Page 16 of Beg for Death
"What happened to him?" I asked.
"We broke up," he muttered. "I broke up with him. He used to hit me. Or just say horrible things to me everyday. I got tired of it eventually, well once I walked in on him with my roommate at the time." He bit his lip. "I just wanted to be treated a little better. Just a bit. I wasn’t even angry when he cheated on me. It was when he did it in my face. It sucked."
I could see the desperation in him. The way he must have begged the boyfriend for just a hint of human decency. It was pathetic. I searched his face, then I finally nodded once. Turning on my heels, I headed for the door. That was enough chatter for tonight. I didn't need his whole life story. Even if he wasn't close to Jasper, I knew it would still bother him. He wouldn't want to be seen as a bad father by the world. He would crawl just so it made him look good. Besides, I didn't need to get close to Felix. He was going to be dead sooner rather than later.
"Put the plate on the nightstand when you're done. I’ll come get it later. And turn off this damn light. I'm not going to pay extra money for you to run up my light bill."
I snapped the door shut behind me and put on the lock. Moving to the couch, I sat down and glanced at the dark TV. Thinking about the ex made me itch. So did Jasper. Everyone in Felix's life had literally treated him like shit. Maybe that was why he crumbled like he did for me. Used to it. Practically begging for it. I lit up another smoke and exhaled.
How fucked up is this?
I leaned back on the couch, staring at the ceiling. All I needed to do was focus on my plan. Get my revenge. And move on. My stomach tightened. The boyfriend, Jasper, the friend he was talking about that he still had no idea was me? It all came together, clashing in my brain.
Just focus, Ezra.
Chapter Eight
Felix
Two days of taking my meds and eating full meals, and I felt better than I ever had. It was only a short time but already it felt incredible to have someone take care of me. I tried to remind myself he was doing this for a reason. That he wasn't being kind to me. I was his captive, nothing more and nothing less. No one was ever nice to me, not without a reason. I wasn't sure of the reasons yet but I was certain it had to do with my dad. For the life of me, I couldn't come up with anything. I'd never met Ezra prior to my kidnapping.
I stood up, my teddy bear still held tight in my arms as I paced the floor. The soft worn fur on the bear felt nice against my fingers. I pulled at it softly. I felt less foggy than I had in days. To be truthful I was also getting really good sleep. Even after everything, I slept like a rock. There was probably something wrong with me. I glanced at the nightstand that now had my pills arranged perfectly.
“Okay, so there is something wrong with me. I’m mentally fucked.”
"Anyone with eyes can see that," Ezra's voice broke through the otherwise quiet room and made me jump.
My teddy went up in the air and I caught it before I moved back. My heart was lodged in my throat as I barely contained a yelp.
"I've been standing here for a solid minute." He crossed his arms over his broad chest as he leaned on the doorframe like he'd done so many times. His dark gaze weighed heavily on me as he watched me.
My stomach twisted in that same way it had done the other night. He was making me question my sanity more than any psychiatrist could have.
"Um, do you need something… sir?" It wasn't hard to call him sir instead of his name. Something told me not to say it. The way he'd gotten angry when the other man had mentioned his name still sent chills down my spine. Sir was simple, but every time I looked at Ezra, I wanted to say something different, something that should be very, very wrong.
"You were talking to yourself, came to make sure you didn't lose it and start talking about the shadow clowns trying to eat your eyeballs."
My head tilted to the side as I studied him. His lips quirked up slightly at the edges. Not a full smile but one nonetheless. Again, my stomach did the weird flip thing, and I fidgeted on the spot.
"No, you've made sure I've taken my medicine on time."
That was more than anyone had ever done in my life. My father hated even knowing about it and my ex used the fact that I was on meds to hurt me more. A part of me expected Ezra to do the same. It wouldn't be so far-fetched, and yet since learning about my mental health, he's done nothing but help me. I wouldn't go as far as to say he's nice or even remotely caring but it was different. I just couldn't explain it yet.
He grunted. "Then who were you talking to?"
"Myself?"
"Are you asking me?" Ezra's brow lifted in question.
I nodded but quickly shook my head. "No, I was, um. Fuck. Sorry, sir."
Ezra's chuckle was rich and still terrifying as he turned to leave. A small squeak left me as I took a step after him. He didn't spend a lot of time in my room beyond making me take my meds. A few days ago was the most of a conversation we'd had, and I was starting to crave some kind of interaction. My mind wasn't exactly the most fun place to get lost in.
I didn't have a lot of friends before, but I still was around people most of the day. And when I wasn't, I had people online to talk to. Now I had the four walls, my teddy, and the small incidents with Ezra. I wasn't ready to stop yet. I had questions, and even if he didn't want to answer any of them, talking it out felt better than keeping it all locked in. I chewed my cheek, contemplating asking him about my father. I wanted to know and didn't at the same time. And who was to say he'd tell me in the first place?
He twisted around, staring at me intently. "Spit it out. I can practically see the tiny screws in your head turning."
"How do you know my dad?" I blurted out. "Or why are you angry with him?"
