Page 97 of The Dirty Saint

Roy peeks his head out, notably confused at my presence.

“Hi,” he says reluctantly. “And yes. It is.”

I notice his guard is up, and for good reason.

Lord knows how much this man was told.

“Well, my name is Ezra Maya,” I fill in. “And I was,” I inhale a breath, “I was held in captivity with your wife.”

Roy turns to look at me, and it is then that I can see the sadness and the brokenness in his eyes. Hell, he’s just a child himself.

“So you saw her?” He winces. “You saw her die?”

I nod.

“Yes.”

A tear runs down his cheek.

“Was it quick?”

I pull at my thumb, waiting to hear it crack.

I don’t want to lie to the guy, and I didn’t come here to sugarcoat the truth. That would make me a monster, lying to a widow.

“It was,” I say as I suck on my bottom lip. “But she had been in a lot of pain before she was killed.”

Roy’s head falls to his hands as he starts to sob. I close our distance even more, rubbing his back softly and gently.

I feel like I’m hurting someone that I should be protecting. Here I am, spilling details about a horrible series of events, which I hate myself for. I hate that I am causing this man even more pain, because I know how he’s feeling. He’s lost, and he’s scared. He’s overwhelmed and probably feels like he’s in way over his head. He’s grieving, and on top of that, he has a son who is doing the same.

“But she was a fighter,” I say. “Lana Pipperty was one of the strongest women I have ever known.”

Roy nods, licking away a tear that falls on his lip.

“I don’t know how to do this,” he cries. “Lana was everything. She was built to be a mother. She knew exactly what Joshua needed at all times, and she was so good to him. What if I’m not enough for my son?”

I shake my head. “You are that boy’shero. Helovesyou.

“Look, it’s okay to be scared. Anyone in your position would be. But you candothis. It’s not going to be perfect, and some days are going to kick your ass, butnoneof that can take away the fact that your son is lucky to have you.”

Roy subtly glances behind his shoulder, making sure that Joshua can’t hear him.

“Was she raped?” He whispers. “Was Lana raped?”

I close my eyes for a brief moment, trying to buy myself some time.

“Roy—”

“Ezra, I need to know. For God’s sake, she was mywife.Mypartner. I have arightto know.”

“Then, yes,” I say, holding back tears. “She was. Multiple times a day, sometimes by multiple people at once.

“But still,” I collect myself. “She fought.Hard. And she talked about you and Joshua all the time. You were the only things that kept her going.”

That seems to make Roy smile.

“Lana and I met when we were five years old. Even then, I knew I wanted to marry her.”

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