The Dirty Saint (Dirty #1)

2. Chapter Two

2

Chapter Two

After

EZRA

Sitting across from Michael Santo, I knead my hands together and place my elbows on the table. I then take a deep breath in and let a deep breath out.

“I’m guessing you met my man,” he says.

“I did,” I answer. “Though I didn’t appreciate him trying to weasel his way into my home where, might I add, your grandson sleeps.”

Michael smiles, and it takes everything out of me not to reach across the table and bash his head against it.

“Well, you’re here now, and that’s all that matters, Ezra Evaline.” He uses my middle name like I still belong to him.

“Let me make it clear, Michael, I came for me . You might have summoned my presence, but that doesn’t mean shit. I am here on my own accord,” I snap. “And don’t you fucking forget it.”

He doesn’t get to make decisions for me anymore .

I am the one in control now.

“Anyhow,” I ask, “What is the point of this visit, if any?”

Michael Santo looks at me, but he doesn’t make a sound.

“Now you want to keep your mouth shut?” I bark. “Really? After everything you put me through, now is the time you have nothing to say? About anything?”

More silence.

Growing angry, I grab Michael’s wrist and smash it against the table as hard as I can.

“ Answer me,” I demand.

“You should be in prison for what you did to my boy,” he spits. “You and I should fucking swap places.”

“You have nothing ,” I remind him. “Except for a drugged-up confession made in a paid hitman’s basement.”

Michael shakes his head, disgust written all across his face.

“And if I remember correctly,” I inch my face closer so he can feel every word that escapes my lips, “Your boy Killian had his cock inside of me when the NCIS Agents busted down the door, which I very much remember not giving him the consent to. Similar to your son.” I drag out the last word.

If Michael Santo wants to continue to make me out to be the monster, then so be it. Whatever helps him sleep at night.

But I won’t let his son be the victim.

Michael rests his back on the chair. “It’s such a shame the way you turned out, Ezra.”

“Thanks.”

“It all makes sense now why your parents never loved you the way they did your siblings.” The prick smirks. “I guess they saw the things everyone else was too blind to.”

I nod. “You think you’re telling me something I don’t already know,” I laugh. “Your words mean shit to me. Because you can’t hurt me anymore. But hey, take your best damn shot.”

I cross my arms over my chest, smiling.

“Now tell me why you wanted to see me so I can get the hell out of here.”

“I want to meet my grandson,” Michael says deadpan. “I want to meet Noah.”

I feel my smile start to leave my face, fast. A wave of over protectiveness shoots through me, and I have to stand to release some of it.

“Guards?” I holler.

“Ezra—”

“I want out,” I bang on the door. “Let me out.”

“Ezra, please ,” Michael begs.

My heart is beating. The walls are closing in on me and I can’t breathe. I can’t breathe.

I can’t breathe. I can’t breathe. I can’t breathe.

“Ezra, I have a right to know him—”

I grip Michael Santo by his shirt collar, my voice as firm and unbreakable as steel. “The only right you have is rotting to death in this fucking cell. Get him out of here.” I wave to the guards.

They do as requested, and I make sure to thank them.

Then I get the fuck out of there.

During

JOEY

I stand behind the door, watching Ezra as she sleeps in the corner. Her chest is rising and falling, and her eyelashes are fluttering. She’s covered in dust and dirt, but that only brings out her features, not hides them.

I push certain thoughts away.

“You gonna say something or just keep staring at me as if I’m your next meal?”

My lips form a tight smirk, and I push off the wall with my foot.

“I was just beginning to ask you how you slept last night.”

The Lieutenant sneers.

“Like a baby. Hey, who knew getting kidnapped is a certified way to catch up on all your missed z’s?”

I laugh.

“You’re funny.”

“Oh, just you wait.” Ezra grins. “I’m a fucking comedian.”

She then rolls her eyes at me before shaking her head.

“You know,” I make my way towards her and readjust her chains, ignoring her groans, “You might have a decent sense of humor, but you’re lacking in the IQ area.”

“Gee. Thanks. What a kind thing to say to a woman, especially one you have a history of stalking and now taking prisoner.”

“Well, I never claimed to be kind.”

Ezra clicks her tongue. “Sorry. Forgive me for thinking you had a single redeemable quality about you. Seems as though I was wrong.”

Doing one final tug on the chains, I head over to the piss bucket in the corner, which I find is empty.

“What,” she shrugs.“I didn’t have to go.”

“That’s fine, but I would advise against doing your business in your pants. You aren’t getting a cleaning service down here.”

“Got it. Any other piece of advice you’d like to give me before you do god knows what with me? Or are you one of those sneaky bastards who have other people do their dirty work because they’re too afraid to get their hands bloody themselves? Honestly, I wouldn’t even be surprised. You give off pussy vibes.”

Out of all the people I have held in this basement, Ezra is the first to call me a name without a single detection of fear in her tone. It’s as if she thinks this is simply a game and I’ll show her my hands.

But I won’t.

And soon, she and her mouth will start to understand that.

“Well, what are you waiting for,” the Lieutenant asks. “Get on with it.”

I wag my finger. “You see, it doesn’t work that way. I don’t do anything at someone else’s request. And if I did, you most definitely would not be the one I listen to.”

Ezra nods. “No. Of course not. It’s cause I don’t have a dick. Then again, neither do you.”

“You won’t be saying that if I ram said-dick down your throat.” I shake my head. “But maybe it will finally get you to shut the fuck up.”

“Test it out then. Hey, I’ve got all the time in the world.” She chalks up a wad of saliva and spits at my feet. “But you might want to make it a quickie since your bitch just walked through the door.”

I whip my head around to see Dom stumble into the basement, anger written in the depths of his eyes.

“Why isn’t she half mangled yet,” he asks. “You growing soft there, Boss?”

Grinning, I raise my hand before slapping Dom right across the face. He grabs onto his cheek, his skin already becoming red.

“The fuck was that for,” he snaps.

“Guess I haven’t gone as soft as you think, now have I?”

Dom shakes his head. “Fucking asshole.”

“Why don’t you keep talking and see what happens?” I hoist him up by his shirt collar, his feed dangling above the ground. “Don’t whimper. It makes you seem like a child.” I let him go. “Now stay in your goddamn lane; otherwise, you won’t like what comes next.”

Friendly jabs at each other are one thing, but no boss likes to be belittled by their employee.

It doesn’t matter what the relationship is outside of work.

“So, are you done,” I ask. “Or should I plan out my next move?”

Dom looks at me, frustration radiating off his body. “My mouth is shut. But instead of focusing on me, I think we should be focusing on,” he points to Ezra, “Our new acquaintance.”

I nod.

“Good idea.”

Where to begin, however, is the real question.

“Should I start from the bottom and work my way up or…”

Ezra lets out a breath. “I don’t know, but I dare you to come closer to me with that knife.”

Tracing a finger across her thigh, I grin.

“So brave, are we,” I whisper. “Well, bravery doesn’t shield you from pain. It just you buy a little extra time before—”

“Before what? Before you finally shut the fuck up and actually put your money where your mouth is? Well, until then,” Ezra looks down at her fingernails, “I’ll be waiting for you to axe the training wheels and move on to a big-boy bike.”

Oh, Ezzie. Ezzie, Ezzie, Ezzie.

Be careful what you wish for.