Page 70 of Grind
But surely, not all relationships were like this. Unlike Dad, Frank had genuine friends, who clearly trusted him a great deal. It couldn’t have come from nowhere.
Ezra plopped to the couch with a deflated sigh and grabbed the journal filled with notes on the men he’d been seeing for work. Like a good service provider, he needed to remember details about them to make sure they always had a good time, but Frank had still crawled under his skin early on. He’d never been just another customer.
Ezra enjoyed every moment in his company, even small ones like watching TV together, or chats about nothing. Maybe he was boring, but the calm energy Frank exuded was soothing to his soul. Thinking about him made Ezra’s chest burn like a bonfire. For once, he let the flames develop rather than trying to contain them, and the glow they produced exposed the dark thoughts that accompanied Ezra all his life for what they were—chains keeping him back from something he’d been starving for.
The distant roar of a car engine made him rise and approach the front window. He wasn’t yet ready to name his feelings for Frank, but Ezra wanted to let him know they were there before he lost his courage.
Seeing three sets of headlights rather than one dampened his enthusiasm, but then he realized they weren’t coming from the right direction and stalled with a weight slowly dropping in his stomach, because something was off about this.
There was a prepaid phone Frank left with him for emergencies, and while cell coverage was sometimes patchy around here, texts usually went through. If someone was to arrive at the house, Frank would have let Ezra know. It wouldn’t be Shane nor Dex, since they were away with Frank, and none of the other inhabitants of the scrapyard would have arrived in a cavalcade of three vehicles.
The weight in Ezra’s stomach turned cold when he stepped away from the window and saw the duffel bags Frank had retrieved from his old apartment a few hours back.
It could be a coincidence, but what if it was not? Ezra had been sleeping with Paul for three years and missed the fact of him being a killer, so why wouldn’t he have someone watching Ezra’s place?
It wasn’t impossible.
In fact, despite the strong sense that hewasoverreacting, Ezraneededto be out of the house, or he’d asphyxiate due to lung paralysis.
He turned on his heel and ran toward the smaller bedroom, grabbing the cell phone off the table on the way. Slamming the door behind him, he climbed onto the bed and went straight for the open window.
It was ridiculous.
This probably was just some customers arriving in the wrong place, but he’d rather be a pathetic coward than risk than take the tiniest risk that the new arrivals werenotfriends.
The cool air unlocked his airways as something sharp cut into his palm, but his skin went numb right away, and he shut the window behind him, running toward the shed on the other side of Frank’s outdoor gym as the bright glow of headlights filtered through the night, creating enough illumination beyond the main house for Ezra to avoid the random pieces of equipment scattered around the place.
As soon as he spotted the bicycle leaning against the side of the shed, he knew it would be his way out. Fear was sinking into his joints, urging him to crouch in the darkness and cover his head to avoid being found, to avoid violence. Behind him, the place he’d felt so safe in, turned into a stark black shape, still protecting him from whoever came after him yet not impenetrable.
He couldn’t stop moving. Grabbing the handles of the bicycle, he led it farther from the mysterious guests. If this was a false alarm, then he’d lose nothing, but niggling thoughts at the back of his head kept suggesting Paul could have left hidden cameras in Ezra’s old apartment. After seeing Frank and Shane there, he would have known exactly where to find Ezra.
So maybe he would find Frank around some stolen cars. Big deal. This might be a good moment to confront him about the whole fence thing and have the secrecy over with.
Wary of attracting attention, ran toward the narrow road starting behind a wrecked double-deck bus advertising a movie from the early 2000s. The car engines were still on, as if the guests were keen to move on immediately after obtaining what they’d come for.
Fear trailed down his back like an icy trickle at a loud banging on the door, because it did not sound like someone asking for entry. The stranger wasdemandingto be let in, and when an unfamiliar voice shouted Frank’s name, Ezra dashed forward, led by the faint glow of the moon above.
He ran for his life.
Ezra mounted the bike as soon as he was behind the bus and no longer risked being spotted from the house. By the time he chose one of the two phone numbers he had on speed dial, he was shaking with anxiety. Between two tall heaps of large home appliances, shadows obscured the way ahead, leaving him to speed up blindly, but after a few turns of the pedals, the light mounted at the front of the bicycle turned on, illuminating the narrow path covered with gravel.
Fighting for breath, Ezra moved his legs faster, narrowing his eyes in an effort to see more clearly as he waited for the call to connect, but the receiver sandwiched between his shoulder and head offered silence.
And then, “The person you are trying to reach is currently not available,” a voice devoid of personality and emotion told him so loudly he almost dropped the phone as pain shot through his ear.
Which meant Frank had to be somewhere deep in the labyrinth of junk, precisely where he’d told Ezra not to go.
Ezra understood Frank’s reluctance to reveal some facts about his life, but in these circumstances, there was no place for secrecy.
Ezra’s legs spun faster than ever as he took one of the forbidden paths, and while a part of him worried he’d slip on the uneven ground and get thrown off the bike, straight on his face, he was too afraid to slow down.
The thudding in his ears might block out the noise of an encroaching car, but he chose to focus on the way ahead, and even if he ended up not finding Frank, he could at least hide and wait out the danger somewhere in the endless landscape of concrete, plastic, and metal.
It would be fine.
He was about to follow the road when it broadened, but the light mounted at the front of the bike revealed big, curved grooves in the gravel, as if a vehicle had recently made a rapid turn. He slowed down and looked back, in time to see a road cleverly hidden from sight by being nearly parallel to the one Ezra had followed here.
Frank was a deceptively clever man, so of course he’d use visual cues to his advantage. There was also an old, windowless truck parked right next to the passage, and Ezra would bet his finger that it blocked the way when the passage was not in active use. On his bicycle though, he could slip through with ease.
