In Covenant with Ezra (Love Unaccounted Book 1)

by Love Belvin

  I found my head shaking at my annoyance, then quickly corrected it to a nod.

  “Ye-yes,” I murmured, wetting my lips. “I’m fine.”

  “Okay.” He slowly backed away. “Can I get you anything…lotion, pajamas?”

  “No,” slipped nastily.

  From behind me, I could hear him back away and out of the room, closing the door. I let out a deep sigh then went about drying myself, though all I wanted was to crawl into my bed and forget this night ever happened. What would tomorrow look like after this? I could never return to Redeeming Souls. So many thoughts coursed my mind as I finished drying myself and searched a drawer for pajamas to put on.

  I was lotioning my feet when soft raps hit my door.

  “Are you decent, Alexis?”

  How fucking odd of a question, Ezra!

  “Yes,” I answered instead.

  He opened the door and I saw a glass of water and small saucer in his hands. When he stopped next to me expectantly, I petulantly rolled my eyes over to glance into the plate. He’d sliced a banana in perfectly matching sizes and fashioned them in a circle on the saucer with a fork.

  “You need to hydrate if you have any cares to face the morning after a night of drinking. And the banana will help with that as well as give you some vitamin B to counteract the dehydration and potassium levels and improve muscle function.”

  My eyes fell. I didn’t know how to respond to that. Though still feeling remnants of the alcohol floating in my system, I certainly was no longer intoxicated. He’d blown my blotto with his freakish punishment. I swallowed hard at the remembrance.

  “Thank you.” This time that response did feel appropriate.

  After I was done with my feet, I awkwardly forked a banana slice. It made me nervous to mess up his artful display. It also pissed me off that he was still here. After the second banana I grabbed the water to rinse my mouth. Not realizing how thirsty I actually was, I gulped damn near the entire glass. Before I could place it back on the nightstand, Ezra took it from me and left the room.

  His leaving gave me a moment to think. Why was he still here? It was clear he was helping me, but I didn’t need that. Did he want to have sex after all? Would I be okay with it if that were the case? Admittedly, I fantasized fanatically about it, but suddenly it felt wrong. Forbidden. But why? It was because although there was undeniable attraction between us, Ezra had always kept us in safe holdings from inappropriate behavior. Even when I pushed him to kiss me, I knew he was holding back; he even left without coming into my apartment to possibly see how much further we’d go. Now, I felt like he’d been protecting himself…protecting me from something. Maybe it was this unidentifiable guilt that felt like a ball in my chest. I guessed this was what happened when you fucked a preacher.

  But he hadn’t touched me. I’d come like a maniac without the benefit of his touch. His mere presence assisted in my unraveling. This was crazy!

  I didn’t realize Ezra had returned until he was in front of me, handing me a refilled glass of water. I grabbed it and took another generous sip. It was more out of fortitude. I had to stop this. Maybe it was because of my role at the rec, always having to deliver decisions and enforce policies for people with nothing to lose that I could no longer avoid telling him what was best.

  “Ummmm…” I licked my lips, unable to look him in the face. “Ezra—”

  “Alexis, I’m leaving. Just finish the water so I can do so assured you’ve been somewhat hydrated when you awake in the morning.” There was that quiet command in his tone.

  I could compromise. I’d do as he said so he could go. This was growing more painfully stilted by the second. I downed the remainder of the water. Seconds later, Ezra turned for the door. He stopped at the frame.

  He rounded his neck to face me, humility lining his chocolate lochs. “I pushed too hard, and for that I apologize.” There was a pause as he took a deep breath and I could see his fist clench at his thigh. “I hope to see you around, Alexis.” And then he left quietly.

  My shoulders dropped. That cocktail of emotions I felt after he humiliated me came back in spades. I leaped off the bed to go lock the door and then ran back to my bed covering my mouth, pushing back the sobs. I let them go when I dove between my sheets and buried my face in my pillow, letting out a gut-felt cry.

  The next morning, I woke up to a fuzzy head and dry mouth. I glanced over to my nightstand for my phone and saw the plate of half eaten bananas. That reminded me of what sent me to bed in tears. The sight of it caused a wave of emptiness to undulate me.

  Why?

  Why was I so emotional? What is it about Ezra that’s so damn enthralling? He was a weird, arrogant, controlling and—now clearly freaky—ass. I lay there frozen in thought until I could hold my pounding bladder no longer and got up to empty it.

  While on the toilet and absent-mindedly observing my red toes, my eyes scrolled up to where his feet must’ve been placed while he waited for me to bathe last night. He stood there with applied patience and great calm. I went to wipe myself and jolted at the slight sensitivity from my clit while images from my orgasm marathon were synapsing in my brain. My pulse sped and thighs clenched together. I washed my hands and went back to my room.

  On my way, I heard a knock on my door and headed straight there. After unlocking and swinging it open, I slapped my hand on my hip.

  “You could always use your key,” I hissed, unable to hide my already shitty disposition. “What if I were sleeping?”

  Ms. Remah bypassed me and gaited over to the table where she placed a casserole dish.

  “Then yuh would’ve woken up from having to get up and open the door. Dun’t get foul with me, child! I brought breakfast.” She tutted then went over to the cabinets, for dishes I assumed.

  Too annoyed to deal with her, I stomped like a child back to my room and grabbed my phone to finally find out what time it was. I went to text Nyree about meeting up today, but when I got into the text app I saw a blue dot next to Ezra’s name. I clicked on it and caught the copious number of missed texts from him. I counted eleven and they all, according to the timestamp and the content, came in before he barged into the club and hauled me over his shoulder. They all were to the tune of, “Where are you, Alexis?” or “You would be wise to answer me right now.” The last read, “I’m on my way.”

  Shaking my head, full of self-loathing, I realized I was so drunk last night that when I called Anushka to check in, I didn’t notice the notification of missed texts.

  And there was my missed warning.

  This Ezra was an anomaly in its purest form. However, one thing was for sure: I wasn’t allowing him in my head any more. I was done!

  “Lexi!” I heard Ms. Remah shout from the kitchen. “C’mon!”

  “Here I come!” my tone just as urgent as I slammed my phone into the mattress, grabbed my housecoat and made my way to the table for breakfast.

  “You’ll be fine,” I scolded. “Stop fidgeting, woman.”

  “Lexi!” Ms. Remah warned as she searched her big bag for her wallet as the woman at the checkin station waited.

  We’d just placed her bag on the carrier. This was it. It was the day she would leave me for her hometown. My heart expanded with happiness for her trip and my stomach retched with angst at the thought of having her grumpiness so far from me.

  Finally, she found it and handed her identification over. That’s when I found myself restless, eyes bouncing all over to distract me from mounting anxiousness. She would be with her family, including her sister, Lillian’s mom, she’d always claimed to despise. I knew it was because she felt inferior to her, never having been married or having children. I wished I could be there to protect her if they got into a sister fight. Ms. Remah could handle herself, but she was mine to protect. She was a wonderful person and shouldn’t be looked at as anything less than a generous, good-hearted woman.

  “Okay,” the woman at the counter snapped my trance. “You’re all set. Enjoy your flight.
” She smiled.

  Ms. Remah didn’t, and I wondered if she knew how when caught off guard. I thanked the woman, a little too colorfully to compensate for her.

  I took her at the shoulders, stepping away from the desk to make room for the next person in line, and walked her in the direction of her gate.

  “Listen, you can email me anytime. Remember what I taught you. I’ll be checking all day, every day for a correspondence. You just can’t text. We don’t have that service set up for you. It would be hella expensive, but if there’s an emergency, call me! Okay?”

  “Lexi!” she cried, exasperated. “I nuh your child! I done been home before. I been on airplane before yuh bossy ass born! I’ll be okay, yuhnuh.”

  I recoiled. I guess I did lay it on thick.

  “I’m just nervous, okay! I’m not used to this.” I grimaced.

  “Go!” she more or less gruffed from her belly. “Lilly waiting on yuh.”

  She was right. It was so frustrating that I had to take my lunch—an extended lunch—to ride to JFK with them because Ms. Remah refused Lillian’s offer to take her alone. She was one stubborn woman, and with family no less.

  Okay…

  “Well, can I at least get a hug?” I shrieked modestly.

  Ms. Remah rolled her eyes and extended one arm. I embraced her tightly with two.

  “Oh, my lawd,” she murmured into my shoulder.

  “You should be nice to me,” I advised, pulling back. “I need all the good energy I can get about this job thing. I’m praying the city extends our funding for at least another year, and then I can look for a job while waiting it out. So, hope for good news when you return.”

  “I’mma pray to come home to you married to a good man,” she hissed.

  It was my turn to roll my eyes.

  I waved her off, and as she began her hike to her respective boarding gate, I whispered, “I love you, Ms. Cranky.”

  Ezra

  “So, what’s the problem, son?” he asked, his tone a mixture of curiosity, confusion, and annoyance.

  As I sat reclined behind the office in the Bishop’s lounge, I sighed. “I was inappropriate with her, Bishop.” And unaccustomed to confessions.

  “Oh,” he chuckled affectionately, his cultural buoyance highlighting. “We’re having a James 5:16 moment, aye?” his thick West Indian tongue springing.

  I sighed. “’Confess your faults one to another, and pray one for another, that ye may be healed. The effectual fervent prayer of a righteous man availeth much.’” I mumbled the quote.

  “Is she offended in the lawful sense?” In the modulation of his tone, though typical, I could sense the alarm.

  “Not in the lawful manner, but perhaps dismissive.”

  “And she’s the one?” Well versed with my life and calling, he was asking for confirmation.

  “I’m ninety-nine point nine percent sure of it.”

  The line went silent.

  Bishop Jones had been my mentor and friend for over twenty years. He was one of the few who kept track of me while I traveled abroad after Pepperdine. He knew of my departure from the Faith and why, but vowed to never allow me to stray too far, in a spiritual sense. He kept his word, and to this very day, he’s one of my most trusted confidants.

  “Ezra, when a man of your calling is near a point of elevation, particularly with your charge, the stakes are raised. You have principalities working against you. Your flesh is something you can control while you battle those supernatural things you cannot.” He paused for his words to permeate. I’d known Bishop long enough to discern it. “Do you follow me, son?”

  “Yes, sir, I do.”

  “So, you can protect yourself, and her…and the ministry,” he noted animatedly.

  If I still have a shot at her.

  “I can try, sir.”

  “Why just try, Ezra?”

  I sat up, placed my elbows on the desk and wiped over my mustache and beard as I exhaled.

  Images of Alexis’ lanky frame as tall as a giraffe grazing the safari with luminous sienna skin and natural hair to her back, the texture of wool came to mind. And when she was on that bed, thick thighs trembling with sensual torture under my ministrations—

  “Bishop, I’ve never been so drawn to a woman. Her natural inclination to be of high risk and worldly…challenging, keeps me on edge and when she crossed the line that’s anonymous to her—and understandably so—I lost control and responded to her as though she already belonged to me.”

  “In due time, Ezra. In the meantime, you must toe the line. Don’t compromise the Kingdom at the point of turning the corner.”

  “And in the meantime?”

  She’s not speaking to me…

  I combed through my beard with my fingertips, frustrated more than ashamed. That was what concerned me. I should feel remorse for the sin, and instead, I felt the panic from the possibility of her ending things before we got started. All because of my temper.

  “I’m not concerned about your meantime, Ezra. You’re in a space with God. He knows your name and understands your weaknesses. You’ve been disciplined with your walk…faithful in your pursuit to fulfill His will.” He snorted out of turn as he typically did. “Jacob was left alone, and a man wrestled with him till daybreak. When the man saw that he could not overpower him, he touched the socket of Jacob’s hip so that his hip was wrenched as he wrestled with the man. Then the man said, ‘Let me go, for it is daybreak.’ But Jacob replied, ‘I will not let you go unless you bless me.’ That’s you, Ezra. You’ve wrestled stubbornly with the Great One, insistent on negotiating, and have survived. You’ve waited this long for her. You’ll simply have to wait for this to work itself out.

  “Sometimes we have to let things work themselves out after we’ve made a mess out of them to begin with. If there’s one thing God doesn’t like, it is mortal man attempting to do what only He can do. You have to wait this one out, son.”

  “Received, Bishop. Thanks for your time.” No less weighted, I prepared to end the call.

  “Ezra, you’re too hard on yourself. I, more than most, know what’s riding on this. I know God honors your tenacity and patience. We have the proclivity to view ourselves as herculean, son,” his Caribbean accent flaring from excitement. “From Abraham to Peter, and so on and so forth, God has shown the flaws of man, biblically. You’re no different. God has never used a perfect man, except Jesus Christ, to edify His Kingdom. So tighten up your conduct. Things will work out. Let me know if you need anything. I don’t believe in roping women up, rendering them helpless like you, but you know there’s very little else I wouldn’t do for you, son.”

  I chuckled silently at the roping pun.

  “I appreciate you, Bishop.”

  “You as well, sir,” he returned before we disconnected.

  As soon as the phone was in the cradle, the line buzzed.

  I tapped the conference key. “Yes, Sister Shannon.”

  “Pastor Carmichael, Jackson Hunter is here to see you.”

  Jackson? I didn’t know many Jacksons and only knew of one in the area. But I hadn’t been expecting him.

  “Pastor?” she called.

  “Please send him back, Sister Shannon.”

  Minutes later the door opened after a considerate knock and Sister Shannon appeared. Behind her was Stenton’s friend, Jackson.

  “Jackson, what a surprise.” I rose from my seat and rounded the desk to greet him with a handshake.

  “Rever—”

  “Please, Jackson. It’s Ezra. Have a seat.” I directed him to the sofa area of the office.

  I could sense the weights he carried in with him. Much of the indications were in his eyes. They were heavy and troubled. But with what?

  “I see you’re a true player,” Jackson jeered, referring to the illuminated chess set with acrylic pieces. It was one of many sets I’d collected over the years. Chess had been my most preferred pastime for years now. I played everywhere and hardly skipped a day. I’d been
playing lots of it today, working out probabilities of this situation with Alexis. Bishop was correct in assessing I had a lot riding on this woman. She was perfect.

  “Yeah,” I sighed. “It’s a thinking man’s activity. And I’ve had lots to consider recently. But that’s neither here nor there. Tell me about you. It was good seeing you at the baptism.”

  “Yeah.” Jackson chuckled. “Your beard has grown out a lot since then,” he observed.

  That was amusing. Jackson was a beard man himself, only he kept his low, I noted.

  “It has, man. Once I decided to go for it, it just sprouted!” It really did.

  I caught myself wondering if Alexis would’ve preferred me without had I met her months sooner. Then it hit me.

  “What does your associate, the one I met at the baptism, think of you alternating?” The risqué question was more of an ice breaker or inquiry for follow up.

  I couldn’t recall her name, but her presence was vivid in my memory: golden alabaster skin, blonde curly hair, dark eyes and impeccably garbed. She’d been so tense during the ceremony and I couldn’t focus on why until after it was over and we were at the reception. That’s when I had time to furtively pray and was shown the bones she carried with her, and unnecessarily. I could also perceive the intimacy between her and Jackson, though she didn’t want that highlighted.

  “Well, Ezra, that very associate is what had me leave the office for a walk well before lunch. That walk turned into an unusual need to talk. And that unusual need to talk had me take a leap of faith, so to speak, and come seek you out on a whim.”

  Though Jackson attempted humor, I could feel the pain and confusion emanating from him. I sat back in the cushioned seat, took a deep breath.

  “A whim?” I smiled. “I, too, skipped out on work, needing ‘a moment’ myself. In my culture, those ‘whim’ moments are hardly random: not when they happen at the same time, bring two unsuspecting people together. What’s on your heart?”