Page 82 of The Dirty Saint

“Prettier than you,” Ezra scowls. “Which isn’t hard because you have a face that could make even the grim fucking reaper cry.”

She sneers. “You are a fucking coward who has to bring in someone else to get me to talk, because you aren’t capable of doing it yourself.”

A cold-hearted slap rings through my ears and I watch Ezra place her hand on her cheek, a red mark already starting to form.

“Case in point,” she drawls.

“Ezra.” I seethe.

“God, look at you, standing there with your damn McDonald’s. I hope your food was poisoned. In fact, I hope it’s the type of poison that takes hours to work so that I can laugh and applaud as you die. What a gift that would be.”

Michael snarls and grabs Lana by the throat, who lets out a high-pitched squeal. “Is this what you want?”

“Let her go, Michael,” I urge. “She’s just a kid.”

“So? My son was just a kid when Ezra,” he points to her, “Murdered him in cold blood.”

Ezra rolls her eyes.

“There’s no goddamn proof.”

“Oh, there will be,” he barks.

“Well, you’ve had me for a long time now, and you’re still coming up short.” Ezra makes an L with her pointer and thumb and rests it on her forehead. “Fucking loser.”

She laughs.

“Oh, you think this is funny, Ezra?” Michael inquires.

“By the way, you’ve got some spit on your upper lip. Might wanna wipe it off.”

Michael shakes his head. “You filthy bitch—”

“Do you kiss Nancy with that mouth?”

“I swear to God—”

“God doesn’t like swearing—”

Mid-sentence, Michael sends a nasty right hook to the side of Ezra’s jaw. Her head rears at the contact.

Lana looks frightened.

“Look, Michael,” Ezra cuts in. “Come at me all you want, but I’m not the one who kidnaps people and chains them to a basement.”

“No, you’re just a killer.”

Mistrust now glistens on Lana’s skin.

With a snap of his fingers, like a summoner, Michael calls for Dom to join us. He points to Lana, who is visibly shaking. Dom smiles, and it ignites a panic inside of me that is burning me from the inside out. I feel like I’m on fire.

“I brought you a gift,” Michael Santo says. A shit-eating grin makes its way to Dom’s face.

What I wouldn’t do to smack it right off of him and shove it up his ass.

“You’re a sexy little thing.” His eyes fall on her round tits and her flat stomach. I can see the wheels turning in his brain, and I want to crush it in my fucking fist. “You can’t be older than 21.”

“Don’t you dare touch her,” Ezra and I shout, almost in unison.

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