Chapter 19
CHAPTER 19
S arah shoved Ezra out of the plush lounge to the outdoor balcony close to where Mr. Jones stood. Sometime during the confrontation between Chaz and Mr. Jones, one of Mr. Jones’s henchmen pushed a rye-laced Coke in his hand and told him to knock it back. The drink left Ezra tipsy and feeling no pain.
“Your Mr. Smith is right here. He’s fine. He’s been well entertained by my friends. I think he’s decided to remain with me.”
“Like fuck he will.” Chaz’s surly voice soothed Ezra’s fuzzy nerves. “I did not waste my fucking day chasing after fucking douchecanoes, only for you to tell me that. He’s in fucking pain, and I’m gonna get him to a hospital. Asshole.”
“See… I’m not sure you realized the problem. Ezra is up on the balcony with me. And you’re down there alone? You’re on my property. I mean, it’s looking good for me. What could go wrong?” Mr. Jones shrugged. The words rolled off his tongue so easily, and Ezra understood without a doubt in his mind that Mr. Jones had done fucked up.
“Really now?” Evil delight slithered down Ezra’s back as Chaz spoke. Something about Chaz’s calculated tone rang his bells, and Ezra had to find out why. He imagined Chaz talking to him during sexy times. Albeit in a more positive fashion than whatever he had planned for Mr. Jones. “I’ve played by your rules long enough. I know this area fairly well. And if you’re so hip to the SPAM ways, you should have realized by now what question to never, ever ask me.”
“I’m not sure what you’re getting at. The game is done. Sure, you won. I’ll take these two men into my custody when I return to the city.”
“You think that’s gonna work?” Chaz asked, casting doubt. Mr. Jones visibly bristled. “Have you checked your vehicles? The weather?”
“What the fuck have you done?” Mr. Jones snarled. His patience had disappeared.
Ezra longed to see the expression on Chaz’s face as he played havoc on Mr. Jones’s plans. The goons who’d surrounded Mr. Jones weren’t as nice as Max and refused to budge. “Move!”
Mr. Jones ignored him.
“Was that Ezra? Let me see him,” Chaz demanded. Ezra sidled to the far side of the deck and leaned over. He was surprised to discover Ricky and George standing beside Chaz, who was sweaty and sexy as ever. His white T-shirt was streaked with dirt and grime, but he was here. Chaz’s face lit up when Ezra waved. Seeing Chaz soften was the best present Ezra had received. “You look good, Ez.”
“Bring Mr. Smith to the garage and wait for me there,” Mr. Jones ordered. Ezra balked at being treated like a child. He was done, and he decided to channel his inner Chaz.
Fat drops of rain began falling as unexpected dark clouds rolled in. Ezra gaped at the sky. He could have sworn it was clear only a few minutes earlier. It was a weird day already, with the fog in the morning followed by the misty shit. Followed by blue for days. Why wouldn’t the weather change course and start pouring?
“Jesus Christ.” Mr. Jones shook his hands out as the rain pounded down on him. “The weather network said nothing about this. What the hell did I just tell you to do? Get him the fuck away from here!”
Two men grabbed Ezra and dragged him back, ruining his moment of soaking in Chaz’s appearance. He fought briefly, but the motions made his stomach lurch. As fun as it would be to throw up anywhere near Mr. Jones, Ezra hated vomiting more than anything.
His captors led him through the sliding doors. The party crowd stopped talking the minute he entered the lounge. The moment was so awkward, a question popped out of his mouth. “Can I help you?”
Confusion filled the guests’ faces as questions bounced through the room. Ezra had never purposefully used his superpower as a weapon, and he wasn’t sure if he ever would again. The cacophony of voices was deafening as a dozen people began to crowd him, asking for impossible answers and easy ones.
“Do you know which lake has the most shipwrecks?”
“When are the Jays playing the Yanks?”
“Who’s the guy who destroys everything electrical?”
“Can you get to Nipigon from here without backtracking?”
“Where’s the bathroom again?”
Ezra did his best to answer everyone, but his head pounded from the avalanche of requests. Mr. Jones's goons were distracted, and Ezra sidled close to the door, hoping to make a dash for it. Maybe he did have the chops to be a SPAM agent.
“What the fuck is going on here?” Mr. Jones roared. The silence was immediate as everyone turned to stare at him. Ezra gaped. Mr. Jones was a mess. His face was dripping wet, and his perfectly coiffed hair was stuck to his cheeks and forehead. The linen suit clung to him like a barnacle. Ezra held back a chuckle. It was bad form to laugh at the person who'd orchestrated his kidnapping, but Mr. Jones looked like a waif as he stood with his hands on his hips.
“People needed some answers, and I tried to provide them, but…” Ezra started.
“You are not supposed to be in this room. You should be down—You know what? Get the fuck out. Just get the fuck out of here. I don’t want to see your goddamn face ever again. Jesus fucking Christ!” Mr. Jones yelled.
Ezra slunk away. Discovering what Mr. Jones’s tipping point was didn’t appeal to Ezra. Being with Chaz was the endgame, the final destination, and his reason for anything.
As he came out of the side door, he searched for a way to access the back patio. The rain was teeming, but it was warm and felt nice against his face. He turned his head, almost giving up when movement alerted him to the pool house. Chaz, Ricky, and George were taking shelter together.
“Um, Ricky? I think Mr. Jones is looking for you in the great room.” Dick move, but Ezra was past caring. They had no phone, no car, and no way to escape this mess. He didn’t want to share his last minutes talking to the ass who'd caused this problem.
Ricky paled to a grey-white colour as he glanced up at the main house. He shuddered before moving. His steps were slow and shuffling while heading to his doom. George followed close behind him. Ezra almost sympathized with them, but not really. His biggest wish was home and the opportunity to never think of this again.
Chaz stood in the rain, wearing a white T-shirt and white briefs. He was soaked and see-through in seconds. Ezra had never been to a wet T-shirt contest, but he was sure he’d enjoy one now after seeing Chaz in all his slick glory. Nothing mattered as Chaz enveloped him in the tightest bear hug a person could ever enjoy. Ezra snuggled in as best he could and breathed in the rich odour.
“You stink.”
“Don't care. Come on, Ezzy-baby, let’s motor.” Chaz released him to lead Ezra toward the front of the house. Ezra could still hear Mr. Jones throwing a fit.
“Shouldn’t we do something about them?” Ezra gestured wildly at the house. They were the good guys, and Mr. Jones admitted to kidnapping them.
“April will get someone to look into it. Right now, I have nothing. Jones and his people can twist in the wind or whatever.” Chaz brought him to the garage, where a large black vehicle sat. “Hop in.”
Ezra balked. This was theft. They could get in trouble. “I don’t know.”
“You want to see a doctor about your nose? Or do you want to wallow in pain for the next while as we try to convince the OPP about a party gone hellishly wrong? We’d be considered witnesses.” Chaz set the fob in a cup holder and smiled as the SUV roared to life. “That was harsh. I apologize. I just have to get away from this place.”
Ezra understood. He was on the cusp of being burnt out as well. Though a tiny part within still wanted justice. “I don’t think it’s fair someone died and no one’ll be charged.”
Chaz held up a small flip phone. “Stole this from a guard and placed an anonymous tip with Crimestoppers. The original Bigfoot will be found, and the crumbs should lead here. However, we needed to skedaddle before we become tangled up with them once more.”
“If you’re sure?” Ezra glanced back and could see nothing but rain. “This was not what I expected.”
Chaz tossed the small phone out the window before stomping on the gas. “What can I say? Always expect the unexpected with SPAM.”
“I can’t believe you mangled a Monty Python quote with SPAM,” Ezra grumbled. Chaz was here. Chaz was smiling and kissing the back of his hand. Ezra dropped his head on the headrest and took a deep breath. This was the best part of the day. Chaz holding his hand. Ezra never wanted to let him go. His heart swelled with unnamed emotions, and tears spurted to his eyes. Not that he’d let Chaz see. He didn’t need the added stress of Ezra’s whacked-out brain.
Once they found themselves on the main road, Chaz easily discerned where he was. They were ten minutes from the parking lot where Chaz had his truck. No one was around as they switched vehicles. And it was only when Ezra was sitting in his spot in Chaz’s truck that he began to relax. The tightness in his chest loosened, and he could see the broader picture.
“You feeling better? Want to hit up the ER for your nose?” Chaz asked. He held onto Ezra’s hand with a death grip as he aimed his truck south. “Whoever fixed you up did a good job.”
Ezra thought about it. He remembered Dr. Black suggesting he go to the emergency room for a true checkup. He also pictured the waiting area and sitting in uncomfortable chairs for hours. “Maybe tomorrow? After we sleep on it?”
“Sounds good.” Chaz drove for five minutes before continuing to speak. “I’m not going to say no if you do want to go. I’m not sure how bad you’re feeling, because honest to God, it looks awful.”
Ezra wrinkled his nose and winced as the pain flared. That wasn’t the brightest thing to do. It did help gauge his levels. He was more woozy and tired than hurt. As long as no one touched his face, of course. “Home, James.”
“You nutter.” Chaz nuzzled Ezra’s hand and drove to the cottage on the bay. Seeing Ezra’s car nestled and waiting for Chaz’s truck was a relief. The stress from the weekend was all but gone.
“Come on. I need to wash this crap off me.” Chaz charged the house, unlocking the door, and immediately began stripping what little he had on. His bare body was marked with nicks and scratches that made Ezra wince. The tight ass had him swooning more.
“You’re leaving the clothes on the hardwood?” Ezra squawked as he bent down to pick up the white briefs.
“Ignore them! I’m tossing them once I’m done. Join me!” Chaz called. Ezra scratched his head, overwhelmed at how fast Chaz moved. “Ezra, come on!”
Ezra set the damp clothes in the kitchen sink, unwilling to let them remain on the floor. He walked up the stairs where he could hear the shower turn on. As he stepped into the big bathroom, he coughed at the sight of both a shower and a separate tub filling up. The amount of water being used seemed wasteful.
“What’s going on?” Ezra leaned on the doorframe, feigning a nonchalance he did not have.
“Getting most of the forest and sweat off. Then I’m going to soak.” Chaz came over to Ezra and tugged on the borrowed clothes. He was gentle as he undid the buttons, but the shorts were ripped off. “Nothing will happen other than a soak in hot water. I promise.”
“It’s—I’m a little scared,” Ezra admitted as he allowed Chaz to nudge him under the hot spray. The pinpricks of heat did wonders to his sore muscles as he let the water rain down on him. Maybe this was a good idea. Chaz looped his arms around Ezra’s waist and rested his chin on Ezra’s shoulder. Ezra felt the half hard cock against his ass and relaxed. If Chaz wasn’t steel, then he didn’t mean to go any further than a snuggle. Ezra could handle that.
Once the sweat and pine residue had been rinsed off them, Chaz turned the tap and gave Ezra a small towel to get rid of the drips. The soaker tub across the room was steaming and almost full. Ezra stared at the white enamel and back to Chaz.
“It’s okay. Honest, if it wasn’t pissing outside, I’d be in the bay. But needs must, and this is the next best solution. If this is too much, take a nap on my bed, make a tea, but decompress. Do not dwell on anything. Once we’ve had a minute to breathe, we can talk,” Chaz suggested. Ezra nodded. All his ideas sounded great, especially the drink.
But he didn’t want to hurt Chaz’s feelings if he didn’t get in the tub. God, where was the sign to tell him what to do?