The Dirty Saint (Dirty #1)

10. Chapter Ten

10

Chapter Ten

After

EZRA

I lay back on my bed in nothing but a t-shirt and lace thongs, remembering the feel of his hand as it grazed my skin and the way it traveled from my lips all the way down to my sensitive area. I drag a finger down the center of my breasts, hovering over the entrance to my opening. My breath quickens. It has been a moment since I have felt pleasure.

I close my eyes, imagining Joey running his hands up and down my body, fitting them in every line and crevice. For a man that most would deem cold, his touch was always warm and electric.

I imagine his voice in my ear, whispering sexy words of affirmation, setting every inch of my skin on fire.

As I rub my throbbing clit, my brain begins to swirl with images of him. I can feel the orgasm start to build, and I can feel it in my bones as if it is a part of me. But as much as I am itching for it, I would like for this moment to last.

They don’t come very often.

As I brace myself for the tip of the iceberg, a smile creeps onto my face. Beautiful is too elegant a word for what Joey and I did to each other, but our fleeting moments were special nonetheless.

He and I cared very deeply for one another. It was hard not to notice the sizzling chemistry between us. God knows I fought it as long as I could, but at some point, not only could I not fight it anymore, but I didn’t want to.

Before Joey, I hadn’t been happy in a long time. I wanted to be, but no matter what I did, I never was. I was mourning my husband and the man who became my son’s father. I was forced to be everything for a little boy who I prayed to god I wasn’t fucking up. However, I knew that with me being his mom, he was destined to be a tiny bit.

Joey made me happy. He brought out a side of me that I often hid away due to fear and shame. But I didn’t have to worry about being too much when I was with him. I knew that he knew I was enough.

Finally, growing impatient, I insert two fingers inside me.

Suddenly, I am screaming out Joey’s name as if it is the only word in my vocabulary. I weave them in and out, riding the orgasm as long as I can.

When I am done, I lean back in bed, letting out an exasperated sigh.

After a few minutes pass me by and reality nips at my skin, I get up and gather my sheets. I roll them into a ball before throwing them into the washing machine. I then take a nice warm shower.

Alone.

* * *

The smell of sweaty bodies and hard work hits me like a shitload of bricks.

When I walk inside, the first thing I notice is a younger woman flirting with an older man. A gold wedding band glimmers off his finger, and I have to fight to hold back a snort.

She does have a nice ass, though.

Once I find a quiet spot, I put my stuff down in front of a hanging bag. I take a quick peek at the makeshift ring to the right of me, nodding at its appearance.

“My oh my, is that the Ezra Maya?”

I smile as I turn around.

“It’s good to see you too, Morton.”

He pulls me in for a hug, and I don’t protest.

“How have you been? I haven’t seen you in forever.”

“I will fill you up with my cum and then beat you as I watch it trickle down your legs.”

I snap back to reality. “I’ve just been really busy with Noah.”

Morton looks at me, and I smile.

Sometimes, lying is the only way to protect the people you care about.

“Well, I’m glad you’re back. I could definitely use someone to help deflate the male ego running rampant in this place. It makes the gym smell like horseshit.”

I laugh. “I’ll do my best, but we both know Brianne is much better than me at making men cry.”

I note the quick change of expression on Morton’s face. Though he’ll never admit it, he is deathly afraid of my cousin.

Most people are.

“Yeah…Well…Anyways, I know Max Porter has been dying for a good fight.”

I stifle a gag at that name. “That guy’s such a tool.”

“I agree, which is why I’d like you two to spar. It’s time a well-trained fighter kicks his damn ass.”

Who am I to say no to that?

“Deal,” I say. “Just give me a time and place, and I’ll be there. Oh, Morton, make sure to tell him not to go easy on me. I would hate for Porter to think he ever had any real shot.”

During

JOEY

I run up to Ezra and scan her body for injuries.

“Did he hurt you,” I ask.

She is chewing on a granola bar with her back against the wall. “What do you care?”

Ignoring her, I repeat myself.

“I asked if he hurt you.”

She throws the wrapper at my feet. “I know.”

“Answer me then,” I demand.

“No.”

“What do you mean ‘no?’” I snap.

“What I mean,” she says, angling her body to face me, “Is that I am not going to confide in you when something happens to me. God, you’re such a prick.”

“I just defended you back there, and this is how you repay me? By calling me a name?”

“Were you expecting a lollipop?”

“Ugh, you are such an ungrateful brat,” I bark.

Ezra forces a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “And you’re still a prick.”

She turns away from me as if we are done with this conversation, but we aren’t.

“Whose blood is on your shirt?”

She shrugs. “I don’t remember. It’s days old.”

“No. It isn’t. It’s barely dry.”

“Well, what the hell do you think happens when some blonde-haired abuser lays his hand on you? You think the blood just stays up there, in your body, like some scared little puppy dog?”

Cringing at the thought, “What else did he do to you,” I ask.

“Nothing.”

“Ezra—”

“I’m pretty sure I already answered you.”

“Ezra!” I scream.

She shakes her head, “He reminded me that I no longer want to be alive.

“There. That satisfy you enough?”

I take a step forward and watch as she resorts back to the wall behind her. I try not to let it sting.

“You shouldn’t have stopped him,” she insists. “You should have let him keep going.”

“He was hurting you!” I holler.

“Oh,” she screams. “Like you?”

“Don’t make me out to be like him,” I snap.

“You see this?” Ezra rattles her restraints. “You did this!”

I know.

“And now you wanna stand here and play the good guy? Are you shitting me?”

No.

“Get out.”

“What?”

“I said get out!”

“Do not talk to me like that.”

“I’ll talk to you however I want,” Ezra recoils. “You aren’t the boss of me.”

I roll my eyes, my cheeks flushing with anger. What a stubborn, stubborn girl she is. Always trying to reclaim control as if she ever had it in the fucking first place.

“Let me tell you, Ezra, you are playing a dangerous game.”

“I can handle it. Now get the hell out of my cell.”

“Excuse you,” I growl.

“You heard me.”

“You’re damn right I did,” I snap. “Who do you think you’re talking to?”

Ezra inches her face closer to mine. “I am going to say this one more time, and then you’re gonna have to pry my jaw open to get me to speak. Leave my fucking cell now.”

I don’t even register what I am doing until I discover myself with my hand wrapped around her throat.

“Do it,” she urges. “Choke me. Cut my oxygen off. End my miserable existence in this miserable place.”

“What about your son,” I whisper against her skin.

Ezra’s lips form into an expression of disgust. “How the fuck do you know about my son?”

“The same way I know everything about you,” I release my grip only slightly. “You have four siblings: Nathaniel, Aurelia, Beatrice, and Jude. Your best friends are Nathan Bard and Brianne Maya, who is your cousin. Your parents, Giselle and Rob Maya, have been together for over thirty years, and you’ve always staked out your own long-lasting love, but you come up short in every relationship.

“The last serious relationship you were in was with a man named Christian Asher, who you met after you were kicked out of your home at seventeen when your mother found out you were pregnant. In fact, Giselle Maya was so angry about the whole situation that she almost killed you and the baby.

“Should I keep going?”

Ezra bares her teeth, seething.

“Okay. What else…Oh, yeah, so you married Christian, and the two of you raised your son, Noah Asher Maya. However, you both knew that one day, Noah would start to ask questions, and you couldn’t lie to your child about the fact that Christian was not the real father. Because that would be Caleb Santo, the man who you allegedly killed.

“But none of that really mattered then because Noah was young, and Christian wasn’t going anywhere. That was until he started growing more anxious and depressed and then one day, he swallowed a full bottle of pills and fell asleep in the bathtub, thus drowning himself. Leaving you to raise Noah all on your own.

“You see, Ezra, I know more about you than you realize. Your favorite color, your favorite movie, your favorite drink, none of that really tells you anything about a person. They’re the surface-level things, but they aren’t the defining factors. No, those are the events that force you to evolve and adapt, changing you.”

“Are you done,” she whispers.

“As of now.”

Ezra bobs her head up and down in acknowledgment.

“It’s funny, you say you know everything about me, but let’s be honest with each other, you aren’t 100% positive about what happened to Caleb. That’s why I’m here, to hopefully give you answers. And yes, you may know about Noah, Christian, and my mother, and that doesn’t exactly sit well with me, but what does is the fact that you still have no clue where Caleb Santo is. Because you see, Joey, I have zero interest in recounting the past. I’ve moved on. Maybe whoever hired you should, too.”

I sneer. The idea of Michael Santo moving on is absolutely laughable. He is probably the most ruthless man I have ever met, and I have met a lot of ruthless men in my career.

“What are you laughing at,” Ezra asks.

Oh, pretty girl, you have no idea.

During

EZRA

I stare out at the wall with my knees hugged to my chest.

I think of Noah and how hard this must be for him, not knowing where I am—not knowing if I’ll ever come back. Honestly, he’s six years old, so he probably has no idea what’s going on, and somehow, that makes me feel worse, not better.

“Touch yourself, Ezra.”

And there’s the end of my break.

“Tono, don’t you have something better to do? Don’t you have—like—hobbies, maybe?”

No answer.

As he comes closer to me, a feeling of eeriness stings my skin.

“Back away,” I demand. “Don’t you fucking come near me.”

Chills run up and down my arms as Tono pulls down his boxers, his cock on full display. I watch him fumble with his erection.

I bite down on a scream when his fingers brush my opening, knowing that I shouldn’t let my enemy see my fear.

“You don’t have to do this. I won’t tell anyone. I promise.”

“Please, Tono,” I say frantically. “Do you have a family? Children? Tono, do not do this. I am someone’s daughter. Tono!” I pull on my shackles, letting them dig even further into my skin. When he spreads my legs wide open, it takes everything out of me not to explode. “Look at me,” I beg. “Tono, look at me. Don’t do this. Please.”

I feel like I’m seventeen again, losing any and all control.

I need to take some power back.

“I’ll, I’ll do it,” I say softly.

Tono looks at me, confused.

“I will touch myself and will even let you watch. As proof. But only if you promise not to come anywhere near me. Do we have a deal?”

Silence fills the air.

For a moment, I think Tono is going to spit in my face and then laugh at me, but he does neither of those things. He simply nods.

I breathe a heavy sigh of relief.

Shaking, I unbutton my pants, sliding them down to the floor. Then, I hook my fingers inside my underwear and pull them to my knees. The whole time, I can feel his eyes on me.

“You ready?”

I close my eyes, inhale deeply, and then stick two fingers inside my vagina. It burns; I haven’t fingered myself or been fingered in a long time. But slowly, I weave them in and out. Tono smiles.

He’s the only one.