Two Worlds Crossed

Chapter 58

RACHEL

Ezra comes by me, sits down with placing his hands over mine that is constantly shaking, "Sorry that I'm shaking so much. I'm nervous," my voice starts to shake; he gets up and goes to the kitchen and grabs a water bottle.

"Thank you," I take a sip, throw it behind me, "Something happened when I was in Utah," I whisper with still trying to straighten my thoughts in my mind, and his eyes widen up; I feel a hard squeeze on my hands, "Did Henry do something to you?" he catches off guard already, and I sign, "No I mean he was with me but not at with me like you are with me so would you let me explain?" I questioned, and he tightened his hands more, then let's go.

...

As look through Ezra's green, vivid eyes, and squeeze his sweaty hands to notice he's nervous, which maybe he's more afraid to lose me as much I am to lose him.

"Do you remember when my ex-boyfriend Wyatt come to school?" I wonder as having as suddenly having bad taste in my mouth when saying his name, and it feels like someone is throwing a bucket of acid down my throat, and he nods, "Yeah, I remember from wanting to fucking kill him," he jokes, "But what about him?".

I stay silent for a second, touching the back of my neck of feeling like Wyatt's marks are still there even though they are healed, but I'm not, "I wasn't truthful about why he was there. He was there because he almost choked me to death, and I never told anyone that," I whisper as wiping the falling tears in my cheeks. He pulls me into his chest and wraps comfortable arms around me, "Raya? Why did you wait for me?" he questions. I lift my head and see worry through his eyes, "How many times has he hurt you? I need to know so I can find the son of a bitch," he demands, running towards the door before getting a word out.

"What are you doing?" I rush towards him as he opens the door with his keys, "I'm going to find this motherfucker and kill him," he shouts. Still, I pull him back inside, "You are not going to find him because I don't need anyone else to leave me, and the reason why I didn't wanna tell you because we barely know each other and I was afraid," I confused as almost chocking at my own words.

The thought of him leaving me is another word of terrible for me. I need him to stay, and then I jump back to reality. Hence, his phone starts repeatedly ringing, "I have to take this," he waves his cellphone, "Wanna start dinner? I was thinking pasta, does that sound good?" he asks, comes closer and kisses my lips with the taste of mint lingering his breath, "I'm going to start dinner. Don't be on the phone for too long," I tell him, he nods okay and goes in the hallway.

...

Minutes later, I continue cooking dinner and put a bunch of cheesy garlic bread in the oven; when Ezra returns, he throws his phone onto the couch without looking at me. I look over the bedroom, slam the door that I jump; whoever he was talking to must've made him, and it's probably the most of maddest I have seen of him from neck vein almost popping out from a distance.

I see his phone light up, I'm deciding to see what's up, but I don't know if I should. It keeps ringing, and an unknown number sends three texts; in a quick second, I quickly snatch the phone, open it and immediately go to the phone log to wonder who was he calling, then noticing he cleared out everything. But why would he do that?