Eventually, they parted and settled into each other’s embrace.
“What’s your name?” she asked, barely above a breath.
Silence.
Then, he said, “Ry.”
Chapter 13
Ezra
They were acting strangely. Ryker would hardly look at him this morning.
Willow was blindfolded again while they ate waffles and sausage he’d found buried in the chest freezer. They could send their captive into the other room, but he didn’t trust her not to try something. Especially now that Ryker had put a complete ban on tying her hands.
Ezra glanced around the room. He really needed to sort through the place more thoroughly, maybe get rid of some of the old stuff. The couch cushions sagged, and the blanket his aunt had knitted was draped over the back, concealing a couple of tears from years of use.
He’d spent so much time here—back when his dad was fucking up too much to take care of him anymore.
“What are you doing getting caught up with this, Ezzy? You’re better than your dad!”
Rick’s words were getting louder in his head the longer he stayed. He only ever visited to make sure the place hadn’t been broken into and to keep up with maintenance. Rick had beenso disappointed in him the first time he got busted and sent to juvie at fifteen. At least he’d passed before Ezra had truly fallen to the depths. Stuck in a world of crime.
At least he’d be glad I didn’t shoot this girl in the head.
Willow’s brows came together, as if she’d heard his thoughts. Her black hair was messy and tangled. It hadn’t been the most comfortable sleeping arrangement, but he’d been so exhausted that even the storm couldn’t keep him up.
“Can I shower today?” Willow asked.
Ryker cut in. “If you tell her no, I’ll fuckin’ deck you.”
That caught him off guard. His friend was getting more defensive of this girl, and he wasn’t sure why. Willow turned her head and offered Ryker a coy little smile.
“What the fuck is going on between you?” Ezra demanded, jealousy burning inside his chest.
“Nothing,” he replied. “There’s just no reason to be a dick to her.”
“Fine.” Ezra pulled the van keys from his pocket and held them out. “She can have her shower… and you can drive down to see if the road is clear.” The wind had died down a bit, but the cleanup always took time. He had no expectation that the way was passable, but he wanted Willow to himself for a little bit. There was definitely something going on, and he was going to find out what.
Uncertainty flickered across Ryker’s face, but he shot out of his chair and yanked the keys from his grasp. He pulled on his coat and headed for the door. “I mean it, man. Be nice.”
Ezra waved him off, keeping his focus on Willow, still sitting there. He pulled his mask on before removing the blindfold.
No fear. She never showed fear. Instead, she returned a glare that could make Satan flinch. The door slammed in his periphery as Ryker dashed outside to the van.
“So,” she started, “are you going to be a dick or can I shower?”
He sat back in his chair, taking a casual position. “Tell me something first.”
Her eyes nearly rolled out of her head. “What do you want to know?”
“Is it Davidiuk?” He needed to be sure. Questions about her and Ryker could come later; he wanted to observe first.
“I have no idea who that is.”
The answer sounded sincere. Maybe she was telling the truth. “Why do you have all those scars?”
Her jaw clenched. “You didn’t say there would be follow-up questions.”
