Grind (Wrong Side of the Tracks #4) Read Online K.A. Merikan

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Bad Boy, Contemporary, Crime, Dark, M-M Romance Tags Authors: Series: Wrong Side of the Tracks Series by K.A. Merikan
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Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 127213 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 636(@200wpm)___ 509(@250wpm)___ 424(@300wpm)
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Frank said the L-world, and Ezra didn’t feel like running for the hills.

When he’d first started escorting, a so-called friend had warned him to squash any feelings he might develop in the bud. Ezra had managed to do that until the truth about Paul had come out. He had been ready to leave Frank behind for a lucrative opportunity only three weeks ago. But right now, after less than a month of living with this man without clear boundaries in place, the thought of never seeing him again was like a spike driving ever deeper into Ezra’s chest.

He’d never felt like this before, and it was fucking terrifying.

Pacing around the sofa, like an animal in a cage way too small for its size, he took deep breaths in an attempt to clear his head from doubts that arose whenever he allowed himself to feel elated over Frank’s confession.

His father also claimed to have loved Mom once, but they’d resented one another since Ezra could remember. If he allowed himself to trust Frank the way Mom had trusted her husband, he might end up with nothing once the honeymoon period was over, the money he’d been saving over the years consumed by life and whatever business venture he might attempt.

Could he afford that risk for one man, regardless of how right his touch felt?

Ezra’s gaze swept over the duffel bags Frank had fetched at his request, reassured by their sight. Frank wasn’t just about words and showering him with gifts. He belonged to a rare breed of clients who hadn’t attempted to test Ezra’s boundaries even once and seemed to care about who he was on the inside.

Mom had once told him she stopped being desirable enough for Father around the age of thirty, but the signs of discontent in his parents’ marriage had been obvious even in Ezra’s early childhood. Like that time Dad refused to take her on a trip with friends because she’d gotten a haircut he didn’t approve of, and he didn’t want to be seen with her. Or that time she’d purposefully embarrassed him in front of someone from work, to get back at him for some past offense. There were bruises and withheld money. Shouting and the constant threat of their anger turning against him.

But surely, not all relationships were like this. Unlike Dad, Frank had genuine friends, who clearly trusted him a great deal. It couldn’t have come from nowhere.

Ezra plopped to the couch with a deflated sigh and grabbed the journal filled with notes on the men he’d been seeing for work. Like a good service provider, he needed to remember details about them to make sure they always had a good time, but Frank had still crawled under his skin early on. He’d never been just another customer.

Ezra enjoyed every moment in his company, even small ones like watching TV together, or chats about nothing. Maybe he was boring, but the calm energy Frank exuded was soothing to his soul. Thinking about him made Ezra’s chest burn like a bonfire. For once, he let the flames develop rather than trying to contain them, and the glow they produced exposed the dark thoughts that accompanied Ezra all his life for what they were—chains keeping him back from something he’d been starving for.

The distant roar of a car engine made him rise and approach the front window. He wasn’t yet ready to name his feelings for Frank, but Ezra wanted to let him know they were there before he lost his courage.

Seeing three sets of headlights rather than one dampened his enthusiasm, but then he realized they weren’t coming from the right direction and stalled with a weight slowly dropping in his stomach, because something was off about this.

There was a prepaid phone Frank left with him for emergencies, and while cell coverage was sometimes patchy around here, texts usually went through. If someone was to arrive at the house, Frank would have let Ezra know. It wouldn’t be Shane nor Dex, since they were away with Frank, and none of the other inhabitants of the scrapyard would have arrived in a cavalcade of three vehicles.

The weight in Ezra’s stomach turned cold when he stepped away from the window and saw the duffel bags Frank had retrieved from his old apartment a few hours back.

It could be a coincidence, but what if it was not? Ezra had been sleeping with Paul for three years and missed the fact of him being a killer, so why wouldn’t he have someone watching Ezra’s place?

It wasn’t impossible.

In fact, despite the strong sense that he was overreacting, Ezra needed to be out of the house, or he’d asphyxiate due to lung paralysis.

He turned on his heel and ran toward the smaller bedroom, grabbing the cell phone off the table on the way. Slamming the door behind him, he climbed onto the bed and went straight for the open window.


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