Page 98 of Seven+Four

Was he the one who helped me escape by throwing something on the cottage’s roof?

“You didn’t need it. You were more than capable of getting out of the situation by yourself.”Situation? Does he mean my kidnapping? His blatant statement is actually a breath of fresh air, but at the same time, so annoying.

“The guy in the cottage is out of it, and the other two are dead,” he adds.

He must have gone inside after I left.

“I couldn’t understand why my brother wanted to own a person so…fragile. Now I know that’s just appearances.”

“You were testing me?” I feel strangely pleased and deeply pissed. I was manhandled, kidnapped, and tied to a very uncomfortable chair by a crazy ex, and instead of helping me, Ezra just decided to see how thesituationwould develop.

“You’re a fucking psychopath,” I mutter, reminding myself what that entails. “Give me your phone.”

Of course, he doesn’t oblige. “I already contacted Uri. He should be here soon.”

I frown at him. “How do I know you’re telling the truth?”

“You don’t.” He shrugs.

My foot suddenly slips as I take a step back. Ezra instantly appears a couple of inches from me and grabs my arm, holding me up. The gun’s muzzle is against his chest now, but he doesn’t seem disturbed by it. Instead he smirks.

“You are as clumsy as a baby with no motor skills.”

“I just escaped from a kidnapping!” I retort with irritation.

“Who hasn’t in this…family?” It reminds me he was once imprisoned as well, just like the rest of us—much longer than us.

He lets me go to reach his hand inside the pocket of his dark green hoodie.

“Slowly!” I order him, pushing the gun against his body more firmly.

He does as I say—still smirking like a lunatic—and pulls out a box of…Band-Aids. “You know I can take that weapon out of your hand in less than a second,” he deadpans, opening the box.

Can he? He’s an assassin for hire, so he probably can. I hesitantly lower the pistol, still keeping it in my hand.

“How did you know I wasn’t Uriel?” he asks as he removes the backing papers from the Band-Aid’s adhesive side.

I look into his eyes again, and I don’t see any kind of murderous intention in them, only emptiness. It makes me shudder.

“You have a whole different aura. And Uri would never wear these clothes.” I look at the red bandana around his forehead half covered by the hoodie with a snake on the sleeve and his beige cargo pants.

Distracted by my survey, I let him place the red Band-Aid with a black heart carefully drawn on it over my cheek. I’ve been jealous of him since Uri told us about his existence. I hated the fact that he kept Ezra as a secret, or the idea of Uri having another special person in his life, a brother bonded to him by blood. But I understand now how petty of me that was.

“Why are you helping me?” I ask suddenly. Psychopaths don’t do anything unless there’s something to gain from it.

“Why Uriel?” He answers with another question not pertinent to what happened in the slightest. “Of all the other foster brothers, why him?”

I stare at his face. That’s a peculiar question. Is he testing me again?

Movement from behind Ezra makes me suddenly freeze. Then I do a double take when I see him. All my fear and anger drain away at the mere sight of him.

He’s alive. Uri. Uri. Uri. Dear God, he’s here and so beautiful, the rising sun is dancing along his figure as he stalks through the woods toward us, like flames shimmering all round him. The dry blood on his forehead and in his hair trailing down his beige sweater makes me gasp with dread, but his steps are steady and forceful.

He’s alive.

“Uri!” I sob. Relief crashes into me, making me shudder. I want to run to him, but my arms and legs don’t seem to work. Our eyes lock, then he lets his trail down my body. I feel like I’m being touched all over by his gaze.

I know the answer to Ezra’s question.Not loving Uri would have been impossible. He is me, as I am him. Seven plus Four equals one.

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