Page 43 of A Bloody Merry Christmas
“A new investigation has arisen regarding the three college students who went missing in New Gothenburg. Police have a possible location of the last time the young men were seen. Paul Swanson’s parents are calling for witnesses to their son’s disappearance, claiming that Paul wouldn’t leave the city of his own volition. Tahlia Morganson has the story.”
Another journalist came on the screen and she began broadcasting the scoop in front of a police station. She spoke about the three men—the same ones I’d murdered because they were picking on Ezra—and how their families missed them.
Then, two older folks appeared, wearing wool trench coats that looked more expensive than my house. The woman had layers of jewelry on, from a pearl necklace, rose-gold earrings, and an array of rings on her fingers that I bet were real. Herhusband wasn’t lacking, either, with a thick gold watch and multiple gold chains around his neck.
The woman leaned into the microphones held out to them, dabbing crocodile tears from her cheeks. “If anyone has any information about our poor, sweet Paul, please go to the police. We want our son home. We miss him, and I know his friends’ parents miss their sons, as well. They’re good boys.”
Good? I snorted. Paul was anything but sweet. He’d punched Ezra for being homeless. He was the epitome of a bully, and by the looks of his parents, I could see why. They were great actors.
Bee shot me a look as she turned off the TV. “Overly wealthy white people are the worst kind, Sam.”
“I know,” I signed. And I was ready for whatever they threw at me.
Ezra was worth it.
“We need to rethink this. We can kill him, but not on Christmas. There’s not enough time.” Her eyes turned pleading. “Let’s do this in the New Year. Please?”
I sighed and squeezed the back of my neck, before nodding. Maybe she was right. It was too dangerous to rush this and I didn’t want to get anyone arrested for murder.
The other three made their way into the living room and I held out my arm for Ezra, who cuddled in under my arm. His presence was warm, like a blanket on a cold night, and I savored having him beside me. I’d never felt the need to have someone against me until now. He’d changed the whole dynamic of my life.
Lucy clasped her hands together in front of her chest, gazing at us with wide eyes. “You’re too cute. Let me take a picture.” She yanked out her phone and pointed it at us, and both Ezra and I smiled for the camera. “So adorable. Damn, you two fit together perfectly.”
I pulled out my phone and opened the speaking app, typing into it so Ezra could hear what I wanted to say. “I have your birthday present.”
“You haven’t given it to him yet? What kind of boyfriend are you?” Dalton slid closer to Ezra and wound his arm around his shoulders, eyebrows waggling. “I could be a much better partner than Sam.”
I shoved him away from Ezra, and he laughed. I made a face at him as I signed, “Asshole.”
“Ezra, he called me an asshole. Is this the kind of guy you want to be with?” Dalton opened his eyes wide.
“Definitely,” Ezra answered without missing a beat. His grin widened. “And that sign doesn’t need much explanation.”
I snorted and kissed him on the temple before escaping the room. I thought buying him a birthday present would be difficult, but it wasn’t, especially after the long conversations we’d had—or at least, with Ezra talking about his life. I got a good sense of who he was, and it was a harsh reminder that he was still young.
I grabbed the present from the guest room. The space didn’t have a bed, and the only thing I used it for was storage, which meant Ezra had no reason to go in there and it was the perfect hiding spot. When I came back into the living room, he and Dalton were laughing about something while Bee groaned, leaning back on the couch with Lucy laying her head on Bee’s shoulder. The sight sent a soft sensation through me. It felt good knowing how easily Ezra got along with my family.
“Is that mine?” Ezra’s eyes widened at the large gift in my arms and he took a step toward me before hesitating.
I held out the present, and he surged forward with the kind of excitement that had me laughing. He ripped at the red wrapping paper with joy. The moment his gaze settled on the box underneath, he froze, mouth parting.
“Did you...get me a PlayStation?” His eyes shot up to mine, wide and uncertain, like this was one big prank. My heart ached. His family deserved death.
“Yours,” I mouthed to him, tapping him on the chest.
His bottom lip wobbled and he planted his mouth together as he stared down at the box for a long moment, before he gently rested it on the floor and threw himself at me. He buried his face in my chest, and I wrapped my arms around him.
“Thank you.”
I smiled, ready to tell him he was welcome, but he continued.
“Thank you for listening to me. Like, actually listening. You’re the first one to care.”
I swallowed around a lump that formed in my throat and glanced up at my family. They were all staring with their own version of sadness, and I hugged Ezra tighter. Even though it was painful, I said the word that he needed to hear. “Always.”
11
EZRA
