
Before him lay the wreckage of the place that had once been his.
Not that he’d been in this apartment long enough to have a history with it, but…fuck. Broken furniture, splinters on the floor in every direction, ripped books, the pages in tatters on the ground. The shards of shattered plates created a minefield in his cramped kitchen. From the volume of destruction, it was clear Rick hadn’t torn through his place by his lonesome.
His stomach cramped, and he hadn’t budged from his doorway, his hand still on his pistol.
Fuck.
A wave of horror washed over him, the sheer violation of the sight holding him hostage. Sure, he didn’t have a lot of stuff he was attached to, but this was his space. Where he rested his head. And seeing how easily his brother had invaded it while he was gone…bile rose in his throat .
And he didn’t have the funds to replace everything they’d destroyed. This…hell, he didn’t know how to process any of it. Not like talking to Mom or Dad would do anything. They’d washed their hands of trying to intervene when it came to Rick years ago, and Ezra had a few-visits-a-year relationship as it was. Going to the cops seemed foolhardy. The situation might escalate when it came to gangs.
His fingers numbed, as did his toes. The buzzing in his mind grew to a roar.
He sank to his knees, right in the middle of the doorway. Cleaning this, putting it back together was so far from his reality he couldn’t move. Couldn’t do anything but stare at the sight before him in abject horror. He didn’t want to know what had been done to his room, his bathroom—oh, shit.
That roused him to stand, and he strode across the room in haste, focused on one thing alone.
He bypassed his open bedroom door, not even glancing inside, and burst into the bathroom.
Broken brown glass was in shards all across the floor. His stomach dropped.
Fuck. That fucking monster .
Helplessness rolled through his veins in a sickening sweep. His T lay shattered on the ground. Of course Rick would’ve targeted his testosterone. He clutched the doorframe so he didn’t fall. Rage and anguish surged through him, a complicated brew he choked on.
From day one, his brother had been a shithead to him, so it wasn’t a surprise he continued to be a monster about his gender too. But threatening him at gunpoint hadn’t sent the message clearly enough. No, Rick had rolled up with his latest fucking crew and taken apart his place .
And Ezra wasn’t rich with friends or support. He’d been clutching the same battered piece of driftwood as he got tossed around in an arctic sea that had been determined to wreck him from the start.
He swallowed, and his eyes stung. He couldn’t stop looking at those bottles smashed on the floor, as if Rick had dropped the landmines directly.
Ezra lowered to a crouch and rested his head in his hands as if he could black out the sight before him, erase it from memory.
But even with his eyes shut, all he saw were those tiny vials shattered on the ground.
Ezra didn’t cry. No, those tears had been scourged out of him a long time ago, but his whole body squeezed tight as if he’d turned into fragile glass, one blow away from breaking.
He didn’t know how long he crouched there, staring at the floor, but his legs ached. His arms ached. His soul ached.
His door creaked.
Ezra shot up, some dull survival instinct that he some days wished he could turn off.
“Ezra?” a far-too-familiar voice called.
His eyes widened, and he almost tipped forward.
“You in there?” another voice asked, and fuck. Why were they here?
He turned to face the front door right as Kai and Sloan walked in.
“Oh fuck.” Kai gazed straight ahead, locked and loaded on the damage to the apartment. Horror painted his features.
“Oh god.” Sloan clapped a hand over his mouth and backed a pace away. His blue eyes widened.
One of them knew what had happened, and Ezra hated that.
He must’ve moved forward because the floorboards squeaked.
A second later, Kai rushed in Ezra’s direction. He didn’t hesitate but threw his arms around Ezra and squeezed tight. The crush of Kai’s body to his, the warmth, the fucking care, was so disparate from what he’d been immersed in that Ezra gasped out like he was dying.
“What the fuck happened?” Kai asked, his breath hot against Ezra’s ear.
“Rick happened,” Sloan said, still rooted in place. He glanced around the room, taking in the abject damage. The ruination of the meager little life Ezra had made for himself here.
Maybe it was time to leave. To return to Sacramento. Coming back here had been from habit, not from any great desire to be around friends or family. Like a bruise he couldn’t stop pressing, he’d be in a tango with this city until it killed him.
“Holy fuck.” Kai squeezed Ezra a little harder. “Is this the guy you mentioned?”
“My brother,” Ezra said numbly.
“My ex.” Sloan closed the door behind him.
Ezra buried his head into the crook of Kai’s neck, selfishly taking the solace the man offered. His scent was unique, all citrus and cedar, and the sturdiness of him wrapped around Ezra was so alien he didn’t know how to process it. He’d been an island for so long he couldn’t remember the last damn time he even had a hug.
Approaching footsteps echoed, and Sloan stepped up behind him. He wrapped around him from behind, enfolding him in more heat and warmth as if it might stand a chance at reaching the icy core of him.
“Hey.” Sloan’s lips brushed against the back of Ezra’s neck. “We’ve got you.”
“We’re not going anywhere.” Kai clutched him tighter.
Oh god.
The warmth slammed against his walls, the fucking care given when no one else ever had .
These men didn’t understand the gift they offered.
He’d been parched, fucking parched for affection for so long, in his own insular world, and they’d come for him.
When no one else on this goddamned earth would, they’d come for him.
And even if this never lasted, even if they would end in ruin, like everything else in his life, in this moment, he was surrounded by a bone-aching warmth he’d never known the like of.
In this moment, someone truly cared.
The dam he’d been keeping erect for years shattered.
Hot, violent tears poured from him in sobs.