Chapter 23 JACQUES
There was no greater pain than seeing Ezra hurt, and I didn’t want to be the one who’d hurt him. I’d forced him to witness me shooting three people—it had all happened so quickly. I’d made the decision, knowing it was the fastest route to safety, even if it would mentally pain him.
I knew a lot about making the brain happy.
Dopamine hits and serotonin rushes. They were all things I could get him, or at least deliver.
The first part being a suggestion from Maya.
Once we were at his apartment, he was already happier to see his place.
Then I got him with the sugar, and lots of it.
I helped him to a soda, followed by pancakes with syrup.
And then came a knock at the door.
Through the peephole, I saw the FBI agent, Dina.
“Mr. Cross,” she called out.
Ezra was in the bedroom, and unaware this was happening.
I opened the door, still in the guard’s outfit, my hand on the gun at my waist. “What do you need?”
“I’m just here to make sure Ezra’s okay,” she said. “We heard there was a shooting in the underground parking bay.”
“Okay, he’s fine,” I told her. “And where were you today?”
“We were there,” she said, smirking at me as if she’d gotten one over me. “It’s our job to go unnoticed at those things. But we’re pleased with the outcome. We were also investigating a case of police misconduct, a bribery case relating to Victor Pemberton.”
“And?”
“Well, we lost our lead agent on that case. Kalen O’Ryan,” she said. “He up and left the agency. Not heard from him since.”
Shacking up with one of the Bianchi brothers. Now I had one over on her. “Very sad,” I grumbled. “Ezra is fine. I’m fine. We’re getting ready to leave the country. Is there anything else you need from us?”
She shook her head. “You know, you’re still—”
“On the no fly list?” I asked. “I had that record removed.” Thanks to Runa. “And we’re going private.”
“One day, I’m going to figure out what you have over people,” she said. “People seem to drop at their knees and overturn decisions for you.”
I didn’t have the heart to tell her that most of it was illegal, and the men who dropped to their knees did so willingly—and there would only be one man on his knees for me now.
“Everything okay?” Ezra asked, standing by the post that separated the living space from the kitchen with a view to the front door. “If she needs to take my statement . . .”
“That’s everything,” she said. “Have a nice vacation.”
Once the door was closed, I could take a sigh of relief. I reassured Ezra, and then told him to pack. I hadn’t planned much, but I knew I could make that call to Mercy and have a private jet ready at almost any airport or airfield in the state.
I walked up behind Enzo as he was packing a suitcase. He turned before I had the chance to grab him, his wide eyes, staring at me.
“I want to ask you something, and you can say no.”
“Okay.” His soft voice trembled slightly.
“Stay with me,” I said. “I don’t have a ring or a plan. I just know that three months ago—four months, whatever—you were a stranger, and now I can’t imagine a world where you’re not mine.”
He smiled. “Yours?”
“Yes, mine.”
“Like a possession?”
“In a way,” I said. “But I’d be yours too. Mutually owned.”
He threw his arms around me, doing his best to squeeze. “I’ve already agreed to come with you.” He kissed at my chest, exposed from the unbuttoned shirt. “You don’t have to ask.”
“Did you hear what I said?” I asked.
“Yeah, you want to own me,” he giggled, letting go of me.
“That was part of it, but all marriages are ownerships,” I said. “I want to marry you, Ezra.”
His big eyes blinked slowly, as if processing the words that came from my lips. “Yes,” he said. “I thought you’d already asked.”
I kissed him, swooping him up into my arms and kissing him some more. “We were just playing house then, but now it’s official. We don’t have to pretend. We can get married, and—”
“Go back to Sugar Bay?” he asked.
“If that’s what you truly want.”
“It’s where you were happy,” he said. It hit like a knife to the chest. He’d seen me.
Really seen me. I had been happy there, smoking meats, walking through the trees, watching the river flow.
He cupped a hand to my cheek and brushed it along the side of my face where he wiped at the tear which had formed from the corner of my eye.
“I want you to be happy as well, you know.”
I kissed him again, screwing my eyes shut before squeezing a kiss to his cheeks. “I love you the most.”
“More,” he giggled, planting a sloppy kiss on me.
* * *
The private jet was waiting for us at Teterboro.
A car took us straight to the tarmac, and a small crew and the pilot were standing at the bottom of the steps.
It was a Falcon 7X. A gorgeous plane with cream-white interior, a long couch and a couple of comfy armchairs that could turn.
Ezra was stunned to silence when we boarded.
The hostess offered champagne, and we accepted gladly.
I knew Sanctum could pull strings, but these were the nicest strings that had ever been pulled for me before.
A note was handed to me before we set off. Ezra was too occupied with all the fun features of the seating to even notice I’d been handed anything.
It was from Mercy. “Enjoy your trip. Don’t be a stranger when you’re back.
Funds have been wired through accounts and you should have them deposited soon.
Keep me updated on your whereabouts. For your safety more than anything.
And I’ve heard Kael is coming back to New York soon.
I heard he’s been part of an art heist.” As if she needed to punch me in the gut while I was at my happiest. Kael was an ex, and my last serious relationship.
I’d be glad to stay clear of him. I had Ezra now, and he had me.
“I don’t think I’ve ever had this much leg room on a flight before,” he said, kicking his legs around.
“Make the most of it,” I said. “We won’t be doing this all the time.”
He giggled. “Then I’m gonna have as much fun as I can now.”
I scrunched the note up and the hostess appeared with a silver tray, collecting the trash from my hand. “Thank you,” I grumbled.
Ezra was still oblivious to it, now occupied with the champagne. “I bet it tastes nicer in France.”
“It does,” I said. “Get buckled in.”
He lifted his T-shirt, showing how he’d already strapped himself in tight. “I did it.”
We had a small adventure planned, just the two of us.
I was a man of my word, and my word was everything.
The jet was taking us to Paris, and from there, we’d go to Switzerland for my Swiss account, then on to Thailand, where we’d no doubt lounge around and island hop before coming right back where I could get to smoking meat and actually making friends—maybe with different neighbors, but friends who weren’t always strapped.
Halfway over the Atlantic Ocean, Ezra grabbed me by the collar, throwing himself onto my lap. I’d been looking out of the window at the time, just admiring how vast everything looked.
“Is this cheesy?” he asked.
“You throwing yourself at me?” I asked. Absolutely not.
“No, I mean, wanting to join the mile high club,” he whispered, but it turned into a giggle. “Is it—can we?”
I looked around. The hostess on the flight was occupied and out of the way. I’d only been on a few other private jets, but in my experience the workers often blended right in, as if they appeared out of nowhere when you needed them, and right now we needed them to stay blended.
“We can go to the bathroom,” I told him. “It’s a little bigger than a regular airplane restroom.”
Jumping off my lap, he grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the restroom. I wasn’t going to say no to it. Besides, it was my first time too. And I couldn’t think of anyone better to punch that mile high card with than him.
The restroom was bumpy, and we spent more time figuring out how to Tetris our limbs into the right position for fucking.
We figured it out, and spurred on with nerves and excitement, neither of us lasted that long.
It was definitely an experience, and one that led to me having a cum stain up the front of my nice shirt.
At least we had a constant reminder of this trip for after it ended.
We cuddled on the couch before we were served dinner. Chicken and rice. It was delicious.
“I think you’ve changed,” he said.
“Really?”
He giggled and nodded. “Yeah, you’re soft now.” He poked at my arm.
“I haven’t worked out in a while, but I’m still a machine.” I flexed for him, but there was a noticeable difference. “Don’t worry, kitten. I’ll still protect you.”
He wrapped himself up against my arm. It was my favorite position he took against my body. “Love you,” he said, kissing my neck.
“Love you the most, baby.”
I could’ve happily gone back and forth with him for hours, in a match of who could say I love you the most. It was endless, in the best possible way. Endless like my love.
AN END . . .