I gave up driving after 5 minutes and ignored Ezra's smirk. Driving a sports car is not the same as driving a regular car, we almost died after I couldn't shift gears. I also had to resist the urge to smack Ezra for how easy he made it look.
After what should have been 6 hours, but was 5 since Ezra speeds, we were going at a slow speed down a dirt road. Trees lined both sides of the road, with some farmlands nearby.
"What if she's not home? Like, what if she's at the grocery store or something," I ask out loud.
"Then we'll wait for her. Not going back to Portland without an answer."
At the end of the bumpy road, there was one house that came into view.
The house was average-sized, white, and a red car was parked in the driveway. Ezra parked his car directly behind his mom's, probably so that she couldn't leave.
"Ezra - that's not necessary," I scold seeing him putting a gun in his waistline.
"You never know," he said before getting out of the car.
I got out, too, the sun feeling scorching. The dirt crunched beneath our feet as we walked toward the stairs to the house, which had chipped paint falling off of them. The bugs nearby pierced my ears and made me cringe.
They creaked loudly as we stepped up the stairs. Ezra knocked with his knuckle three times against the wooden screen door, before turning and telling me, "Look approachable."
"Huh?" I said in confusion as he moved over to the side, pressing his back against the wall so that he was completely out of view from the doorway.
'Asshole,' I mouth to him. Does he expect me to look like a girl scout or something?
The door opened, revealing a 50-year-old woman. Her dark skin had wrinkles on it, and about a quarter of her hair was now grey. But she looked very put together, wearing jeans and a shirt with her long hair brushed.
She gave me a confused look while moving her eyes up and down, "May I help you?"
"Hey mom," Ezra smirked, stepping into view now.
Her brown eyes widened as she quickly tried to shut the door. Ezra grabbed the door with his hand, making his mom fight to close it. She made grunts while trying to close it, but her strength was no match for Ezra's, and she quickly gave up. Ezra tilted his head at her, "That was rude. Would you change your mind if I said I brought pie?"
"Get out of here, Ezra," she almost spat at him. "You aren't welcome here."
"I'll try not to cry too hard," he replied in a careless tone before pushing the door all the way open so that we could enter.
His mom stepped back while crossing her arms, as we stepped inside.
It was a simple house. One floor, white walls with wooden floors. But what caught my attention was the pictures hung on the walls. There were pictures of her, Ezra's dad, and then a young boy. It didn't take much brain power to realize it was Ignacio.
None of Ezra. None of Eliza.
"What do you want," she asks, unable to keep the anger out of her voice.
"It actually won't take very long. All I need to know is, have you been behind trying to have Lilac killed?" Ezra took a step forward, making his mom take one back.
She rolled her eyes, "Oh, enough of this. Get out of here, I'm not playing this game with you that you like to play up in Portland."
"Been watching me? Kind of creepy," he speaks sarcastically before turning his voice serious. " Now answer the fucking question."
YOU ARE READING
His, Forever ✔️
Romance"You're sorry?" he repeated, his deep and raspy voice reaching my ears from across the room. I nodded. His dark eyes the same shade as the night looked me up and down. "Why don't you get on your knees and show me how sorry you are." All it took was...
