6. Chapter 5
He loosened his grip on the woman’s shoulders, opening his mouth to say something until she turned to scowl at him.
Whatever he was about to say faded because not only was she beautiful with her fire-red hair and scattered freckles, she was also downright pissed off at him.
She glared at him through the sunlight shining from the giant arched windows lining the corridor.
The hazel flecks in her eyes reminded him of an autumn forest he wanted to stroll through, even if the forest was furious with him.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” she asked, her brows knitting together as she fumed. “Why weren’t you watching where you were going? Ho—”
Before he could whip some witty one-liner from his back pocket, a rough voice shouted down the hall.
He tore his gaze away from her over his shoulder and cursed under his breath when two burly men wove through the crowd with their focus fixed on him.
“Shit, I gotta go. Sorry.” He released his grasp on the woman, her warmth slipping away from him, and bolted for the archway, slipping on shards of clay before regaining his balance.
“Hey!” she called out one more time as he ran.
He took a sharp turn, and as he ran through one of the corridors, another man was trailing after him.
Fucking hell, he did not have being chased by his father’s grunts on his docket for the day.
He turned around and spotted a door leading to a stairwell.
Either used by employees or railroad club members who had a few levels of lounges above the station, most likely. But now it was his escape.
Ezra pushed the doors open, the handle on the back slamming against the wall with a loud echo.
He had less than ten minutes to lose them to still make his train.
Instead of going down the stairs, he ran up.
And up. And up farther. The clatter of footsteps below grew closer.
His lungs burned, and a cramp formed in his side.
Maybe he should’ve spent more time on the treadmill during the summer.
When he reached the top of the sixth floor, he leaned against the railing to catch his breath, wiping the sweat from his forehead with the sleeve of his sweater. The door next to him swung open to show another grunt walking in.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Ezra panted. “What do you guys want?”
But the man, who was at least half a foot taller than him, pinned him with a deadly stare and grasped his sweater in a tight fist. The man slammed him against the wall, and Ezra coughed as air forced itself from his lungs.
The other three climbed the stairs, looking just as tired as he felt, and the door to his left swung open again.
“Did he send the whole damn unit after me?” Ezra wheezed. But rather than another one of his father’s cronies, it was Declan.
“Release him,” his brother said, closing the hallway door with a soft click. He waved his hand over it, and the lock clicked into place.
The man released his sweater, and Ezra grimaced at the distorted fabric. Great. Now the neck of his favorite sweater was stretched out thanks to the buffoon. He rolled his eyes before flicking his attention to Declan.
“What is this all about? I’m doing what Father said.”
“It’s a reminder,” he said. “One misstep. One. I’ll know about it, and you’ll be getting a visit from them.”
Ezra shrugged with a smirk twisting on his face. “Being threatened with violence is always a good morale boost.”
“You can play this act all you want with me, Ezra,” his brother muttered. “But you know what’s on the line if you fuck it up.”
The grin fell from his face.
“What’s your task?” Declan asked, his blue eyes pointed harshly at him. Before Declan fully embraced his role, they could’ve been mistaken for twins. Now they acted as associates rather than brothers.
Ezra sighed, pushing himself away from the wall. “Erasing any trace of missing students.”
“Good. You do this right, you’ll get the freedom you want,” Declan said before turning back to the door. He waved his hand, and the lock clicked again.
“Why am I doing this?” Ezra asked. He knew his brother probably wouldn’t tell him.
The loyalty to their father ran deep in Declan’s veins.
But there was a time when they could trust one another, when they relied on one another as brothers.
He wanted to believe it was something they could get back to, even if it was foolish.
But he was like his mother—always hoping for something better.
Declan stopped and peered over his shoulder. “Did the summer of drinking and sleeping around the city mess with your mind? You’re doing it to get what you want. Your fr—”
“I know what I’m getting out of the deal,” Ezra said firmly. Whether his father would uphold his end was another matter. “I don’t understand why he would let go of me so easily after everything.”
Declan remained silent for a moment before tipping his chin at the other four men in the room. “Leave us. I need a moment alone with my brother before he goes.”
One of the men opened their mouth to argue. “But—”
“Now,” he said through gritted teeth.
The four men looked at each other before exiting through the doors. Once they closed again, Declan stepped closer, his square jaw clenching as if he were deciding the right words to say.
“There’s something at the school Father wants. Something powerful. Powerful enough that once he has it, he won’t require your magic.”
Ezra scoffed. “And you think he’ll just let me go?”
“Yes,” Declan said, the hard line of his mouth turning down, as if he didn’t believe himself.
“I don’t know if it will be that simple.” Ezra stepped around his brother, moving toward the stairs leading back to where his train would be waiting.
“Wait.”
Ezra turned around and waited for Declan to continue, but when he was met with silence, he shrugged. “We used to talk to each other. Tell each other things to protect ourselves from him.”
“I know,” Declan said, clenching his fists at his sides.
“Then what aren’t you telling me now?” The words came out as if the grunt’s grip was still pressing on Ezra’s chest. Tight and restricted. “What are you keeping secret?”
“Nothing,” Declan said firmly, his nostrils flaring as he held back his frustration. “I can’t tell you what I don’t know. You think because I’m older, it means I’m privy to our father’s games, but I’m not. I do my job, and that is it. I don’t get in his way, or ask questions, or squabble, or—”
“And I’m squabbling with him?” His voice cracked. “I got in his way?”
Declan’s jaw tightened, and he turned to the door again. “We’re not children anymore, Ezra. Do your job. Then you can forget all about us.”
“Fine.” Ezra stumbled backward, his side bumping against the railing, as if there was a literal rift between them growing wider. He watched his brother walk out of the stairwell and, with the final click of the door shutting, he let the tears come to the surface before walking down the steps.