Luckily, I can access the surveillance app from my laptop. It just won’t be as convenient as my phone. I click around on different files out of boredom. Most of them are pictures I’ve taken of landscapes or buildings. A few of animals are scattered here and there. All my work from the Bruisers is on the laptop they gave me, which I left at the arena. I’m sure I won’t be getting that job back.
I sigh and rub hard at my eyes with the heels of my hands. I love photography. I love being able to stare down the lens and capture the way things make me feel. It was the only thing I refused to give up when my life demanded I leave everything behind. Sometimes I wonder if it’s the only part left that’s still me. Still Ezra. It’s probably why I felt so at home with Declan. Even when I was pretending to be Ben, I think I was just the Ezra I wanted to be. The Ezra I should have been. Maybe the Ezra I can become at the end of this.
The screen blinks red, alerting me to someone on the dirt road. It could be an animal, but with the luck I’ve had today, I doubt I’d be that lucky. Quickly, I pull up the cameras that line the long path to the cottage and see a shiny black car slowly making its way down the road. No one knows where this road is unless they’ve been here. It’s pretty much hidden behind trees until you look close enough.
“Fuck,” I mutter, quickly checking the beach camera that Jo doesn’t know I put there. She’s still down there, which is good. One less person for me to worry about. I groan as I stand. My head is pounding, and my stomach isn’t great from all the alcohol last night and the lack of food so far today. Not for the first time, I feel a bone-deep exhaustion that no amount of sleep will cure.
I throw my jacket on and grab the gun that’s hidden under the decorative table by the front door and head out to hide until the car rolls in. I have to stand behind a tree and wait since I can’t just watch the car’s progress on my phone. It takes about five minutes until I see the car and then another two before it’s pulling in front of the house.
Crouching down, I slowly and silently make my way to the driver’s side of the car. I watch as long legs clad in dark denim unfold from the small vehicle before I make my move.
Pressing my gun to the back of this fucker’s head, I click off the safety.
thirty-five
MAVERICK
My heart is pounding its way out of my chest one anxious beat at a time. The house that appears when the thick trees clear is something out of a New England tourism catalog. The directions I got from Ezra’s dad were too specific for this to not be the place. I step out of my car, eager to make sure they’re both okay.
“Hands in the air. Don’t move.”
My body freezes, the press of what I assume to be a gun against the base of my skull forces a shocked breath into my lungs. I raise my hands slowly, not wanting to spook this guy into splattering my brain all over this obscenely nice car Anderson gave me. Did Gavin set me up? I know he blames me for everything, but I didn’t think he would go this far.
“This is private property. I suggest you get back in your car and leave.”
My shoulders sag the moment my brain recognizes his voice.
“It was a long drive, Ezra. Think I could use the bathroom first?” I ask, trying to force some humor into my shaky voice. The pressure of the gun to my head immediately drops away. Strong hands grab my shoulders, and I’m spun around to face haunting blue eyes.
“I could’ve fucking killed you, Maverick!” Ezra yells, eyes wide. He pulls me into him, squeezing me so tight I can barely breathe. This is the most physical contact we’ve had since he hugged me in Declan’s hospital room. He pushes me away from him, hands still firmly holding my arms. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming? How did you find us?”
“Your dad explained how to get here. He said he was going to send you a message.”
Ezra sighs and drops his head back between his shoulders. I take the distraction as an opportunity to back up out of his hold. His touch is too much. I both crave it and hate it equally, and I’m too tired from the trip up here to figure that out right now. Ezra looks at me, hurt quickly flashing across his face before he masks it.
“Your girl had a problem with how I was handling everything and threw my phone over the cliff,” he explains, gesturing to the cliff behind the house with his chin.
“Where is Jo?” I ask, looking around like she was just hiding somewhere. I’ve missed her. Her constant presence in my life being suddenly cut off like a diseased limb has been painful. She’s my best friend, and I’ve hated every minute we’ve been apart.
Ezra looks at me. Whatever emotion is on his face, I can’t decipher. He nods, almost looking resigned, before pointing to the cliff. My breath stops in my lungs and every ounce of blood in my body shoots to my feet.
“What do you mean?” I ask him, my voice barely a whisper.
Ezra laughs, but there’s no humor in it. “Is that what you think of me now, sweetheart? You think I pushed your pretty little girlfriend off a cliff?” His voice is cruel, no hint of the kindness I remember lingering in it.
“I don’t know, Ezra. Did you? I know nothing about you anymore.”
He nods, biting his bottom lip and smirking. “You want to get to know me again?”
“Where is Jo?” I ask the stranger wearing my ex-boyfriend’s face.
Ezra just stares at me, his eyes so cold they could give me frostbite.
“Where is she, Ezra?” I demand.
“There are stairs built into the cliff that will take you down to the beach. That’s where Jo is.” He brushes past me, bumping my shoulder roughly as he passes. I watch him turn to face me once he gets to the door of the house. “And fuck you for thinking that of me.” The door slams, and I just stare stupidly at it, like maybe it’ll open back up to reveal the Ezra I remember.
When it stays closed, I make my way to the cliff carefully. The house hid the top of the stairs. Now is a terrible time to remember that I hate heights. I grab the metal railing. It felt sturdy under my palm, so I took a deep breath and looked down. There on the beach was a small blonde blob that could only be Jo, sitting and watching the tide come in. Taking a steadying breath, I make my way slowly down the stairs.