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I swing my front door open with a snarl, more than ready to give the idiot the dressing down of a lifetime, but the masculine and calming energy that hits me makes me pause.
“Ezra?” Shaking off the shock at his presence, I quickly pull back on the strings holding my angry bravado. “What do you want? Do you have any idea what time it is?”
“No. Do you?”
“Umm…no?” It comes out sounding more like a question, his totally unbothered ass completely throwing me off kilter.
“Here.” A small solid object is pressed into my hand and I fumble for a second before realizing it’s a cellphone.
“Uhh?”
“Put it to your ear, Wicked.”
“Right. I knew that.” Hesitantly, I place the phone to my ear. “Hello?”
“Wicked! Where the fuck have you been? I’ve been calling you for ages!”
“Jeez, Fruitloop, I’ve been asleep. I must have had my phone on silent. What time is it?” Did I sleep past my alarm? No, Gizmo and Snitch would have woken me up for breakfast in a frenzy if so.
“Four thirty-five. We need you down here. Now.”
“Wait. What’s going on?” I register the tone in his voice. Part frantic, part angry, and part…fear. “Are you okay? Is it Sarah?”
I mean, as much as I know the bitch isn’t good enough for Alan, he loves her and it would destroy him if something happened to her.
“No, no, no. Nothing like that. Just…ride with Ezra and get over here.” With that, he hangs up and I take a moment to contemplate why the fuck Balls-of-Brass Alan Richards would be scared, if not for his wife.
“Looks like I’m hitching a ride on your disco stick.” I hold my hand out with the phone for him, ignoring the shiver that snakes up my spine when his extremely large fingers brush against mine.
Damn, those hands could do quite the number for a lady. Like…wow.
“What?” His aura doesn’t even flicker for a moment, all calm resolve and calculation. Bastard. I swear I’ll shock him into emotion eventually. Even if it’s the last thing I do.
“Chief wants you to take me to him. Are you ready?” I whistle softly to Gizmo and Snitch and start to step outside when Ezra speaks again.
“Wicked.”
“Yes, Brick?” I still get nothing.
“You’re in your underwear.”
“Ah, right. Uh…let me…I’ll be right back.” I slam the door shut in his face, my cheeks flaming as I realize that yes, I am very much in a vulnerable state of undress. Shaking it off–he did come knocking at my door in the wee hours of the morning after all–I quickly locate jeans, a shirt and my go-to leather jacket before sliding my feet into a pair of leather ankle boots. Good thing I’m, at the very least, deliberate where I place things like that when I get home.
I’d never find fucking anything if I fell into my natural state of laziness.
“Gizmo, Snitch, you boys ready?” Their answering squeaks soothe my unsettled state of mind, my love for them the only thing in the world that can. Making sure to grab my cane and a pair of sunglasses, they scurry around my feet and push against my legs to make sure I’m walking straight.
“Alright, let’s go!” I quickly move through the doorway and off my front porch, hesitating once I reach the sidewalk when I realize I have no idea where Ezra’s car is. “Where are we going?”
The large, completely unreadable man gently grasps my elbow and steers me down the street a ways. Now, normally, I would shake off whoever had the audacity to treat me like an invalid with a snarky insult, but his large hand almost seems to wrap around my arm twice and feels oddly…safe instead. That, and because he in no way pulses with pity as he does it, allows me to not feel insulted or angry like I usually would.
“My hero!” I put a southern twang in my words, pinching my voice to be a few decibels higher.
“Hmph.” He doesn’t even reply with a word. At least, I don’t think it was one. I pout. The man is seriously a brick wall. Not, like, stupid, just…ugh.
“No fun at all,” I mutter as the click of a vehicle unlocking sounds in front of me. The door opens with another click and Ezra guides me forward.
The sound of Gizmo and Snitches paws padding across the concrete floor, bely the fact that they went on ahead and climbed in before me. Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if they had matching animalistic grins on their faces as they bagsied shotgun either. Not that I could see their grins to really enjoy the moment, but still.
