On silent feet, I approach Ezra. I ease the blanket off his head. He’s curled up in a tense ball, fingers woven through the thick threads of the blanket like he’s afraid someone’s going to rip it away from him.
It makes me sick to think that I made him feel this way. All because I forgot how to be human. Forgot that others might feel things differently from me. I let my rage over Lenny’s death and Aiden’s betrayal drive me to cause Ezra true pain.
My gaze moves down his body, spotting dots and streaks of red along his golden skin. A wave of nausea overcomes me as I turn his arm toreveal cuts and punctures. Fucking hell. He still has a safety pin speared through his flesh. I bite back a growl, recalling how many of them he had clipped to his ripped black jeans and speared through his ears in the alley that day.
The couch becomes my support as I drop down next to him on the floor.
“Baby, what did you do?” I whisper.
Forcing deep breaths to keep my head level, I slip my arms beneath him and lift him. I start toward my apartment door, but I hesitate halfway there, gaze cutting to Rev’s door across the hall.
Would Ezra do better in Rev’s care tonight? Who am I to play doctor when I was the one who hurt him?
But I know I won’t be able to settle without Ezra close to me tonight. I carry him inside my apartment and place him in my bed.
After retrieving supplies from my bathroom, I clean and bandage his wounds, biting into my cheek as I drag the safety pin out of his skin.
Thankfully, he never stirs. I don’t have the words necessary to comfort him if he did wake up.
I watch him sleep for a while before giving up on the idea of crawling into bed with him. I’m still too keyed up. Slipping out my front door, I head to the gym.
With only the glow of the city lights through the windows to illuminate the equipment, I blast heavy metal from the sound system to drown out my thoughts. If I let them linger, I’ll need to find someone to kill.
That’s what I’m made for, after all. It’s the only thing I’m good at.
I move toward the punching bag in the corner of the gym and slam my fists into it, over and over again. I don’t bother wrapping my hands. For every fucking wound Ezra carved into his flesh, I’ll tear the same into my knuckles and elbows on the bag.
Well into burning off steam, my music cuts off. I spin around to find Rev leaned against the wall behind me, dressed in only his black pajama pants. He takes in the beads of blood rolling down my fingers to plop on the floor.
“We need to talk,” he says in a chilling tone.
Jaw clenching, I turn back to the bag and throw out another series of hard punches.
“I haven’t seen you lose it like this in a while, Cain,” Rev says over the solid thud of my fists. “Is this about Lenny or the pictures I sent you of Ezra? Or maybe something you’re not telling me about?”
I growl in irritation, giving my throbbing hands a shake. “Can’t I just work this shit out of my system without needing to talk about it?”
“Yeah, sure. Whatever you need,” Rev replies with sarcasm, moving into the boxing ring and motioning me over. “You might actually stand a chance tonight. I worked out too hard with our pretty Ezra.”
Gritting my teeth, I take the bait. We square up in the ring and circle each other like sharks, two predators out to see who is the better killer.
I’d feel bad for beating on Rev, but the guy’s mastered some moves. He spent time street fighting for money after his three tours in the military. Couldn’t find his way back into society after murdering hundreds of people.
In a way, Sinro has been his therapy. Not only does he meet with Isaac weekly, but he’s worked his way up the ranks in my company, earning every single promotion.
He’s earned his team’s respect, too. Rev jokes that he just wants to keep his scorecard clean. Doesn’t want any company deaths tarnishing his perfect record out on operations. But I know that some part of him does actually care about his employees, however small it may be.
Rev strikes at me without warning, delivering a blow to my side. I grunt against the pain and return a punch, flinging blood everywhere. He blocks it and swings at me with his other fist, taking advantage of the fact that I forget he’s left-handed. The successful blow knocks the air right out of me.
“Fucker,” I wheeze, pacing around him in the ring to catch my breath.
We continue this back and forth until we’re both dripping sweat and panting. I manage to catch him in the ribs a few times. Twice in the cheek. But he definitely kicks my ass, dropping me to the floor with a heavy hook to the jaw.
Hovering over me with a grin, Rev asks, “Ready to talk, big boy?”
I rock up to a seated position and peel off my shirt, using it to soak up the sweat dripping down my face and the blood still oozing from my split knuckles.
“You already know what’s up,” I mutter, tossing my ruined shirt aside. “Lenny’s death fucking set me off.”
