I’d kill for a love like Jax and Suzy’s.
The sigh that falls from my lips lets Suzy know that I’m getting lost in my head, so she moves for a change of subject, closing a metal door behind her as she shuffles us into another room. There are less people crying out and begging for their lives in this one. I’m grateful for the quiet.
“Enough about me. What’s new with you? How are you really settling in?” she sings-songs, jumping onto a bed with black satin sheets and getting comfortable as she tucks a pillow under her chest.
“Too early to tell, I think. My boss has a stick wedged so far up her arse, she must taste tree sap at minute intervals, there are patients that don’t really seem like patients that appear to have free reign, and then there’s—” I abruptly stop talking, unsure of how to describe my encounter with Ezra.
“There’s what? Who? Dear God, woman, share with the room.”
“Ezra Wolfe…” His name is barely a whisper on a soft exhale, but Suzy catches it regardless.
“Have you consulted your cards?” she asks excitedly, reaching over and pouring herself a shot of tequila from where it sits on her bedside table.
I’m about to say something when she beats me to the punch.
“It’s 8 pm somewhere in the world, lose the judgement,” she squawks with a grin. “Come on, Mystic Meg, break out the fortunes, and let’s see what your future holds.” She downs her shot without reacting, welcoming the burn of the alcohol and claps her hands together, waiting expectantly as she glances at my suitcase on the bed beside me. Suzy’s beliefs are limited to Karma doling out justice where it sees fit, but she’s never balked at my beliefs of a more spiritual path. She’ll poke fun, and I welcome it, but deep down, I think she misses my daily horoscopes and the soothing art of a rose quartz crystal or two.
I scramble for the stack of romance books she’d neatly tied together with rope before I left home and carry them and the phone over to the dresser, propping it up against them so she can get a better view of the room.
“How’s the monster porn coming along?” she asks when she catches sight of the book she loaned me with a bookmark protruding from the centre.
“I can’t get a guy with one dick, let alone a seven-foot blue alien with four. I mean how would that even work?” I immediately regret my question.
“Well…” she chuckles heartily, getting comfortable for story time. “So there’s an angle—” she continues, but I cut her off with an‘are-you-fucking-kidding-me’eye roll as my hands slide down onto my hips in the ultimateI’m-not-mad-I’m-dissapointedmother pose.
“I wasn’t asking for an otherworldly Kama Sutra play-by-play, Suze.”
“Killjoy,” she sasses. “You need to be more clear with your questions.” She laughs, pouring herself another drink.“8:04,” she reiterates smugly with a raised authoritative finger, swallowing back that one too.
Being open with Suzy is as easy as breathing. She’s my one and only true friend in this fucked up world. But I know she’s hurting right now, hence the pre-emptive tequila shots before noon. She can put on a face that keeps the world at bay. We’re inherently skilled at it after what we’ve been forced to endure, but she will never be able to hide her pain from me. That man that Jax has tied up in the other room had seared his maliciousness into her very soul the night he’d paid for her company, and although he deserves everything he is getting in there, the reminders of that night still warrant a shot or two of something stronger than a glass of Sauvignon Blanc. Trauma is funny that way—it pretends it’s been dealt with, only for you to realise it was just hiding this whole time, lurking in the shadows of your psyche to offer one last jump scare when you least expect it.
Before she can spiral, I distract her. “He towers over me, sinfully good looking, tattooed extensively from what I could see of him, and I’m in desperate need of an underwear change because my hoo-ha is a traitorous bitch that is now hungry and desperate for the forbidden psychopathic patient,” I reel off my initial thoughts of Ezra and see her visibly relax as she brings the phone closer to her face.
Her rosebud lips hover up close over the camera when she replies, “Don’t be shy. Tell me everything. Sounds like day one has had a far more interesting start than you were letting on.”
CHAPTER SIX
EZRA
Two rooms, one steeped in light, one in shadow. Her side breathing with a new sense of rejuvenation the longer she fills the space; my side constricting and hidden away, the mirror divide reflecting back a shadow of the monster that lingers inside me. I’m not a good man. I’ve never professed to be, but the tangible connection I feel tethering me to this woman allows me for the briefest of moments to believe that maybe one day, I could be better—for her.
I shut down the thought as memories from my past hit me full pelt, my wicked soul’s reminder that I deserve nothing but to be left here to wither, rot, and die in this hell hole.
‘Irredeemable men must live with the choices they’ve made,’my father’s voice creeps forward, but I shake it away. I refuse to let him sully this moment with her.
I’ll watch her—like this—without her knowing I’m even here.
I’d found this cramped room with the two-way mirror accidentally, and before now I had never seen a use for it. I don’t know what pervert had it installed, but right now as she busies herself with the rest of her unpacking, I am fucking grateful he did.
I suddenly feel something that I haven't felt for years—nerves bubbling away in my belly, the shifting thunk of my heart thudding against my ribs. I’ve taken what I want without permission for as long as I can remember, so why do I yearn to drop to my knees and ask this woman to be mine? Why does the idea of her wanting me out of choice rather than coercion have me practically giddy? I’m not about to prance around like some fairytale prince—have you ever seen a bear do the samba—uncoordinated is inherently a part of my nature. Being 6’3 and built like a brick shit house, graceful isn’t an attribute I’ve heard used before. I could easily break her if I hold on too tight, and even though I know that - I still can’t walk away.
She deserves to be cared for, soothed, worshipped.
Her friend’s voice quietens the ramblings in my head, and I immerse myself once again into Cara’s world beyond the mirror. “No time like the present—if he’s as intense as you’re suggesting, the cards are bound to offer some insight,” she says, urging Cara to pull a small bundled silk-wrapped package from her suitcase. Untying the loose knot of fabric reveals an old deck of cards. Cara holds them between her palms before she fans them out on the dresser top with nimble fingers.
Selecting one at random, she holds it up to her friend. I catch sight of the boyish glint lighting up my face in my reflection when I see the depiction of a wolf beast cradling a woman, a black forest of trees behind them.
“Well, fuck me sideways, that is a sign if ever I saw one. Maybe there is something in this divination stuff.” Cara grins at Suzy’s teasing tone.
