Page 76 of The Dirty Saint

“Hey, Tono,” I roll my eyes, seething, “I can’t wait to tell your wife all about this. I’m sure she’ll be very happy to know her husband, and the father of her two daughters, likes raping young women.”

Tono releases himself, and Ezra breathes in a sigh of relief. “You won’t be saying shit to my wife.”

“Does she use the home phone more or her cell phone? I want to make sure she picks up.”

Tono snarls, a nasty look in his eyes. After he cleans himself off slightly, he comes over to me, pinching the bridge of my nose and jamming his fist in my mouth so I can’t breathe.

“I wouldn’t threaten me, boss. Not when I have all the power.”

I smirk. “Even if I was dead, you still wouldn’t have all the power, so don’t kid yourself. Michael Santo cares as much about you as a dog does an ant.”

He has no heart. You could blame it on the disappearance of his son, but I don’t think he ever had one to begin with.

His actions prove just that.

“If I were you, Joey,” a voice calls out, “I’d save my energy. The last thing you’d want is to miss anything happening to your girl.”

I turn around to see Michael Santo, the expression on his face as sick as he is.

I don’t even bother to hide my rage.

“Your friend’s daughter is being sexually assaulted, and you’re just standing there?” I bark. “As if this isn’t your fault?”

Michael nods and then makes his way over to Ezra. He crouches down to her level and brushes two fingers against her cheek.

“I promise Noah will be good in hands. I’ll make sure of it.”

Ezra, who has been keeping herself from reality, suddenly snaps back.

“You keep my son’s name out of your fucking mouth!”

Her voice breaks a little on that last word.

“Oh, Ezra,” Michael Santo kisses the top of her forehead. “What happened to you? What unfortunate circumstance made you like this?”

She looks up at him. “Like father like son. Why did you both feel the need to hurt me?”

19

Chapter Nineteen

After

EZRA

“Mom—”

“D-did they t-touch you? Did they r-rape you? Oh, god,” my mother puts her mouth to her palm, her sobs brushing up against it.

Her voice shakes. “How could God have allowed this to happen?”

The same reason he let you abuse me all those years.

I keep that thought to myself.

“I don’t know,” I whisper. “But I wish I did.”

Giselle Maya wipes her nose with her sleeve, a sight I never thought I’d witness.

---