I don’t bother cleaning up my bloody wounds. Don’t even bother planning an escape from Sinro Enterprises.
What does it matter?
Why does any of it matter?
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CAIN
Am I no better than the monsters I hunt?
Often I fall down that wormhole of toxic thinking, and tonight is no different. Blinded by rage and determined to make Ezra my enemy, I hadn’t thought twice about showing him the horrors we confront.
He wants to play thief to criminals? Then he should understand the full consequences of his actions. He wants to work for me? Then he can’t be so fucking weak.
I drag a hand down the side of my face, overcome with regret. I let things get out of hand. Fuck. I’m not even immune to those pictures after all these years.
Knowing evil like that exists in this world is why I work overtime. It’s why I joined the Special Forces, letting them scrape out my insides and rebuild me. It’s why I sacrifice my sleep and personal life now.
But Ezra’s reaction? No one could fake that fear. I may not have Rev’s intuition for what lies beneath the surface or Isaac’s intellect on humanconditions. However, I’ve seen that terror reflected back at me too many times from the eyes of victims I’ve rescued.
The impact of this newly gleaned, jagged piece of Ezra hits me hard enough to throw me off balance. All of my doubts about his innocence in Lenny’s death go right out the window.
Were we wrong in thinking he could handle a job as a contracted killer? Was he abused? Or is he just sensitive by nature?
The idea of me tainting that gentleness… well, I don’t fucking like that shredded feeling in my chest at all.
I need to find Ezra. Need to make this right. I need to erase those images from his brain.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
Bolting from my office, I sprint for the stairwell and scour the main lobby. I search the lower levels, harassing Alaric until he checks the security feed. We catch Ezra slipping off the elevator on the ninth floor over an hour ago, but when I race up the stairs, I find nothing amiss except for an opened closet door.
Was he trying to hide?
Charging up more flights of stairs to the seventeenth floor, I bang a fist on Rev’s door. I’m not sure how closely those two bonded today, but my gut churns at the thought. If they do end up together, I don’t have any right to be upset.
Rev opens the door wrapped in a towel. Water droplets fall from his shag of wet, silvery hair onto his bare chest. His skin is covered in white ink tattoos. They’re so faint, I’ve never actually deciphered all the shapes.
“I have a phone, you know,” he says, icy eyes staring back at me. “Why do you look like that?”
“Is Ezra with you?” I demand.
Rev swings his door wide, giving me a full view of his empty kitchen and living room. It’s a mirror image of my apartment. “As much as I wish for that, no. Idorespect your property.”
I hold back the urge to snap at Rev about Ezra being property. This is just how Rev’s brain operates sometimes.
He mutters insults before shutting his door as I charge down the hall toward the common areas.
Panic wraps cold fingers around my throat. Did Ezra succeed at escaping? Lenny was shot less than a mile from our building. Gabriel would snatch Ezra up in minutes.
I check the gym and balcony area. Both are empty. When I stride past the living area, I glimpse a blanketed lump on the floor. My heart sinks.
Ezra.
I watch the blanket rise and fall with his steady breaths, no other sounds to accompany it. What do I do now that I found him? Do I let him sleep? Should I call Salem or Isaac to come help me deal with this situation I fucking created, all because I have deep-rooted trust issues?
Both of them are probably visiting Lenny’s family right now, something I plan to do tomorrow when I rein in my aggression. Nothing worse than losing my temper in front of a victim’s loved one.
