Page 21 of The Alpha's Grave Secrets

“Let me guess,” Kato says unimpressed, “SAC wants to meet with us?”

“Indeed he does.”

“SAC?”

“Special Agent in Charge,” Bruce nods. His low voice rumbling through the room.

“Alright,” Kato says, pushing himself up to his feet and offering me a hand. “The room we’ve got you in has showers. I’ll walk you back there. As I told you earlier, two agents are assigned to watch you. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask them for it.”

We don’t even make it halfway down the hall before I hear a familiar voice calling out for me. Ezra? What the hell is he doing here?

I take off following Ezra’s voice with the other agents beside me.

“Elara!” He says rushing forward when he sees me. His eyes scan me, pausing at the strip of skin on my belly. “Elara, I saw the news. We’ve got to get out of here.”

“What are you talking about Ezra?”

“You can’t trust anyone here. I mean, they got a letter, and suddenly everyone knows about it? Besides, the killer clearly has some vendetta against this Mr. Clean ex-boyfriend of yours. It’s not safe to be around him. We can get a hotel. We can hide out. I will keep you safe.”

“I do not look like Mr. Clean,” Kato says calmly from behind me while I struggle to find the right words to say. “Elara is much safer with us than with you. You’re a liberal arts professor and a little skinny too. How do you intend to protect her?”

I wince at Kato’s harsh words and the hurt that flashes through Ezra’s eyes as he hears them and glances between us.

“You wore that same outfit yesterday,” he says, accusation dripping from his voice as he looks Kato up and down.

“Sometimes, I work through the night,” Kato shrugs. I appreciate him not telling Ezra how we fell asleep on the floor together last night and woke up cuddling.

“Ezra,” I say, finally finding my voice again. “I need to stay with the SPIU. I need to help them solve this case or I don’t know that I’ll ever be able to forgive myself for being the only one to survive this guy. You can stay here too if you want. You’ll be safe here.”

He swallows, hard fists clenched at his side and takes a step forward. Within a split second, Kato lifted me and put me behind him.

Ezra’s eyes widen, “I wasn’t going to hurt her.”

“I wasn’t sure what you were going to do.”

Ezra looks between us, and I can practically see the gears turning in his head, finally he looks me right in the eyes. “You little filthy fucking whore. I see what’s going on here?—”

Before he has a chance to say another word, Bruce has stepped between Ezra and Kato. “Not now, buddy. Not here.” He says, looking at Kato, holding Ezra an arm’s length away with a fistful of his shirt.

“Ezra, I want you to get the fuck out of my house.” I am seething. “Maybe you can go stay with one of your young little graduate students with whom you like to indulge in late-night phone calls and private dinners on that River Boat you used to take me to.”

Ezra’s mouth drops open. His face turning a dark beet-like purple. “That’s right, I know all about your extra-curricular activities. You’re the filthy little whore.” I practically spit at him and Gun lets out a howl of a laugh.

“Fine,” Ezra says looking between us all. “I’ll gladly get out of your pathetic little mismatched house.” He doesn’t say another word as he turns and huffs off.

“Are you okay?” Kato says, turning to me when Ezra’s back is to him. His soulful eyes search mine for signs that I am broken or unhinged.

I let out a deep sigh, “I need a shower and a change of clothes.” I say, heading back toward my temporary home. Callie wraps her arm around my waist, pushing Kato off behind her as she does. I hardly know the woman, but I’m grateful for the gesture.

“We will send an agent to your house to make sure Ezra doesn’t destroy anything while he packs up,” she whispers before leaving me in the dark of my room.

I do shower and change my clothes and crawl into bed to cry myself to sleep. Waking up hours later to the smell of chicken soup and Kato’s musk.

“Elara,” he says quietly. “Would you please eat something?”

Slowly I pull myself out of the twin bunk and approach the door, “is there bread?”

“Sour dough,” he says handing me a white paper bag from a local cafe I’ve always loved.

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