Chapter 70

Ezra’s POV

The ride home was a blur of city lights and nausea.

I could barely keep my eyes open, and when I did, all I saw were flashes of headlights cutting through the night and the blurry vision of Alex’s men sitting stiffly in the front seats.

One of them kept glancing at me through the rearview mirror like I was some ticking bomb that might go off, maybe I was.

I didn’t say a word though—I didn’t have the strength.

My head leaned against the cold glass of the window, and every thud of my heart echoed like a drum in my skull.

The whiskey burnt through my veins, numbing me yet somehow magnifying everything I wanted to forget.

And then her face slipped into my mind.

Ava.

Like she always did.

It was almost cruel, the way my drunk brain latched onto her.

The way her smile could light up the darkest room, the way her voice lingered like a song long after she stopped speaking.

Even drunk, even broken, even