Changing Affection

Chapter One

Ezra Pecora drove through the busy city of Seattle. He stared out the front window as he passed cars and tall buildings. He hated the big city and hated that the warehouse where he worked was in the town. The air here wasn't pure. He could be exaggerating, but the air hurt his lungs. He would rather be in the woods of Seattle. The atmosphere there was refined. The air there didn't damage his lungs.

There were too many people in the city. The streets were too crowded for him. The woods were quiet. There were no sirens. No people were yelling at each other. It was perfect and relaxing. He stopped at a red light and watched the people on the sidewalks move around each other, heading to their jobs. 

His job wasn't traditional and wouldn't make his mother proud. He was part of a gang. One of the most feared in the state of Washington – the Strangle Gang. He was second in command and cared for his boss's problems. His boss, Jearon Muli, hadn't seen any action since he became leader. That was something that annoyed Ezra. He was the one being sent off to do whatever Jearon needed to be done. There was more blood on Ezra's hands than he wanted. Ezra thought Jearon was getting soft, but he knew better than to say anything. While Jearon hadn't shot a gun or hurt anyone in years, he could still hurt Ezra. Ezra wasn't ever going to underestimate him. 

He was still young. He had too many bodies piled up in his mind to count. He wasn't thirty yet, only having recently celebrated his twenty-fourth birthday. Although celebrate wasn't the best word he could use for what he did on his birthday. Jearon had sent him out to find, torture, and kill a man threatening Jearon for a couple of months. He was surprised that his hands weren't stained red with the blood of his victims. 

He and Jearon had once been best friends. When Ezra's parents were killed in a house fire, he was taken in by the Strangle Gang. He was only thirteen at the time and lonely. He wandered the streets and hid from the authorities trying to put him in the system. When the Strangle Gang picked him up, he was the youngest in that warehouse. Everyone else was older than him by ten years. He had no one to talk to. No one to do kid stuff with. He almost ran away to live on the streets again until Jearon came. Jearon's parents were abusive and starved him. He had to escape; the warehouse was the only place he could go where he felt safe. Two lonely kids found a close-binding friendship through a gang. How strange is that?

Now, things have changed. Jearon was obsessed with being Washington's most prominent and vital gang. He did everything in his power to bring his crew above the police and government to keep himself – and his goons – out of prison. That meant not thinking twice about killing anyone who got in his way. That included men that they had grown up with. He worked hard to be the wealthiest gang in Washington, as well. He was obsessed with power, making him act utterly different from the boy he grew up with. Ezra didn't even recognize him anymore. 

Ezra sighed as his phone started to ring. He wished he could walk out, but Jearon had threatened that he would kill him if he did. Ezra has seen and done too much for Jearon to feel comfortable letting him out of their gang. He picked up the phone and checked the caller id, rolling his eyes. "Yes, Jearon?" he answered on the phone. He knew that Jearon had wanted him to start calling him boss, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. 

"Are you here yet?" Jearon sounded annoyed. He could hear the busy work of the warehouse on the other side of the phone—men yelling back and forth.

"Almost." He hung up quickly before Jearon could say anything else and threw the phone in the passenger seat. It probably was a bad idea to hang up on him, but Ezra didn't care. It was too early to deal with Jearon's bullshit. 

His promise to Jearon was true. He rolled up to the warehouse in five minutes and stepped out of his car. The warehouse was huge. The old, red brick was chipped from old age. The red of the brick looked darker than it was with the ominous cloudy sky of Seatle. He took one last swig of his coffee before walking up to the large metal door and knocking five times. The door opened slowly, and a pair of nervous, blue eyes stared at him questioningly.