IGNITE

CHAPTER TEN

CAIN

As soon as I close myself in my bedroom, I have to brace my weight against the door.

God, please tell me why you sent this guy into my life. I haven’t been perfect; I get that. Murder is a sin. But I thought maybe I was doing the work that needed to be done.

Why did he have to kiss me? Ezra was just a cocky little thief, not someone I could ever care about. Now I’m feeling uneasy about the thought of releasing him back into the world when all is said and done with Gabriel.

How did I go from wanting to throw him out a window to wanting to provide for him in the span of a day?

Ezra puts on a strong face. He pretends like he’s not scared, but that destructive energy vibrating under his surface concerns me.

I keep circling back to the lack of information about him, trying to come to a different conclusion. If he is some sort of deep operative spy who’s flying under our radar, I suppose we’ll find out soon. All I can do at this point is keep him under watch.

And with the way he tore through the office and my apartment? I need to keep him busy before he burns the entire building to ashes.

Withdrawing my phone, I shoot a text to Rev, knowing my chances of getting a response are slim when I sent him and his team out to infiltrate another one of Gabriel’s operations at some shipyard.

You working or slacking?

Rev’s surprisingly fast to respond with a selfie in tactical gear, posted up on a roof. I make out silhouettes of his team behind him.

How did the chat with Ezra go today?

A little depressing, to be honest.

I clutch my phone tighter, dropping onto my bed in the dark. Rev rarely shows compassion for others. He’s skilled at hiding the fact that he doesn’t give a shit about much of anything.

I take the bait anyway. Why is that?

My blood pressure ticks higher. I’m not usually this stressed or wound up. Irritable almost always, but that’s just how I’m wired.

Barely educated. No experience with weapons. He’s definitely been through enough shit to see things from our unique perspective.

I grit my teeth and let my phone fall onto my chest. This suffering that seems to cloud over humanity fucking digs at me. Why is it necessary? Why do people treat others so horribly? It makes me wonder if evil is an infection that can be spread.

My phone buzzes again.

Surprised you’re not complaining about him. You’d kick my ass if I touched your clothes or destroyed your kitchen.

I stare at the message for a while. My brain replays the vision of Ezra in my t-shirt and sweats, covered in soap and looking too damn cute. I close my eyes, imagining his hand gripping me by the shirt again, his mouth pressed against mine in a kiss that had alarm bells blaring in my head as all systems went into failure.

My cock strains against my sweats. Groaning, I set my phone on the nightstand and shove the waistband of my pants below my heavy balls. I fist my cock and give it a few tight pumps from root to tip.

I try not to think about Ezra, but it’s impossible when he’s burrowed his way so deep into my brain I don’t think I’ll ever erase his presence there.

Accepting that this is going to be a disappointing orgasm, I don’t even bother with lube. I spit into my palm and jack myself in quick motions until I’m spurting thick ropes of cum onto my tensed abs.

I lie in bed until my breathing returns to normal. Then I wipe myself clean in the bathroom and storm into the kitchen to grab a bottle of water from the fridge.

At least, that’s what I tell myself I’m doing. I can’t help a detour down the hall. The door to the other bedroom in my apartment is cracked, but the light is off and it’s dead silent.

I hover there for a few moments, beginning to feel like a creep in my own damn house. But I have a right to make sure he’s not fucking anything else up. If he didn’t want me to check in, he would have locked the door.

I push the door open wider. My eyes sweep from the empty bed to the floor where Ezra’s curled up with the throw blanket from the back of my couch, the one meant for decoration, not keeping a body warm.

I sigh, dragging a hand through my hair. I give the guy a perfectly good bed, and he chooses to sleep on the floor. He’s going to wake up with cramped muscles.

Carefully, I scoop him up in my arms. His hand grips my t-shirt, right over my sternum, but he doesn’t seem to wake up. I pause to assess that flutter of something in my chest as I stare down at him.

He looks so… soft. So precious.

How did I not notice the first time I saw him? Maybe because my callous nature automatically categorizes everyone as a criminal to start. Hard not to when I’ve witnessed so many horrors in this world.

Add in the fact that I’m nearing my limit with Gabriel’s ability to avoid our bullets.

I draw back the blankets and tuck Ezra in. Hovering longer than acceptable, I’m unable to stop my thumb from tracing the line I carved into his otherwise unmarked face. A scar that will always remain.

I did that.

And I regret it. I know better than to strike first without good reason. The Special Forces trained me to assess situations first. My lack of control is just further proof that I’m out of practice, more businessman than soldier now.

One thing is for certain. I’m no good for someone like Ezra.

Assured he’s still asleep, I sneak out of the room and prepare for a restless night in my own bed.