Chapter 2
Ezra
Another day, another fucking job.
He tilted his head back as they waited for Charlie to come home from work. The idiot still hadn’t paid back his loan. No amount of strongly worded messages had convinced him, so the time had come to send in the heavies.
“When is he supposed to be here?” Ryker asked, fidgeting with his lighter. The clicking could get annoying real fast.
Ezra checked his phone. “Ten minutes ago.”
He swore under his breath. “Think he knew we were coming?”
“Who knows. Maybe he bolted.”
Ryker frowned. His intense scowl made him look scarier than he actually was. Well, he was scary to anyone who didn’t know him. “Fuckin’ hope not or we’ll be the ones tracking him down.”
“Yep.”
Ezra’s phone buzzed.
X
Has the message been sent?
“Shit. Xan is pissed.” Their boss never checked in this soon. Charlie had personally upset him which wasn’t a smart thing to do. Ezra had seen him cut off a man’s finger over much smaller debts. Back when he was just starting out in his life working for the infamous Xander Coughlin.
“This is how you make someone beg to pay you back.”
The memory sent a chill down his spine. Ezra wasn’t some innocent guy. He did the finger-cutting and roughing up now, but that first glimpse into this world had left an impression.
Ryker shifted in his seat, his light eyes intent like a predator that had just spotted prey. “There he is.”
“Thank Christ,” Ezra muttered as he typed a message back. He pocketed his phone and they both exited the van.
Charlie hadn’t noticed them and was still making his way through the alley to his apartment. A bit stupid to walk so casually when you owed twenty grand to someone like Xan. Ezra had only owed him a stolen dime bag, and that got him a five-year sentence of working as a heavy.
Two more to go.
He offered Ryker a nod. His companion withdrew a knife and rushed their target, pushing him flush against the brick wall. The man yelped, but knew better than to scream.
The stench of rotting trash wafted through the air as Ezra approached. He flipped Charlie around and held his own knife to his throat.
“Oh, I didn’t know you live here,” Ezra mocked. “Have anything for us?”
Sweat beaded up on Charlie’s gaunt face. He reeked of cigarettes and stale alcohol, as if he’d spent the last few days drunk.
“N-n-no… but I’ll have it tomorrow.” He managed to get out.
Ezra ran the tip of the blade down his cheek, watching as he shuddered. Doing this used to bother him more, but he’d become numb to it.
“Always ‘tomorrow’.” Ryker parroted. “Who you gonna get twenty-five from on such short notice? Anyone we know?”
Xan did have a local rival, but the chances of this guy getting himself in even deeper were slim. Especially since Davidiuk would have taken a finger after the second reminder.
Charlie’s glossy eyes went wide. “Twenty-five? But I only borrowed twenty!”
Ezra leaned in, pressing the knife up under his jaw. “Interest is a bitch, ain’t it?”
Ryker grabbed Charlie’s hand and observed his fingers. “Which one do you think is best as a late fee, Ez?”
Their target tried to wrench his hand away with a pathetic squeak. “No! Don’t!”
The stink of piss mingled with the rot, burning the back of his throat. It took everything in him not to gag.
“I think the message has been received,” Ezra said.
He released their pathetic catch and watched him stumble away. Charlie kept his attention on them over his shoulder, just in case they changed their minds about letting him go.
Ryker slipped his blade back into its sheath and covered it with his coat. “Tag his car. Fucker is gonna bolt.”
Ezra pulled a tracker from his pocket and slapped it to the underside of Charlie’s beat-up sedan. The bottom was so rusted out, he wasn’t sure if it would hold.
“Wanna get a bite?” Ryker asked.
“I’m picking this time.”
“Fine.” He rolled his eyes. “No Korean places open this late anyway.”
The man loved Asian food. It didn’t matter where it came from—he was going to eat it and drag Ezra along. It was fine, but he was more of a burgers and fries guy.
They got in Ryker’s car and drove to Stacy’s Diner. It was the only place close by that would be open at 11 p.m.
Once seated in their regular booth with worn, faux-leather benches, he pretended to read the menu. He got the same thing every time.
Their waitress, Leilani, knew it judging by the side-eye she was giving as she approached. “What can I get you tonight? Anything different?”
Ezra leaned back and draped an arm over the seat. Leilani was cute, but she was a little too young. She might be old enough to drink, but it was hard to tell. Regardless, he was twenty-eight and would rather hook up with someone his own age.
“Always the same, sweetheart,” he said.
She lifted a brow, scribbling on the notepad in her hand. Her blonde curls bounced with each flick of her wrist.
“And you?” She turned her attention to Ryker. “Feel like being adventurous today?”
Ryker wasn’t as flirtatious. “Not unless you have kimchi hiding in the back.”
Leilani tipped her head to the side. “Kim—what? No. Just fries and stuff.”
He pushed his palms against his eyes, clearly frustrated that the waitress had never heard of his favorite fermented cabbage. He would let something dumb like that get in the way of hooking up. And the way Leilani eyed him made Ezra think she was definitely interested.
“Pancakes and bacon,” Ryker said finally.
Leilani bobbed her head as she jotted down the order and walked away.
“I don’t get it,” his friend muttered. “How is kimchi still so fucking foreign?”
Ezra rolled his eyes. “Don’t get all bent out of shape.” He pulled up the tracker app on his phone and found it was still parked. Good.
“Yeah, yeah.” He stretched his arms. “You see that chick from the bar lately?”
Hannah. It wasn’t serious. She’d stopped responding to texts a few weeks back. “Nah. I think she moved on.” He had no room to let anyone in besides a casual fuck here and there anyway.
Leilani returned with their usual drinks—coffee for Ezra and a Coke for Ryker. She lingered for a second while setting Ryker’s drink down, maybe hoping he would take notice. But there was no reaction beyond a casual “thanks”.
While stirring sugar in his mug, he asked, “Your pops still good?”
Ryker snorted. “Only because he’s on lockdown. Hard to lose more shit when no one lets you go off by yourself.”
Unlike Ezra, Ryker was stuck in the job over his dad’s debt. Two years ago, he’d made a deal with Xander Coughlin to save his dad’s house. His term was eight years, and he wasn’t sure how his friend would handle it when he had to get a new partner.
Ezra’s first partner had skipped town like a dumbass and paid the price. Then he got landed with Ryker. This guy could save a kitten and crush a man’s hand in the same day. They had been total strangers at the start, but they quickly found they worked well together.
Even with his insistence on making him try every food under the sun.
Leilani arrived with their meals and they settled into their quiet routine. The place was practically empty. A couple of drunks by the window, giggling, and random pop music were the only sounds in the space.
Ezra’s phone dinged as he took another bite of his limp fries.
“Ah, shit.”
As if he knew exactly what had happened, Ryker sighed. “He won’t get far. Let me finish my plate of diabetes.”
It was true and he was in no rush to dole out the next punishment.
So he set his phone down and kept eating.