Page 63 of The Dirty Saint

“It hurts like a bitch—you’ve got some strength in that sexy little body. But it’s healing. You don’t need to worry about it.”

“I’m sorry,” she says.

“Don’t be. It was my fault. My judgment was clouded, and I didn’t act appropriately.”

“Still.”

Ezra withdraws her cheek from my chest, sitting up. I prop myself on an elbow so I can get a better look at her.

“When I was seventeen years old, a man I cared for very much took advantage of me. We had been secretly dating for a few months, and then we decided to take the next step.

“Living with that pain and betrayal nearly killed me. And maybe, to some, you just get over it. You move on. But I didn’t get to. Not when he’s the father of your child, anyway.”

I nod, unable to direct my attention anywhere but her.

“I was newly pregnant with Noah when I was kicked out of the house. And because I couldn’t afford to spend my nights sleeping in hotels and I wasn’t making enough from my job at a fast food restaurant, I did the only thing I thought I could do.”

“You were a prostitute,” I say, remembering that discovery I had while doing my research on her.

She swallows. “I was. But I had no other choice. I was a young, lonely, expectant mother. And I wasn’t going to bring my child into a world that wasn’t stable.”

“Did any of them,” God, I can barely breathe just thinking about it, “Did they hurt you?”

“They did nothing to me that hadn’t already been done before.”

I pull Ezra into my arms, cradling her body as tightly as I can. I need her to know that despite all that has happened in the past, she is safe with me.

And I will never ever let anyone hurt her again.

15

Chapter Fifteen

After

EZRA

“How are doing, Ezra,” Nadia Odeh asks while she finishes making dinner.

“I’m okay,” I answer. “Just trying to get through the day one step at a time.”

Nadia nods, her eyes unable to look up at me.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers. “For everything. I should have known what my son had gotten himself involved in.” She wipes a tear. “I really thought I had raised him better.”

I grab Nadia’s hand and squeeze it lightly.

“Mom, can you— Oh, fuck, sorry. I didn’t realize you two were having a moment.”

I grin as Santi Odeh, Joey’s youngest brother, makes his way into the kitchen.

“You came at the perfect time,” I assure him.

“So then I said, ‘Honey boo bear, there’s no reason to be so sad. We all gain a little weight.’”

“Seriously?”

“What?”

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