Page 79

It comes out low and somber.The truth, like a gavel.I shiver, but not out of fear. I wish I could reassure him of how hungrily hoard every crumb I learn about him. I want every truth.

“You know I’ve been to prison.”

I nod.

“In human society, that makes it pretty hard to do, well… anything. Find a job. Rent an apartment. Meet people. I’m not exactly proud of where I am in life, either. I work at the club — and don’t get me wrong, I love it, but it’s not really a career, and I’ll probably be working at one bar or another until I’m fifty. Other humans mostly avoid me. I live in a shit-hole.” He takes a deep breath. “I owe a lot of people a hell of a lot of money. That’s the really hard part. The part that weighs me down the most. It’s not like I don’t deserve it — I’m not innocent. But it’s tough to swallow that it all stems from a couple shitty decisions I made as a teenager. It’s hard not to think it’s because there’s something wrong with me. Something innate.”

“I don’t believe that,” I blurt.

He only shakes his head. “When I was sixteen, I met a man. His name was Jasper.”

I can practically taste the history of the name. “Who was he?”

This time Ezra’s laugh is dry and brittle. “He was just a guy, I guess. He was twenty five when I met him, almost a decade older than me, but in hindsight, twenty five is pretty young. We started as, well, friends is generous. Acquaintances, I guess. I met him at a friend’s party. He seemed cool and fun to me, and he knew where all the best parties were. I idolized him.” He rubs his face. “I was a dumb kid.”

He pauses, and I resist the urge to fill the silence.

“By eighteen, he had me on a leash like a puppy. He was the hot older guy who bought me beer and let me hang out with his cool friends. I was starstruck, and it didn’t matter that Fitzie never liked him. I didn’t tell my parents about him. On my eighteenth birthday he got me a fake ID and took me to a club. We danced and drank all night, and he introduced me to coke.” Ezra shakes his head.

“Coke?”

“Cocaine. It’s an illegal drug, a stimulant. Gets you really high —” he gestures above his head. “Then you crash hard and want more. Guys like Jasper bring little bags of coke to clubs and keep the supply flowing, for a price, of course. All he wanted me to do was carry the baggies while he went around and greased the wheels of his business, reeling in customers. I was so stupid — I thought he really liked me. I thought I was special. So I did it without even questioning him.”

My hands tighten on my knees. “He doesn’t sound like a nice person.”

Ezra barks a laugh. “No. It turns out he was a real piece of work. After I graduated high school, I decided not to go to college — he convinced me he was planning to move sideways into marijuana just as it became legal, and I’d join his business legitimately. It would all be above board. I was nineteen when I got arrested with thirty grams of coke in my pocket. More than enough to have me prosecuted as a dealer. Jasper vanished in a puff of smoke — didn’t pick up my calls, didn’t show up to the trial, even though I know his friends told him about it. I never saw him again.”

“But the drugs werehis. How could you be blamed?” I’m surprised at the anger that bubbles up in me.

He shrugs. “Were they? They were in my pocket, and I knew he was selling them. The drugs left my possession when money hit his palm. That put Jasper in the perfect position to get offfree of any charges, and it didn’t take me long to realize that was myactualjob from the start. I was his fall guy. Like I said, I was stupid. I figured it out when he didn’t pick up the phone to bail me out.”

“It doesn’t sound like you were stupid,” I say quietly. “It sounds like you trusted someone who wasn’t worthy of your trust.”

“Depends how you look at it.” Ezra looks down. “Either way, I went to prison.”

I lean forward, wings twitching with frustration. My hand lands on his knee where it sticks out from the robe. “It wasn’t your fault, though!”

“That’s the thing. Jasper was… well, he had a rough life. Kinda like Fitzie. His dad was an asshole, beat the shit out of him until he ran away. Coke was a livelihood for him, a tough one, but he was convinced hewasbuilding a business. My life wasn’t anything like that. My parents are still married, still live in the same house I grew up in. They loved me. Gave me everything. I threw it all away just because I couldn’t be happy with what I had.” He rubs his chest. “I felt like something was missing, and Jasper seemed to tick all the boxes. A few wrong turns and here I am.”

“Hereisn’t so bad, though, is it?” I ask cautiously.

He looks away. His shoulders hunch and his chest caves in, as if he’s trying to make himself smaller. My heart swells with shocking protectiveness, and my skin tingles. His knee is hot under the thin cloth of his pants.

He winces. “Lys —”

I look down. My claws are out.

I yank my hand back. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay.” He captures the offending hand. “You’re right — there’s a lot I’m grateful for. You, for one. But it’s hard, too. I haven’t seen my parents since I got out. I’m too ashamed.”

My heart twists. “That sounds lonely.”

He squeezes my fingers. “It’s not exactly on the same level as losing your entire family to a magic-sucking cult.”

“Maybe not. But everyone’s burden is different.”

“That’s what Fitize tries to tell me,” he sighs.