Page 20 of The Dirty Saint

She says it with so much clarity that I almost buy it.

“Ezra—”

“I’m fine,” she repeats.

I shake my head, sitting down next to her. She scooches away from me.

“You don’t have to lie,” I assure her.

Ezra turns to look at me, and I catch a glimpse of the humanness in her eyes.

“What benefit is there for me to lie,” she shakes her head. “Lying isn’t going to keep me alive.”

“Here.” I toss her a chocolate bar, but she lets it fall to the floor.

“I don’t take candy from strange assholes who take me hostage,” she hisses.

“Just eat the damn bar, Ezra.”

Though adamant, the Lieutenant picks up the chocolate and unwraps it. She plops a singular piece on her tongue and then swallows.

“You’re not getting a thank you from me, by the way.”

“Noted.”

“Oh, and you can keep trying to get me to fess up to whatever you think I’ve supposedly done, but I’m not telling you shit.”

I clear my throat.

“I think you forget who has the power here, Ezra.”

“Who chains people up in their basement? Is this some new fetish I’ve never heard of before?”

“What? No,” I say, slightly disgusted. “Where the hell did you even come up with that?”

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

“I’m not ashamed,” I snap.

Ezra makes a face.

“Sure looks like you are.”

I roll my eyes.

She’s like a fucking child.

“Has anyone ever told you you’re annoying? Like to your face?”

Ezra crumples up the chocolate wrapper and places it in her piss bucket, doubling it as a garbage can.

“I bet women are disappointed and bored when they have sex with you. Like, they see you, and they think you’re probablyskilled enough in bed, but then they have one of the worst experiences of their life, and they can’t explain why.”

I close my eyes, hoping that if I click my heels three times, I’ll get transported out of there.

Someone please come and shoot me.

“By the way,” Ezra beams, “I can see your dick sticking up in your pants.”

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