“Pecking order?”
“Pecking order,” he confirms. He lifts his hand over his head. “You’ve got your son up here, which, yeah, I get it.” He lowers his hand a few inches. “Then you’ve got Johnny, way up here.” He lowers his hand even lower. “Then there’s your stupid Core Four.” A little lower this time. “And then there’s your ex-wife.” He jerks his hand up higher. “Even if she apparently wishes she was up here, with both you and Johnny.” Being as dramatic as humanly possible, he leans down, his hand only a few inches above the floor. “And then there’s me, survivingon breadcrumbs of devotion.” He clenches his jaw. “At least I know where I stand. Next to nothing, lower than low.”
Johnny scrubs his face before telling Jaden, “I’d say he ain’t always like this, but that would be a lie.” The moment Jaden’s hand touches Johnny’s, Ezra’s eyes turn to narrow slits. “That’s how you play it now? The wife wasn’t enough to fill your love tank, so now you’ve got to beget the son and heir?”
Johnny blinks at him. “I don’t know what those words mean.”
“Yes, I’m well aware of your limited vocabulary, and any other day, I might take a moment to cuddle you and tell you it’s alright that you don’t know big words, because I know them all, and I’m happy to break it down into simpler terms, but not today. Not after what I witnessed earlier. I’m absolutely livid with you, Jonathan.”
“What?” Johnny’s eyes widen. “You’re mad at me now?”
“Much more than mad. You’re lucky you still have an intact head. A lesser man would have removed it from your body already.” He closes his eyes, deeply breathing again, pursing his lips as he slowly blows out. “I inhale love, I exhale rage.” He reaches for the tarot cards but stops halfway, shaking his head. Changing course, he places his hand on either side of his crystal ball, making my heart race. I’ve never seen him work with the ball. I guess I just assumed it was only for show. My stomach spins, because I’m a little nervous about what the ball will reveal. Will he see all the times I’ve busted a nut while staring at his pictures? Is he going to find out I’ve already used the L-word while talking about him with Dallas and Clint? He moves his hands around mystically, like he’s clearing smoke from his field of view, creating a clearer picture. “The thing is, when spirits are at play, nothing can be hidden away. And, yes, Bubs. I’m aware that was a lovely rhyme.”
“Faulkner?” I ask, but my baby just shakes his head.
“La Toya Jackson,” he corrects me. “Or maybe it was Rebbie Jackson. I’m not entirely sure. Neither of their discographies are particularly memorable. The point is, whatever you bastards are hiding is about to come out. You better fucking believe I’m going to talk about it. The spirits never lie.”
“They lied when you accused me of trying to kill Daddy in an insurance fraud plot,” Austin points out. “You called the police, Ezra.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake. You’re still complaining about that? Tell me, Aussie, are you big mad? Are you gonna cry real hard? Are you gonna go ‘wah-wah-wah,’ all the way home?”
Austin folds his arms in front of his chest and huffs. “Prick.”
“You love me.”
“Debatable.”
“You called the police on him?” Johnny asks, but Ezra just flips him off,
“I see the future, I see the past,” he says, staring into the crystal ball. “I see an absolute jackass.” His eyes dart back and forth between Faith and Johnny. “The crystal ball sees all. Let’s see what she wants to show us today. Let’s find out what diabolical deeds Barbara is about to bring to light.” His eyes narrow as he glares at Johnny. “Your cheeks are a little flushed, Jonathan. Are you scared of what I’m about to see? Is there some sordid little secret hiding in your closet?”
Johnny swallows. “No. It’s just really hot in here.”
“The air conditioner is on sixty,” he retorts.
“It’s on what?” I ask sternly. “Ezzy, we’ve talked about the thermostat. You’re not allowed to put it any lower than sixty-nine.”
“And if you ever want to experience another sixty-nine again, you will butt out of this conversation. I adore you, Bubs, but don’t you dare pick a side.” He pauses, chewing his cheek, looking more precious than he has any right to. “Unless you pick my side.”
“I’m not picking a damn side. I’m reprimanding you.”
“Tomato, potato,” he says, fixing his gaze back on the ball. “Oh, what’s this? A homewrecker and a man who claims to care for me, locking lips like absolute bastards? Barbara, dear, why on Earth would you show me this? I don’t understand.”
Okay, well, I know he ain’t really talking to Barbara, because he’s got this deranged twitch in his eye, and he only ever looks visibly annoyed with Barbara, not like he’s ready to throw away the next twenty-to-life for murder. Ezra flings his arm, aiming a finger right at Johnny. “It’s you.”
Johnny swallows nervously. “What is?”
“Listen to me, jackoff. If you think I’m going to let you make me fall for you, only for you to fall madly in love with someone else, leaving me high and dry, you’re gravely mistaken. I’m not Austin Snowden. I’m not going to sit around, sobbing into your coveralls for ten years because my mom is fucking the man I love, and I’m too much of a chicken-shit to do anything about it.”
Dallas gapes at him, but Austin just tilts his head to the side and nods. “An accurate—albeit brutal—assessment of our love story.”
“I trusted you, Johnny. I told you I was scared, and you said I didn’t have to be scared anymore. You said I wouldn’t ever have to be on my own again. You promised.”
“And I meant it. You ain’t got to worry about getting hurt anymore, Little Dick. You won’t be alone, because you’ve got me. I don’t understand what’s happening. Just tell me what I did wrong, and I’ll make it right.”
“Little Dick?” Faith and Jaden whisper together.
Ezra shakes his head decidedly, turning his attention back to his crystal ball, moving his hands around it like one of those static electricity science fair projects that make your hair stand on end. He’s gazinginto it deeply like he’s searching out grains of rice hidden in sand. Something must be clear in the crystal ball, because Ezra’s eyebrows meet like he’s lost in the image painted in front of him, and the sass leaves him momentarily.
