He wasn’t worth the bullet.
“Well, pardon me for my assumptions, Elijah. You couldn’t possibly know what it’s like to worry about one of your sons killing the other over a fucking theory.”
It was astonishing, really—the way she spoke as a debutante one second and a savage the next. The falsified life she built her legacy on rarely collided with who she really was but when Ezra and I were involved, it was difficult for her to keep that piece of her completely at bay.
“I made you a promise, ma. I’ll keep my bullets out of Ezra as long as I don’t have to see his fucking face.”
My brother lost his mind years ago, and while my mother was still bouncing across the state looking for it, I’d accepted that Ezra was simply nothing more than an empty body with a pair of busted knuckles and a heavy vendetta.
The facts he lived by were reformed lies, and over the years, he’d deconstructed our history and rebuilt it into something that suited his violent nature and desperate need for approval.
“So, he’s stayed away then? You haven’t seen him?”
“No.”
Breathing the same air as Ezra made me sick, and I’d warned him that if he so much asblinkedin my direction, I’d do what I didn’t do the night he betrayed me and kill him.
“He’s a fucking worm, ma. The only reason I get within amileof Ezra is because you beg me.”
“I do not beg.”
Yes, she fucking did.
The method she favored was misguided, manipulative, and piled with culpability. It was an unorthodox way of begging but I’d expect nothing less from the woman who’d taught me how to lie.
“Ezra is not dead, and if he was, I wouldn’t fucking care.”
“I care, Elijah.I care.”
Her determination was wavering. I heard it cracking beneath her whispered plea, and though her pain was embellished for the sake of her fight, it wasn’t completely false.
God damnit.
“Ben has a couple of computer analysts on the payroll. I’ll see if they can find out where Ezra’s been. If they’re able to locate him, I’ll call you. Until then, leave me alone. I don’t want updates on Ezra's life. The more I’m reminded he has one, the more tempted I am to take it the fuck away.”
I ended the call.
Up ahead, I spotted the subtle, narrow mouth of the two-lane road that led to Ben’s killer house. Trees flanked either side of it, making it nearly impossible for the untrained eye to detect.
My foot was heavy on the gas pedal, and my engine soared as I turned down the tight track. Thick tires crunched at the gravel as I rolled down the bumpy road. After a minute, the trees opened up. My headlights acted as a beacon, highlighting the old decaying building that sat lopsided several yards in front of me. Parked alongside the structure were more than a dozen luxury cars and a single motorcycle belonging to Ivan.
The steady hum of my engine was the only sound to be heard as I coasted into the dark lot. Weaving in and out of manmade lanes, I came to a stop near the edge of the building.
The time blinked up at me.
Three minutes.
Punching my thumb against the call button, the shrill sound of the phone ringing reverberated throughout the inside of my car. I popped my neck and tightened the grip I had on the steering wheel. My knuckles whitened as I waited for him…
Pick up.
Pick up.
Pick up.
“Hello?”
“Kitten.”