Page 8 of The Dirty Saint

“You should be inprisonfor what you did to my boy,” he spits. “You and I should fucking swap places.”

“You havenothing,” I remind him. “Except for a drugged-up confession made in a paid hitman’s basement.”

Michael shakes his head, disgust written all across his face.

“And if I remember correctly,” I inch my face closer so he can feel every word that escapes my lips, “Your boy Killian had his cock inside of me when the NCIS Agents busted down the door, which I very much remember not giving him the consent to. Similar to your son.” I drag out the last word.

If Michael Santo wants to continue to make me out to be the monster, then so be it. Whatever helps him sleep at night.

But I won’t let his son be the victim.

Michael rests his back on the chair. “It’s such a shame the way you turned out, Ezra.”

“Thanks.”

“It all makes sense now why your parents never loved you the way they did your siblings.” The prick smirks. “I guess they saw the things everyone else was too blind to.”

I nod. “You think you’re telling me something I don’t already know,” I laugh. “Your words meanshitto me. Because you can’t hurt me anymore. But hey, take your best damn shot.”

I cross my arms over my chest, smiling.

“Now tell me why you wanted to see me so I can get the hell out of here.”

“I want to meet my grandson,” Michael says deadpan. “I want to meet Noah.”

I feel my smile start to leave my face, fast. A wave of over protectiveness shoots through me, and I have to stand to release some of it.

“Guards?” I holler.

“Ezra—”

“I want out,” I bang on the door. “Let me out.”

“Ezra,please,” Michael begs.

My heart is beating. The walls are closing in on me and I can’t breathe. I can’t breathe.

I can’t breathe. I can’t breathe. I can’tbreathe.

“Ezra, I have a right to know him—”

I grip Michael Santo by his shirt collar, my voice as firm and unbreakable as steel. “The only right you have is rotting to death in this fucking cell. Get him out of here.” I wave to the guards.

They do as requested, and I make sure to thank them.

Then I get the fuck out of there.

During

JOEY

I stand behind the door, watching Ezra as she sleeps in the corner. Her chest is rising and falling, and her eyelashes are fluttering. She’s covered in dust and dirt, but that only brings out her features, not hides them.

I push certain thoughts away.

“You gonna say something or just keep staring at me as if I’m your next meal?”

My lips form a tight smirk, and I push off the wall with my foot.

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