Page 83 of Grind
“Thanks. That’s so nice of you. I’m… sorry about not reaching out. I’m still in recovery,” he muttered and poured some oat milk into a pan before putting it on the heat.
Ros glanced at Ezra’s face with… pity? Compassion? Ezra couldn’t tell. “I understand. You’re going through something very hard, take all the time you need. And let me know if I can help in any way. I can’t imagine how annoying it must be to do things with only one hand.”
“No, it’s fine. I actually don’t have much to do here, so I can take my time,” Ezra said and added cocoa to the milk before stirring it in with a whisk. Ros’s gaze heated his back like a brand, but he had no idea what to do about it, so he pretended everything was fine.
“I heard Frank lifted a car to get you out. Looks like all that training paid off. Shane would sometimes tease him about there being no point to the kind of strength training he does, but the other day, when Shane thought I was still asleep, I saw him through the window, struggling to flip one of those crazy massive tires.”
Ezra looked over his shoulder, startled by Ros’s confession but also touched. He barely remembered what had happened to him after the shock of seeing Dex playing with human remains, but he would have been dead if it wasn’t for Frank.
“Fortunately for him, you’re not dumb like me and won’t fall into a trap.”
Ros sighed as he unpacked a whole plastic tray of donuts. “It’s not dumb. You couldn’t have known. I scavenge a lot at the junkyard, and even I will often ask Jag to come with me when I want to go to an area I'm not familiar with. He knows this place best.”
Ezra froze and looked away from the donuts. “How do you deal with everything that happens here?” he asked, whisking the heating cocoa faster, because the very presence of pastries he couldn’t ignore out of politeness made his blood pressure rise.
Ros could have easily made a joke out of the question to avoid its baggage, but his face became serious. “I… I don’t like the danger of what they do, but it became this weird thing where I no longer fear the people involved. You’ll think it’s weird, but I’ve seen Shane do some violent things to protect me, and it made me feel safe. The bikers don’t freak me out either. It’s like with my Rottweilers, they’remine, you know?”
The pressure in Ezra’s throat grew until he felt as if there was a rock with sharp edges stuck in there. “Have you actuallyseenthe things they do?”
This time Ros wouldn’t meet his gaze, keenly interested in the small print at the back of a bag of oat flakes. “Some of it, and it’s not pretty, I know. But I still stand by Shane. Maybe it’s stupid of me, but I trust him.”
The whisk dropped from Ezra’s hand, and he rested his fingers on the edge of the countertop, watching the light brown liquid spin inside the pot. Its movement affected his own sense of balance, so he shut his eyes, trying to chase off the intrusive images. “I can’t wrap my head around this and the way Frank has always acted toward me. It’s like he’s two different people.”
Ros pondered it a while and sat by the table. “Well… are you always the same with everyone?”
“It’s not that extreme. I just don’t understand how he can be so tender and then go and watch Dex cut people up like they’re pork,” Ezra said and picked up two mugs before pouring the cocoa into both. He made sure to add stevia to Ros’s but left his own bitter. The milk was sweet enough anyway.
“Maybe it’s because he knows they’re bad people. Or because he’s seen enough to become numb to violence?”
Despite Ezra’s mind initially rebelling against that concept, he could relate to it. As much as he liked sex and flirting, many clients were not his type, not at all good in bed, uninteresting, or held views that made him burn with rage. He’d learned to lock parts of himself away when that happened. To laugh at crude jokes and not expect anything but money in return for all his efforts.
Maybe it was the same for Frank?
“I think he never wanted me to know.”
Ros nodded and took a sip of the hot chocolate as soon as Ezra placed the cup in front of him. “Everyone wants to show the person they care about only the best parts of themselves. But without knowing the ugly, there can be no real connection.”
He wasn’t wrong. It wasn’t like Ezra uncovered all his cards in front of… well, anybody. Was it right to expect Frank to do so?
He settled in one of the other chairs and blew air into the warm beverage to cool it. “It’s been weird since I found out. Frank is barely here. Do you know if he still wants me around, or would he rather I went home?” he asked, hiding behind the mug as his facial muscles twitched against his will.
There was nohomefor him to go to.
Ros became more animated again as if the dark cloud over him had dispersed. “He’s always worked this much since I met him, so don’t think it’s you causing him to stay away. I’m pretty sure he very much wants you around. He actually asked me the other day if I could come and help remodel your room so that it’s more to your taste. He cares about you, Ezra.”
Then why wasn’t he here, trying to convince Ezra that nothing changed?
So maybe it was in contradiction to everything he’d told Frank at the hospital, but wasn’t he allowed a bit of chaos in his mind after all he’d been through?
And despite the constant melancholia and self-pity, he did wait for Frank each day, always hoping that there would be a breakthrough. That maybe they’d talk like they used to, so he no longer felt so out of control. Because right now, he felt like he provided no value to anyone.
“I feel that I should be revolted by what I’ve seen, and I am, but I also miss Frank.”
Ros nodded as he sipped from his cup. “I don’t want to try to sway you. It’s for you to decide what kind of life you’re ready for, because the one here isn’t just a bed of roses.”
Ezra nodded, letting the waves of heat and cold wash through him as he thought back to all the times he and Frank had laughed together, of him protecting Ezra at the hospital as if his own life was on the line, not someone else’s. How despite the rejection, Frank had declared to Paul that Ezra washis. But Ros was right, only he could make decisions about the future.
“Thanks. I have a lot to think about.”
