9. Bay
NINE
bay
I’m exhausted and everything within me begs for me to sit down and rest for just a few moments. It kept me on the straight and narrow for a while, shoving back any emotions that my traitorous mind wanted to feed me. It got me to not think about how things between Torin and I wouldn’t work out, despite anything.
Everything he pledged about us being able to overcome being from opposite side of the tracks, rival towns, and an old war that had nothing to do with us, would never break us apart.
I began to adore those pieces of fiction. The colorful pages were filled with hopes, dreams, and small glimpses of the future.
However, the words stopped flowing when the word murder showed up on the page.
Never did I think I’d have to handle that. Not when it came to someone we loved.
I understand why he’s upset, I am.
I’d be right there with him, if not worse.
But, even so, it doesn’t make it hurt any less. He doesn’t trust me, and that alone will kill any chances of a happily ever after.
An already doomed one.
The front door opens then, almost getting me to drop one of the plates I was putting away, when a broken sob takes my next breath away.
I suddenly drop to my knees when Mae and Ellie rush me. Their bodies gracelessly bump into mine, almost sending me to my ass, and I bury my head into Mae’s gut as I squeeze Ellie closer.
It doesn’t feel real.
The smell of—I think syrup—fills my nostrils, and I allow myself to cry for the first time since all this went down. How there is so much I need to explain and get them through.
Us through.
I feel my hair being played with and Mae’s tiny voice says, “Bay, we missed you.”
Those last three words shatter the last of my composure as I grant another few seconds to get more tears out before I pull myself away from one sister to the other.
Mae’s blue eyes stare back at me with a smile, but she frowns when she sees my bloodshot face. “Bay, what’s wrong?”
“I’m…” My cheeks hurt already from trying to hold my grin in place because all I want them to do is be silent so I can rock them in my arms and soak this moment in longer. “I’m so happy to see you, Mae, that’s all.”
Her eyes sparkle with excitement. “I got to swim in a big swimming pool, Bay. Can we get a pool?”
My brows clash together, but I quickly right them. What kind of foster home has a pool? “That’s…awesome. Were they nice to you? Did you eat? Are you hungry? Did you?—”
“Is this…” I steer my focus to Ellie while she nervously fidgets with her fingers. “Our new house?”
“Yeah.” I give her a little shake to get rid of some of her anxiety. “Go see your room, it’s beautiful.” Mae pulls from my grip without having to be asked twice, but Ellie knows something isn’t fully right and stays behind. I can feel a million and one questions coming my way. “What’s wrong?”
She flicks her eyes to her right, and I immediately follow her gaze, finding Ozzy standing there as silent as a mouse. His hands are shoved in a black sweatshirt, and he’s staring at me like he doesn’t know what the hell to do here.
Fuck. I didn’t see or hear him come in.
Yet, he did exactly what he said he was going to do.
But it doesn’t mean he’s off the hook for being related to Pretty Boy Wildes and my sperm donor.
“Everything is good, Ellie,” I mutter, pushing up to my feet and tugging her into my side possessively. “This is…my friend, Ozzy.”
I’m not sure how else to explain him, but it’s the easiest way other than this is my husband .
We have enough shit to get through in the next couple of days.
I don’t need a new man in our lives wreaking havoc any more than what we’re going to be feeling.
“He’s Torin’s cousin?”
I almost snort. “That’s what I’m told.”
“Why aren’t we at home?” She peers up at me out of my peripheral and, fuck me, I hadn’t thought of a solid excuse for that yet.
However, before I can open my mouth to say a word, Ozzy surprisingly blurts out one for me, “Spiders.”
“Ew.” My sister cringes against me, but that’s soon going to be known as a lie because our follow-up conversation is going to be what actually happened.
“Go check out your room,” I order a bit sternly so that she knows I’m needing a minute. “You’ll love it.”
Hesitantly, she pulls from me, eyeing Ozzy in the process before proceeding to her new space.
I should’ve had her stay. Being in the same proximity as Ozzy is almost as infuriating and nerve-racking as the last few days, but I know it’s because of lack of sleep.
He makes me both nervous and uneasy with his super intense stare. I’m self-conscious of every movement, every blink, and every word I say.
“Thanks for bringing them back,” I concede. “I appreciate it.”
Silence.
“Can I get you something to drink?” I jerk my thumb over my shoulder to the kitchen.
He shakes his head, then changes his mind and gives me a curt nod.
Okay…
I move, ambling for the fridge and yanking out a can of Coke, a Coors—which is weird because it’s my favorite—and a juice box.
Placing each one on the island, he and I have another stare-off competition for a few seconds longer while I give him time to choose.
He takes the juice box.
Curiosity makes me break my short-term rule as I glance up at him tearing the plastic straw through the wrapper and stabbing it viciously into the Juicy Juice.
“Good choice.” He says nothing, which I’m slowly getting used to, as I drag the Coke closer to me to crack open. “Do you know how the groceries got in here?”
He nods.
“You?”
Another bob of his head.
“I’ve already gotten two things I needed on my list,” I emit slowly. “Was there something you needed?”
His eyes are the purest shade of blue as they remain locked on me. Dark pools that peek over the box he’s sipping on. They appear kind, but my radar of who and what to trust has been off lately.
Yet, how do I decipher everything he’s done for me as anything less than making me comfortable?
Ozzy shakes his head, and I can’t help but be relieved.
And still confused.
“I don’t want any trouble,” I confess. “I’m staying in South Shore. Whatever Torin has planned…” Ozzy’s eyes narrow in on me. “I know this wasn’t just for shits and giggles. I know you’re here because of him.”
“No.”
I hit him with an exasperated stare. “C’mon, dude. I wasn’t born yesterday.” Crickets. “Then why are you here? Who are you?” He reaches behind him, plucking a black cell phone out of his jeans, and glances down at it, clearly not giving a shit about my question. “I’m talking to you.”
Ozzy gently places his phone down along the counter and gives me his full attention, but nothing more.
It’s quickly starting to drive me insane.
There was no warm-up with this guy, and now he’s in my world, handing me a house and returning my sisters.
I don’t get it.
I can’t gauge his angle. I wouldn’t even know where to begin or how to shield myself from the next blow he’s going to deliver.
“Why—” I stop myself because I don’t want to insult him. This whole non-speaking shit might be because he has a condition. I don’t want to make him uncomfortable. The boy is sitting peacefully in my kitchen, drinking a juice box, for fuck’s sake. He bought me a house, loaded it with groceries, and brought my sisters safely back.
There’s no con yet.
Besides being married to a complete stranger.
“I really am grateful for everything you’ve done,” I profess as softly as I can. “But no offense, a lot has happened. And…you’re new.”
Ozzy slides the Coors bottle in my direction, expressing exactly how he feels about how I’m acting.
I need to chill.
Reaching for his silent gesture, I twist the cap off and take a generous swig of the slightly bitter, earthy flavor. Those dark cobalt orbs stay bolted onto me as though he’s not able to do anything else.
My nerves soften as I take my first draw of gentle air into my lungs. As intense as he is, this man somehow can inaudibly calm my ass down.
And the moment is great.
Until the click of a hammer from a gun clips through the air and sends my focus reeling to Levi.
Oh my God, thank fuck.
Then my eyes bulge from my head, and my hand shoots out to stop him. “ Wait .”
“I wanna know why you’re here.”
It takes me a milli-second to register Levi’s comment, before I ask, “Hold on, you know him?”
Levi levels a primal glower onto the man sipping on a damn juice box in my makeshift house.
I can’t fully take it seriously.
“Yeah. I fought this fuck underneath the college on fight night.” Levi steps closer but doesn’t put down the gun. “Why it is that, everywhere I turn, I see a fucking Wildes?”
“I’m a Ryland,” Ozzy retorts in his raspy octave and…holy shit.
“Still not supposed to be here.”
“Levi, the girls are here. Let’s not?—”
He inches forward some more. “Why are you here ?”
Ozzy goes back to shutting down when I erase the space between me and my best friend, laying a gentle hand on his forearm. “Hey, there’s something you need to know.”
“In a minute, Astor.”
“No, it has to be right now. Before you pop a blood vessel.”
Levi doesn’t bother acknowledging me with a look. “When I’m done imprinting his fucking face into the floor then you can tell me.”
Oh, for the love of God…
Then, I don’t know why, but a random-ass question pops into my head before I blurt, “Who won that fight?”
Levi slowly—very slowly—cranes his neck in my direction, and that answers my question.
This is interesting because he has at least three inches on Ozzy and more body mass. After all, I’m still swearing on the idea that he took steroids as a teen.
“Why does that fucking matter?” he hedges, quirking an eyebrow as if I’m baiting him purposely.
“Because Ozzy…” I steal a look at him, but nothing about him changes to tell me to stop, so I continue. “I’m married to Ozzy, Lev. Not Ramsey.”
My best friend immediately spins to launch himself at my new husband.
Husband. Husband .
Yeah, I’m still not a fan of that word.
Not only is it foreign and leaves a weird aftertaste in my mouth, but I never pictured myself with a guy who doesn’t fucking talk.
At all.
However, said significant other has already slid my beer bottle off the countertop and holds it over the edge, ready to to break and use it as a weapon if need be.
Clever.
As fuck.
I can’t help the ghost of a smile that forms on my face as Levi halts in place. I’m honestly impressed with the fast thinking and that he had the mindset to not break the glass alerting my sisters to come running in here to see what all the commotion is about.
But it doesn’t mean I won’t use them as one.
“Ellie. Mae,” I call out loudly for them. “Levi is back home.”
Squeals of excitement answer as I hear the soft pitter-patter of shoes hitting the hardwood floors and acting like my little saviors.
Ozzy places the bottle back down before the girls get into the kitchen, and Levi is forced to acknowledge them before he can do anything else.
My so-called husband is a damn genius.
And I’m not sure if that’s a good thing for me or not, but right now, I can’t help but be slightly amused.
Giving me a barely noticeable bow of his head, Ozzy steps quietly behind Levi and out the front door while my best friend greets the girls.
He’s definitely not slow.
He may be too damn smart.