“Would you like to hold it?” he asked, pulling the pistol from its harness as he noticed my stare. He gripped it with the strength and fondness of one who was used to it.
“Aren’t you afraid of me turning it on you or something?” I didn’t even know why I put that particular idea in his head.
Ezekiel smiled without a trace of doubt. “No.”
“I don’t know if I should…” I didn’t harbor warm feelings toward guns. Blade had turned one on me once or twice, and so had a few of my more deranged customers.
“You should know how to handle one.” Ezekiel stepped close and took my hand. He placed the grip in my palm. It was heavier than I had imagined, and much too large for my hand. “Just in case.”
I closed my fingers around it and held it up, pointing it at the far wall. It was terrifying and exhilarating, holding this much power. All it took was one squeeze of a finger to end someone’s life. I could see why a person might feel invincible with such a weapon in hand.
“You like it?” he asked.
“I feel…”
“Powerful?” Ezekiel nodded. “Guns are a fascination of mine. They’re my true guardian angels.” He ran a finger along the pistol’s barrel. “They keep me safe, watch over me.”
“They also kill people.”
“You don’t have to worry about that.” He stepped closer, reaching under my lace robe and running a hand along my bare back. “I’d never turn one on you.”
I turned to look at him. I could see very little in his gaze, and what I did see was exactly what he wanted me to. I’d never met a man with such perfectly manufactured walls. Usually, men came to me to unwind and let their barriers down, so I was used to seeing men’s vulnerabilities on top of their darkest desires. But Ezekiel’s face was as impenetrable as stone, as if he hadn’t told a blatant lie. Of course he’d turn one on me if he had to. Yet his eyes seemed to speak the truth.
“They still kill people.”
Ezekiel sighed and took the gun from me. He returned it to his holster, then removed the harness from his torso. He threw it onto the dresser, along with his shirt once he’d unbuttoned it. He looked strange in his dress slacks and white tank top, like a contrast between casual and formal. Blade always wore tank tops, and sometimes he even wore the bloodstained ones. He was extremely proud of his tattoo sleeves and the chest he acquired through strenuous exercise. Blade hadn’t been hard on the eyes from the neck down, but he paled in comparison to Ezekiel. Blade’s body had been the result of what hard work could do despite poor dietary habits. Ezekiel’s body was not only a product of good genetics but also the best possible diet and training equipment. His only imperfection was a scar that ran along his collarbone, but of course like with most superficial scars, it only made him look more rugged and dangerous.
I wonder how many women have seen him like this. Ezekiel himself had admitted he wasn’t much impressed by most women, so I imagined I was one of the few. Of all the nicknames for him in Metro, “player” was not one.
“You think I’ll hurt you?” Ezekiel asked.
“I don’t know.”
“Just because I have a fondness for guns and violence doesn’t mean I beat women. I’m not Blade.” His lip curled at the name. “Blade is an ignorant piece of shit.”
I remembered the women who turned up dead because they couldn’t pay their debts, and the whispers that always tied them to Ezekiel. “You don’t spare women because they’re women.”
“No, I don’t. If I have a logical reason to kill them, I do. I have a business, and murder makes the machine run smoothly. If people aren’t frightened, they do nothing. Fear is the tool, and murder is its manufacturer. However, Melissa, you aren’t part of the machine. I’ve given you everything. You owe nothing. And why would I hurt someone who has no debts to me?” He raised his eyebrows.
“If I’ve made you feel threatened in some way…”
Ezekiel laughed. “Why even ask? Unless you’re planning on it…?” He raised his eyebrows, a silent challenge.
“I’m just saying.”
“Exploring the hypothetical is fruitless. And now look what you’ve done. Destroyed the mood. But, with you looking so stunning, it would be a shame to have the night go to waste.” He pulled off his beater and faced me.
I nodded. It was all business from here. Though lately, business wasn’t as gruesome. I wasn’t about to relish my position, but compared to the past few years of my life, this was as pleasant as the job could get. Silk sheets, designer lingerie, a customer who was beautiful. I didn’t wake up feeling worthless, because I knew any woman in my position would have done the same thing.
Ezekiel’s arms slid around my waist, forcing me against him. His mouth fell to my neck, and I bent my head back to give him access. For someone who so infrequently dealt with women, he had a finesse few men could understand. He was gentle with an edge of aggression. I kept wondering that if he weren’t Ezekiel—if he were some man I’d met in the street who had charmed me into bed—would I feel differently about him? Would I be turned on? He made all the right moves, so perhaps it was only my knowledge of his history that made me hesitant.
* * *
I woke up late, and Ezekiel was gone. I rolled over and shrieked.
“Sorry!” Roger said, throwing up his hands. “Uh, sorry. I was only checking up on you.”
I sat up, gathering the sheets around my naked torso. I wasn’t sure how much tit he’d seen from there, though I imagined he could access more impressive ones online if he was truly interested. Judging by his flushed expression, he hadn’t meant to see anything particularly private.
“No, it’s fine.” I shakily ran a hand over my hair. “You scared me a little, that’s all.”
Roger cleared his throat and stood taller. “Ezekiel told Rosa to accompany you to breakfast. Should I call her and tell her you’ll be down soon?”
“Yes.” I didn’t want to keep Rosa starving on my account. “Yes, I’ll be down as soon as I can.”
Roger nodded and left the room. I quickly reached for the dress placed on the edge of the bed for me. This one was a dark green with a string of little pearls along the top of the bodice. And, as always, the skirt was barely long enough to cover my ass.
I didn’t particularly want to talk to Rosa, not after our altercation the night before, but I didn’t suppose I had a choice. I slipped into the dress, put on a pair of matching pumps that had magically materialized at the foot of the bed, and sat down to do my makeup. I kept it sparing. I couldn’t do it nearly as well as Rosa, but I managed well enough. I didn’t want to take the time to straighten my hair, so I pulled it up into a bun on the back of my head and stabbed it with a pen I’d seen on the dresser top. I’d have to ask Rosa for something fancier at breakfast.
I met Roger in the main room. He was standing by the door, frowning at the screen of his cellphone. He snapped to attention when he noticed me.
“Good morning, Melissa,” he greeted stiffly.
“Morning.” I yawned, then gave him a soft smile. I had a few hours before cravings kicked in, so for now I could feel normal, like a sober person might. “You look a little tired.”
“I’m fine.”
“Hmm. Your tie looks wonky.”
“Huh?”
I stepped up to him and pointed to the skinny end of the tie jutting out from the fat end. “Were you in a hurry or something?”
“Oh, shit.” In any other circumstance, he probably wouldn’t have cared, but he was working for Ezekiel, and I didn’t think crooked ties were forgiven easily.
I stuck a finger into the knot to loosen it. It was an innocent intention, but Roger stepped away and undid it himself. I guess I looked a little hurt, because Roger glanced at me apologetically.
“Sorry,” I said. “I guess we’re not that good of friends, right?”
“It’s not that.” He unraveled the tie and started again. “It’s just…” He trailed off, but I understood.
“Ezekie
l,” I murmured. If Ezekiel happened to walk in on me fixing Roger’s tie, there could be the danger of jealousy. If so, Ezekiel would punish Roger first, and Roger certainly didn’t deserve the consequences of my actions.
“Yeah, kind of.” Roger finished the knot and tightened it. “Better now?”
“Yes, a lot better.”
“Good. Come on, then.” He held open the door for me, and I walked through. He followed.
“Are you going to see Rosa with me?” I asked.
“I’m your bodyguard. I have to.”
“Oh.” Right. I’d almost forgotten that his constant presence had a reason. “I still don’t see why I need one. I’m not exactly a top diplomat or anything.”
“People may hurt you to get to Ezekiel,” Roger said, stopping by the elevator.
“So he’s taking care of his assets.”
Roger shrugged.
“How did you get into being a bodyguard anyway? You don’t strike me as the kind of guy who would like that sort of thing.”
“I didn’t think I’d get into it, either. But when I got out of the army, I looked into the secret service. I went through all the training, but they made sudden cuts and Ezekiel picked me up from there.”
“So you went from working for the government to protecting a criminal.” I smirked at him as we stepped into the elevator. Roger looked at the operator and held his tongue. He didn’t answer until we stepped into the lobby and had some privacy again.
“Something like that, yeah.” He sighed. “Not my dream job, exactly, but to be fair, I wasn’t sure Ezekiel was into illegal activities until a few months into my employment. I was ready to quit, but Ezekiel…well, he offered me a raise and—”
“You couldn’t refuse.”
Roger ran a hand through his hair. “I sound like a sellout.”
“You’re talking to a hooker, remember?”
We headed out of the hotel and into the waiting black sedan. No limousines for pawns. Only for kings.
“How much does Ezekiel pay you?” I asked curiously.
“How much does he pay you?”
I tugged at the hem of my skirt while biting my lip. “Nothing, really. I guess you could say he provides for me. Anything I want, I get. It’s kind of a nice change compared to what I had.”
Roger nodded. “Ezekiel has a knack for targeting desperate people and handing out offers they can’t refuse.”
“You were desperate?”
Roger looked at his watch. “I should probably call Rosa and make sure she’s at the right rendezvous point.”
I could spot an attempt to avoid a touchy topic, so I let it go. I didn’t want to be nosy, as curious as I was. How could someone as well-groomed and put-together as Roger become desperate for cash? Was he on drugs like me? That didn’t seem possible. I could spot my own species without much trouble. No, Roger was clean. Did he have a criminal record that Ezekiel blackmailed him with? Some other secret he couldn’t let out? Or was it of a more innocent nature?
I didn’t know, but it wasn’t really my business. I turned to the window and watched the city of Goddess roll by. It looked less majestic by day—dirtier. But I wasn’t shocked. I’m sure that I came off as sexy to my customers in the dimly lit hotel rooms late at night. But put me in the light, and I was another awkward-looking girl with spidery legs and too many freckles.
It all made me wonder why people feared the night.
Chapter 15
I was taken to a classy restaurant where the tables were covered in actual white linen and the silverware could have very possibly been real silver. There was a maître d’ as well, and I almost laughed. I hadn’t known maître d’s actually existed. I thought TV shows pretended they did.
We were taken to a booth near the back. Rosa perched on her seat holding a champagne glass in one hand while she tapped the table with the other. She jolted and rose to a stand when she saw Roger and me approach.
“Melissa!” Her eyes moved to Roger.
“This is Roger,” I introduced.
“I know. I’ve met him several times. Why don’t you both sit?”
I wanted to ask where and how she’d met Roger, but I suppose it wasn’t strange that two of Ezekiel’s employees happened to meet. I let it go and sank into the booth across from Rosa.
“You look lovely,” Rosa said with a brittle smile.
I nodded and reached for the champagne bottle in the center of the table. I wasn’t one to drink alcohol in the morning, but I needed something to calm my nerves, especially since I hadn’t had a chance for a hit yet.
The waiter didn’t waste time. I couldn’t pronounce most of what was on the menu, and even if I could have, I still had no clue what it was. I went with the only thing I knew—quiche. And that was only after Roger told me how to pronounce it. I’d always assumed it was something like “quee-chee.” Even then, I didn’t really know what it was. I knew it was a word sometimes mentioned on TV.
“I’ve been told that we’re all staying here a week,” Rosa murmured. “What does he need a week down here for?”
“Business,” Roger muttered.
Rosa sighed. “Not business involving any of us, apparently.”
Roger shrugged. “I’m not one to complain.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t mind, but this is Ezekiel. And I have a bad feeling about the whole thing.”
“I wouldn’t worry about it.” Roger reached for his glass of water, which the waiter produced at his request. “Ezekiel makes sure business doesn’t leak into pleasure, and vice versa. If you’re expecting car chases down Main Avenue, you can forget it.”
“You seem to know him well.”
“I’ve been working with him for a year now.”
“And?” Rosa goaded.
Roger narrowed his eyes at her. “I’m not in the position to discuss Ezekiel’s business. That’s a good way to get in trouble. And by ‘get in trouble’, I don’t mean ‘get fired.’” He didn’t explain what he did mean, but I already assumed it meant something involving some degree of death.
Rosa turned to me. “We shouldn’t talk about this with you.”
“Why not?” I asked.
“You’re his companion.”
They really thought I was going to take Ezekiel’s side on this one? Wasn’t I worthy of their trust? “You think I’m a snitch?”
“Of course not.”
“You can say whatever you want about Ezekiel. I don’t think I’m bugged,” I joked.
Rosa and Roger looked at one another, then back to me. Roger said, “I don’t want to alarm you, since you’re closest to him.”
“I’m not close to him. I’m an employee who does what she’s told, like you two.” I slurped a bit too aggressively at my champagne.
“Maybe we should keep the gossip to a minimum,” Roger suggested. “Rosa, it’s best to stick with what you’re good at and don’t worry about Ezekiel.”
“Don’t worry about Ezekiel?” Rosa blurted. “Excuse me, but I’ve heard a great deal about him, none of it good. Do you honestly feel no qualms working for him?”
Roger sipped at his drink. “Maybe. Do you?”
“I wasn’t sure of what I was getting into in the beginning. I knew his business was shady, but I didn’t know how shady. So I came into this ignorant.”
“I did, too, at least a little. I knew what I was doing was illegal—protecting a criminal—but I wasn’t sure how illegal.” Roger glanced at me. “If you’re worried, Rosa, back out. Ezekiel won’t stop you. No one’s forcing you to stay.”
“It’s not even me I’m that worried about.” Rosa glanced at me. “It’s Melissa.”
“I can take care of myself,” I muttered. Five years ago, I might have needed a mother figure, but now I was a grown woman who didn’t appreciate being told what to do. Rosa was too late to put in an application.
“You think that. And maybe against your normal Metro scum, you can handle it. But Ezekiel is…he’s different, all right? I don’t know much
about his past, but I know he’s not your typical drug addict just out of high school. I’ve heard rumors that he went to a top university, graduated at the pinnacle of his class, joined the army, and picked up some—well, less pleasant tricks of a violent nature. He’s a psychopath, Melissa. No one expects you to—”
“A psychopath, Rosa? Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”
“You have to be a psychopath to run a drug operation in Metro. He’s hardly a good person.”
“I never said he was a good person. I doubt he has much of a conscience. He saw an opportunity to make a lot of money and took it, which I’m sure many in Metro would do if they had the means.”
“Who cares if someone else in Metro would do it? The problem is that he’s doing it, and he’s a psychopath.”
“If you aren’t buying drugs and you don’t sell his secrets, you’re safe from him. I’ve worked for him long enough to know that.”
“You’re his bodyguard, not his hired companion.”
I winced, but Rosa didn’t seem to notice.
“Once you bring sex and love into the equation, you’re in a whole new arena. A bodyguard is one thing. But Ezekiel feels differently about Melissa. He may not be paranoid, but he may get jealous. Never underestimate the dark depths of a man’s jealousy. Men do all kinds of terrible shit to the women they think they own.”
“I’m sure Ezekiel doesn’t think he owns her. Melissa, hasn’t he told you that you can leave at any time?”
This argument sounded very close to winding out of control, so I watched my words carefully. “Yes.”
“See? He has laid down the parameters of the job, and if Melissa doesn’t like them, she can always leave.”
I nodded in agreement, but I wasn’t sure. Ezekiel said I could walk away from that date on the yacht, but he hadn’t mentioned the arrangement since. Could I walk away? Even after he’d bought me so many expensive toys? I didn’t like to think about it.
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