Page 44 of Grind
“Don’t you worry, I have not stained your moral compass. I’m twenty-three,” Ezra said, starting his meal with the tomatoes. Fiber first. Then protein, and he’d wrap up with carbs to keep the sugar spike to a minimum. He felt guilty about gorging on so much bread and cheese at Ros and Shane’s, so today’s menu needed to be perfect.
Frank’s relief was so obvious his expression made Ezra chuckle.
“Okay. Good. I might like guys younger than me, but I’m no cradle-snatcher. So you were close with your mom, but… aren’t anymore? Why did you lose touch?”
Ezra chewed a bit slower to think through his answer. He wouldn’t have called his relationship with Momclose. They just had a lot in common, and she saw him for what he was.
“Because of the job I chose to do. She thinks it’s dirty, and told me that I’m on my way to sucking dick for crack,” he said, laughing. “She’s a hypocrite, so I don’t feel the need to reach out either.”
Then again, he had ended up in an arrangement with a murderer, and now had to hide out at a junkyard with a different kind of criminal, so maybe she hadn’t been so wrong after all. Not that her choice of staying with a shitty husband was any better.
“How so?” Frank asked between one bite and another. He’d never been this inquisitive before, and Ezra was torn between feeling flattered by the attention and wary that he was giving away too much. Another thing Mom had taught him. Keep your cards close. They might be used against you.
He filled his mouth, once again buying himself time while Frank watched him, his eyes so open, so interested in what Ezra had to say. Most of the people he’d spent time with were more interested in talking about themselves, and he wasn’t sure what this meant.
But his family wasn’t some big secret, so he shrugged. “She married for money. But I suppose she thinks it’s fine to sell yourself if it’s just one person. Or maybe she just got jealous when I grew out of my teen pudge and started getting more attention from guys than her.”
“So how did you get into escorting if your mom was against it?”
Ezra laughed. “Mom couldn’t tell me what to do once I turned eighteen. She should blame herself for telling me to go into a profession that would give me access to high quality men, since I was gay and all that. I did a few modeling gigs, and I started going out to get my bearings as an adult. I think it started the way it did for a lot of people. This one guy offered me cash for spending time with him while his wife was away.”
It had felt good to be desired. And he soon found out the money that could be made in the profession would offer him a chance to live independently and reach whatever goal he chose.
“What about your father? You cut contact with both your parents?”
Ezra sipped more of the coffee even though his stomach twisted with ice, as if an eel had passed through it. “There isn’t really much to say about him. He was never very family focused. Unlike you. How come you lost touch with your sister?” he asked, eager to shift the attention to Frank because the less they talked about Ezra’s dad the better.
Frank gave his pancakes a thoughtful nudge with his fork. “I got mixed in with a bad crowd at a young age. I didn’t grow up with money, so I don’t know if I was compensating or just greedy, but from one violent outburst to another, I ended up in a gang. A lot of my tattoos are from back then. Weirdly enough, unlike my family, those guys were fine with me being gay, even if they made the occasional joke. But I was already big as a teen, so no one fucked with me. Looking back, the older guys must have just understood I’d be useful, so what did they care who I fucked?”
Ezra didn’t expect to get so much information without any prodding. Most guys he knew would have offered him a story that painted them as victims of circumstance or prejudice. He wasn’t used to so much honesty, and his heart beat faster, warning him that this might be a trap.
He chose to fall into it.
“Is that how you know Paul?”
Frank nodded. “Yeah, he’s two years older than me, and he’s gay, so we naturally drifted close.”
Ezra exhaled and put his hand on Frank’s knee, because while Frank was a big, tough guy, he did have a soft heart and reminiscing might be unpleasant. “I’m sorry. Must have been a shock to find out he’s—”
The words got stuck in Ezra’s throat, and as his brain reminded him of the head staring at him with dead eyes, the smell of pancakes became the sickening odor of rot.
Frank sighed and squeezed his fingers. “It’s… I don’t know. Seems like a natural progression for him. For a few years, Paul and I, we were really a force to be reckoned with. Two young shitheads looking for trouble, stealing cars, selling drugs. My relationship with my sister was already strained because of that lifestyle, and my father was trash not worth the sofa he farted into for twenty years. But it all came to a head when my sister got pregnant at nineteen. With a guy ten years older than her.” He glanced at Ezra. “The irony isn’t lost on me. I beat up the guy real bad, thinking I was taking some noble revenge. He left the picture, and my sister refused to speak to me for years after that.”
Ezra rubbed Frank’s thigh and shifted closer, suddenly feeling that the questioning had been a mistake. People didn’t like those who made them feel bad, regardless of reasons. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pried,” he said, though the honesty pouring out of Frank’s mouth was baffling. It was like discovering this man from the ground up after a whole year of fucking. As if he’d also been keeping a facade even though he was the one paying, so he didn’t have to. And strangely, all this new info didn’t feel like when clients complained about their wives or problems at work, using Ezra as their pliant sounding board who would tell them they were right and the other people were awful.
No, Frank wanted toconnectand was open to it. He wanted to let Ezra in, and that was somehow scarier than the blood on Paul’s carpet. Though maybe not the severed head.
“Don’t be. I enjoyed the time with you when I paid for it, but this?” Frank stroked Ezra’s hand. “I think I needed this. I want toknowyou, Ezra. Acne, food allergies, and addiction to avocado included. I like your pretty face, but that’s not all I want, understand?”
Shit.
Ezra froze as the reality of this situation crashed into him. Frank had just declared he wanted them to be more than friends. Had Ezra been this successful at leading him on? Their time together was a pleasure, yes, but Ezra had plans—a guy hopefully still waiting for him in LA, a business to start, and a whole world to discover. He did not want to be stuck in this junkyard forever, and while romantic feelings would motivate Frank to protect him, they would also discourage him from dealing with Ezra’s actual problem, Paul, and letting him go
On the surface, Frank seemed like a genuine guy, but the fact that he was involved in crime and hadn’t been caught proved he knew how to keep secrets. Would he go as far as keeping Ezra here under the pretense of safety? For all Ezra knew, Frank might have already contacted his former friend and told him he’d keep Ezra quiet, away from the world and therefore of no danger to Paul’s freedom.
He hated now knowing what Frank really thought. There was no way for Ezra to verify the sincerity of Frank's words, which left him in this terrible limbo.
But if his feelings were so torn and messy, why did Frank’s straightforward declaration make his insides flutter?
