My name on his lips was nothing short of a curse. I didn’t like hearing it, just like I didn’t like being on the ground with him looming over me, his knee so close to my neck, like he could snap it. Like he could break me like a twig and not think twice about it.
I also didn’t appreciate him telling me what I already knew, and—
It hit me right then. This position was similar to the one I’d taken with one of those Greenback Serpents in Father Charlie’s church. Except I wasn’t the one looming over him; I was in his position, on the ground, damn near helpless.
But I wasn’t him. I wasn’t going to die. Ezekiel wasn’t going to best me. No fucking way.
Something inside of me snapped, much like it had in that church, when I’d killed those men. The memory of warm blood on my hands was all I could think about, the feeling of a gun in my hand as I pulled the trigger. Bang, bang, bang. The sounds of the bullets hitting their marks.
It was as I remembered the fight that I grabbed Ezekiel’s knee, using it to push my body away from his. I got to my knees beside him, and then I took him down.
Down to the dirt. Down to the ground. Our positions were now reversed, except for a few seconds, I didn’t see Ezekiel under me. I saw a Greenback, a murderous, hideous, vile street thug who’d only wanted whatever money the church had.
He didn’t have to kill Father Charlie for that. He didn’t have to murder him in cold blood and leave his body to rot in the confessional. It was all such a pointless crime—for what? It still didn’t make sense to me, and I hated it.
I hated it almost as much as I hated myself these days, as much as I hated my father.
I hated everything.
I straddled Ezekiel, a hand going to his neck. His neck was thick, too thick for me to snap. I couldn’t kill him, but I wanted to. I wanted to… fuck, I didn’t know what the fuck I wanted anymore. That was the problem.
My eyes closed, and I felt the anger inside of me start to dissipate. Everything in me crumbled just like that, and the same hopelessness that had been my life these past three years threatened to drown me once more, like I’d never really gotten over it. My whole body slumped, the hand around his neck loosening.
Why couldn’t I get past this? Why did I feel so… so hopeless?
I scooted down him, my body hunched over to the extreme, my head leaning on his chest. I felt it rise and fall with steady breaths, could practically hear his heart through his clothes, and the steadiness of it made me feel a way I couldn’t describe.
“I’m so tired,” I whispered. “I’m so fucking tired. I can’t—” I didn’t know what I was trying to say here. I didn’t know what I was doing. I… I shouldn’t be on top of a priest, shouldn’t have let him get to me. I shouldn’t have let anyone at this thing tonight get to me. If anything, the only thing I needed to do was get myself under control.
Be better. Or pretend to be better. Fake it ‘till you make it, right?
“Tell me why you’re tired,” Ezekiel spoke, and I jerked my head up, realizing I’d collapsed onto his chest. My eyes met with his, and through the shadows I saw a man who was waiting with patience, a man who didn’t look at me with surprise in his eyes. Almost like he’d expected an outcome like this.
“No,” I whispered. My eyes flicked down, and I realized what position I was now in on top of him. My body had moved lower, now straddling his midsection. Not a position I should be in with anyone in public, let alone a priest, a man I didn’t know. This wasn’t the Playground. “No, I—” I started to get off him, but he grabbed my wrist, right where the glove ended, his fingers sneaking beneath the sleeve of my jacket.
He sat up with me, so that I still straddled him, but now just his lap. “When you run, you only delay the inevitable. If you face what’s bothering you, you can put it to rest for good,” Ezekiel spoke, but whatever wisdom his words held did nothing for me, because all I could focus on was his warmth, how his fingers felt grazing the sensitive skin on my wrist.
“I—” I couldn’t stop staring at the wrist he held onto, couldn’t seem to get my heartbeat under control. I couldn’t say anything. Whatever words trying to escape me just wouldn’t coming out. If I tried, I would fumble and sound like a bigger idiot.
“What happened to you?” His words finally brought me back to reality, and I lifted my gaze away from my wrist and his hand, meeting his blue-eyed stare. The depths of his eyes were dark in the night, and they were mighty, mighty close to mine.
“Nothing happened to me,” I whispered. “Why would you say that? Why would you… you don’t know me.” Why wouldn’t he let my wrist go? Why couldn’t I get off him? I wanted to go home. To take off these clothes and bury myself in a mountain of blankets and pretend I was just a normal girl with normal problems. Nothing special about me here.
“Don’t I? You’ve been hurt. You try to be strong, put on a good show, do what you must. It’s what we all do, isn’t it?” Ezekiel was slow to release his hold on my wrist, and I crawled off him, rubbing where he’d touched with my other hand, sitting on my ass beside him. “I might not know you, but I know that much.”
I shook my head. “No, no, you don’t know me. Stop trying to dissect me and leave me alone.” I got to my feet, glaring at him. Even if the glare was fake, I’d rather have him not know how much he got to me. “I’m not taking the fucking cross back. Throw it out if you want. I don’t fucking care.” And with that, I spun on my heel and started to walk away.
Eh, walk might be an under-exaggeration. I might’ve power-walked. Maybe I ran. Who could say? All I knew was, I needed to get home, leave this little party before Ezekiel got up and tried to push that cross off on me yet again.
No. I wasn’t going to take it, and I didn’t want to see that Ezekiel any more. He’d already gotten under my skin enough. I could still feel where he’d touched me on my wrist, could still feel the ghostly sensation of his warmth, his iron-strong grip. If he wouldn’t have let me go, I very well might still be on his lap.
Ugh. What the fuck was up with that guy?
Zander was the first to greet me at the bonfire. He stood near Luca and Cade, but he was the only one who spoke, “You all right?” I could tell he was not the only one waiting on my answer. I hoped my face hid what I was feeling.
“I’m fine,” I said, noticing Damian across the flames. The circle of fighting had ceased to be, probably when Ezekiel had arrived. Damian stared at me through the fire, and when he saw I looked at him, he smirked.
“What did he want?” Luca asked, as if he had any right to know what was going on with me. He didn’t, but since I knew Zander also waited for that particular information, I decided to just say it.