The Dirty Saint (Dirty #1)

23. Chapter Twenty-Three

23

Chapter Twenty-Three

After

EZRA

I didn’t forget it.

I wish I could, though. Wish I could burn it from my memory.

But I can’t.

“I am so sorry, Lana,” I stare up at the ceiling. “I am so sorry that I couldn’t deliver on my promises. It should’ve been me.”

I pull a photograph out of my bottom desk drawer, the twinge in my heart growing.

They were such a beautiful family.

At this moment, I know what I have to do. No matter how tough or painful, I have to do this.

Starting up my car, I fix my hair and tie it into a ponytail. I rub my eyes, trying to piece together in my mind what I should say. When I open them and catch my reflection in the rearview mirror, I have to take a pause.

I look so old, almost like I’ve been doused in years of pain.

No, Ezra. Don’t cry. You’ve cried enough.

But today is not about me. Today is about hopefully providing some sense of closure to people who will always have questions that can never be answered. Today is about expressing pride for a woman whose strength will stick with me for the rest of my life.

Pulling into the small driveway, I grab the cookies I made from the backseat. A huge part of me wanted to drink until I couldn’t feel anything, but that would probably only wind up making me feel worse in the end.

I notice the car in the corner covered in dirt. It doesn’t look like it’s been driven in a while.

Maybe it was Lana’s.

Taking a deep breath, I make my way over to the door, where I ring the bell and wait. Once I hear the knob twist, there is officially no going back.

“Hi,” I say awkwardly. “Is this the Pipperty house?”

Roy peeks his head out, notably confused at my presence.

“Hi,” he says reluctantly. “And yes. It is.”

I notice his guard is up, and for good reason.

Lord knows how much this man was told.

“Well, my name is Ezra Maya,” I fill in. “And I was,” I inhale a breath, “I was held in captivity with your wife.”

Roy turns to look at me, and it is then that I can see the sadness and the brokenness in his eyes. Hell, he’s just a child himself.

“So you saw her?” He winces. “You saw her die?”

I nod.

“Yes.”

A tear runs down his cheek.

“Was it quick?”

I pull at my thumb, waiting to hear it crack.

I don’t want to lie to the guy, and I didn’t come here to sugarcoat the truth. That would make me a monster, lying to a widow.

“It was,” I say as I suck on my bottom lip. “But she had been in a lot of pain before she was killed.”

Roy’s head falls to his hands as he starts to sob. I close our distance even more, rubbing his back softly and gently.

I feel like I’m hurting someone that I should be protecting. Here I am, spilling details about a horrible series of events, which I hate myself for. I hate that I am causing this man even more pain, because I know how he’s feeling. He’s lost, and he’s scared. He’s overwhelmed and probably feels like he’s in way over his head. He’s grieving, and on top of that, he has a son who is doing the same.

“But she was a fighter,” I say. “Lana Pipperty was one of the strongest women I have ever known.”

Roy nods, licking away a tear that falls on his lip.

“I don’t know how to do this,” he cries. “Lana was everything. She was built to be a mother. She knew exactly what Joshua needed at all times, and she was so good to him. What if I’m not enough for my son?”

I shake my head. “You are that boy’s hero . He loves you.

“Look, it’s okay to be scared. Anyone in your position would be. But you can do this. It’s not going to be perfect, and some days are going to kick your ass, but none of that can take away the fact that your son is lucky to have you.”

Roy subtly glances behind his shoulder, making sure that Joshua can’t hear him.

“Was she raped?” He whispers. “Was Lana raped?”

I close my eyes for a brief moment, trying to buy myself some time.

“Roy—”

“Ezra, I need to know. For God’s sake, she was my wife. My partner . I have a right to know.”

“Then, yes,” I say, holding back tears. “She was. Multiple times a day, sometimes by multiple people at once.

“But still,” I collect myself. “She fought. Hard . And she talked about you and Joshua all the time. You were the only things that kept her going.”

That seems to make Roy smile.

“Lana and I met when we were five years old. Even then, I knew I wanted to marry her.”

I smile.

“That’s beautiful.”

Suddenly, little footsteps come running down the stairs at full volume.

“Dad, I’m ready. Wait, who’s this?”

Joshua looks at me.

“This is mom’s friend, Ezra. Why don’t you say hi?”

The little boy waves.

“Hi, Ezra.”

“Hi, Joshua.”

“You know my name,” he asks.

I nod. “I do. I also know that your favorite food is chocolate chip cookies, which is why,” I crouch down to his level and hand him the tin. “I made them specially for you. I hope your dad doesn’t mind.”

Roy shakes his head.

“That was very kind of you, Ezra.”

“It was my pleasure.”

Joshua hands his father the tin and then stares down at the floor.

“Were you with Mom when she died?”

I glance at Roy, who nods.

“I was. And she wanted me to tell you just how proud she was of you and how much she loved you. She also made me make her a promise.”

Joshua looks into my eyes.

“She made me promise that no matter what, I would always be here for you and your dad. That I would protect the two of you, even if from afar.”

Joshua places his hand in his father’s.

“Thank you, Ezra.” Roy gives his son a kiss. “For telling me what happened to my wife.”

I nod. “Of course.”

That night, after an incredibly emotional day, I put my hand on my chest and take a deep breath.

I want to believe I’ll be okay. In my heart of hearts, I like to think I will be.

But it’ll take time. No one goes through something traumatic just to come out on the other side a few weeks later. I wish it worked that way, but even I’m smart enough to know that it doesn’t.

Pushing off the door frame with my foot, I take a small glance at the ceiling, letting out a small smile.

“I love you, Lana Pipperty. And I promise to keep you alive in my heart for the rest of my life. I won’t forget you, sweet girl. Not ever.”

Wiping a tear from my eye, I head to my bedroom, where I crash for the night, shoes included.