Page 49 of The Dirty Saint

During

JOEY

The first woman I ever loved was a woman named Zin.

She was in my class at school, and I found her to be the most captivating person on the planet. She had jet-black hair that went past her shoulders, and she always wore dangly pink butterfly earrings.

It was no secret that I was infatuated with her.

But she didn’t feel the same way about me, and when I found her and Killian Morago making out in the library, it broke my heart.

After that, I swore off deep, meaningful relationships. Forever. No girlfriends. Or wives. Just casual fucks that satisfied me at night and left me in the morning.

I know that I have zero business thinking about Ezra, not after everything that I have done.

I tilt my head back as I down the tequila shot at the bar.

“Wow, Joey, take it easy, man. I don’t feel like hauling your drunk ass out of here.”

I roll my eyes.

“Just pass me another one.”

“Hey, are you sure that’s a good idea—”

“Pass me another one,” I snap. “Now.”

Rico lifts his hands up in surrender.

“If you puke, I’m not cleaning it up.”

“Yeah, well, I have places to be after this,” I say. “So the only thing you’ll be cleaning up is someone’s jizz off the bathroom walls.”

I leave without saying another word.

* * *

I find Ezra lying in her cell with a pair of panties lying near her feet. Her eyes are closed, and her head is propped up against the small pillow in the corner.

Damn, she looks so beautiful.

I sit down next to her, stroking her cheek with my fingers. I watch as her chest heaves up and down, her eyelids fluttering.

I never noticed just how long her lashes are.

“Shush, Ezra, go back to sleep,” I whisper.

Immediately, she jolts back.

“What the fuck,” she barks, “Are you doing?”

I prop myself on my elbow, my brown hair falling over my blue eyes.

“Ezra, put the rock down,” I insist, wrapping my hand around it, trying to move it away from my head.

“Then explain why you were stroking me in my sleep?”

I smile.

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