Page 35 of Ignite


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Again with the kid shit. Does Cain think I’m a child, too? Is that why he rejected me?

There are plenty of other reasons why he would turn you down.

“Ezra, sir,” I say, figuring it’s best to charm the large man waving around a knife. If he’s friends with Cain, I don’t doubt this guy knows how to use it.

“Well, Ezra. Consider yourself blessed. Cain has brought you to the greatest sandwich shop in East Bank! What can I get for you?” He carves into a loaf of fresh bread baked with savory herbs.

“Two orders of the same, Lenny,” Cain cuts in with his firm, business voice.

Lenny points his serrated knife at Cain. “Oh, no, you don’t. No bossing us around. What if Ezra doesn’t care for pastrami? I’m not about to let him have a bad experience in my restaurant.”

Cain frowns, and Lenny waves him off. “Always with that temper. Never frightened me.”

“I’m honestly good with what he orders,” I say, hoping to keep Cain from sinking into a foul mood before I have to sit at a table with him. Or maybe he’ll walk us back to the apartment and ditch me for work.

It should worry me that I’m craving his attention. That’s not okay, right? My little attempt at being upset last night after I tried to seduce him fizzled out too quickly. It’s so pathetic.

Lenny nods me over to the counter, and I lean against it, overwhelmed by the selections on the menu.

“I can do a hot sandwich or a cold cut. What’s your preference?”

“I don’t really know.” I look to Cain for advice, but he gives me nothing in his cold gaze.

“No worries, Ezra. I’ll take care of you.” Lenny gives me a wink, and I give him my best smile, heart thudding extra fast when I notice Cain watching me.

People like Lenny and Jakey are a rare breed. They need to be treasured.

After Cain pays, he leads us over to a red plastic booth. His mood has shifted darker, if that’s even possible.

“I’m not trying to be difficult,” I mumble, hoping that will suffice as an apology when he was the one who brought me here with him. I knead my hands together under the table.

Cain lets out an aggravated sigh, but his features soften. “No, it’s not you. I actually have something important to discuss.”

I perk up. “Okay. Shoot.”

“I’d like you to train with Rev while you’re under our… protection.”

My brows raise. “Verses what? Killing me or releasing me into the wild so Gabriel can kill me?”

Cain’s nostrils flare. “If that’s how you want to see things, then yes. Consider it a trial run. You prove yourself, and there could be a potential job offer in the future with good pay and solid benefits.”

“Benefits?”

He leans back in the booth, eyes narrowing at me. “Ezra, have you ever held a job before?”

I suck at my lip ring. “If I say no, are you going to change your mind about hiring me?”

I’ve never worked a day in my life, only stolen to survive. And before roaming the streets…

There is nothing. Nothing but fucking nightmares.

Fighting back the sickening emotions thrashing in my chest, I manage to hold his gaze.

Cain shakes his head. “No, I won’t change my mind. Long as you’re not a spy.”

What if I suck at the job? What will Cain do with me, then? With insider information on Sinro, I feel like the end resulthasto be a bullet between my eyes.

I bounce a bit on my seat. Catching the impulsive movement, I channel that energy into picking at my painted nails under the tableinstead. Would it be weird to ask Cain for another bottle of it? I’d left my backpack at the shelter with Jakey. Chances of getting it back were slim. Which really fucking sucked because that meant I’d lost the scarf Jakey had made me.