OZZY
The only thing I have to look forward to is the days when we have planning sessions, even if it means working like a dog for the man responsible for every ounce of heartache we’re all feeling.
Today, we’re going over the last two routes, fact-checking what we know, and planning for any hiccups.
These jobs are fairly routine, especially with how quiet things are on the highways at night, but there are always variables that can come into play.
Weigh stations, extra patrols, truckers who give a shit about their hauls.
Most of the time, we don’t run into any issues, but being prepared is a part of the job, and with a boss who’s a stickler for the rules, we can’t afford any mistakes.
Lex leads the morning debrief, reading the three emails from Mr. A. aloud, and laying out the details of each truck and its drop-off point.
“Seems like these are the last two in this area,” Lex finishes, handing out printed maps for each of us.
I scan over mine, knowing the area well enough by now to know where I’m going. In thick black Sharpie, the time and date are labeled at the top, indicating that I’ll be going on my runs tonight, and two nights from now. We rotate, taking different routes on different days, all of this pre-planned by our boss methodically.
“Only one for me?” Oliver asks, waving his paper in the air.
“Looks like you got the luck of the draw, Olly. You can help me track cameras if you’re bored,” Lex jokes, throwing a pencil at him.
“Yeah, I’ll survive,” he replies, hanging his on the cork board on Lex’s wall.
“Anything else?” I ask, moving this meeting along.
“There is something, but it’s preliminary,” he starts, rifling through papers on the table. “I caught this before Boss Man did, but I’m not sure what it means.”
He hands me two pieces of paper, with highlighter marks on a few different lines. This looks like a credit card statement, but we rarely use them, so I’m not sure what the relevance is.
“What am I looking at here, Lex?”
“Someone’s using mine and Oliver’s credit cards in North Carolina,” he says, and everyone’s eyes land on me.
“Fucking Christ. How?” I run my hands through my hair, sitting on the edge of the bed.
If this comes back to bite us, it could fuck up everything we’ve worked to protect.
“Pepper may or may not remember the names on our fakes,” he explains, and Max jumps up, shaking his head.
“Are you kidding me, Lex? How the fuck did that come up during your pillow talks? This isn’t shit you go around telling every girl who lands in your bed!” He yells, and Journey takes him outside to cool down.
Max’s moods are lethal, but as long as he stays sober, we can reel him in when necessary.
“After the fight in Jacksonville, she was scared, and wanted to leave, but I couldn’t let her. I showed her what I do. The tech side of things, and I told her everything we took from the storage unit. I taught her how to use my software because she was interested in finding her birth parents.”
“Okay, that’s not the end of the world. I’m sure she’s not a genius like you. What do we do about the statements?” I ask, choosing not to beat him up over this.
I can see the guilt in his eyes, and he knows what’s at stake just like the rest of us.
“I’ll dispute the charges. It’s just a house rental on Oliver’s and a car on mine. Maybe your truck shit the bed,” he laughs, and I let my mind wander to Fallon.
She hasn’t racked up charges, and I don’t even know if she’s still in North Carolina. She could’ve gone anywhere after we left, and there’s no way for me to know if she’s okay.
“I trust you to handle this, cancel the cards if we have to. We can’t let him think we’re still connected to that place.”
“I’m on it, Oz. I’m sorry to bring this up,” he says, and I pat him on the back, hoping to ease his guilt.
“Do we still have eyes on the dealership?” I ask nonchalantly, but Oliver and Lex both shut me down.
“Absolutely not, Ozzy. We can’t go back there. Seeing them will only make this harder,” Oliver says, and I nod, knowing he’s right.
“I took the feed offline. It didn’t feel right spying on them,” Lex admits, and my eyes flick to his.
“You were watching the cameras?”
“For the first few weeks, yes. There wasn’t a lot of movement, it seemed like the girls just stayed put inside most of the time. They stopped going to yoga,” he whispers, and before I can control my anger, my fist lands on the drywall.
“Fuck!”
I should’ve never asked. Not knowing is better than hearing shit that tugs at your heart. None of us wanted things to go down like this, but Oliver is right, going back to that place won’t make any of this easier.
Journey returns, relaying the news that Max is settled down and taking a break in his room. Through everything, J has stepped up in the Max department, becoming his sidekick and confidant through this shift in dynamics.
“Are we alright here? My two routes are tomorrow and the next night,” Journey says, holding his paper in the air.
“We’re good. I’ll update when I know where we’re going next, but we should start packing up just so we’re not dangling off a deadline this time,” I explain, hoping someone takes my advice.
“Alabama’s been good to us,” Oliver smiles, shaking his head like an evil gremlin.
I roll my eyes, excusing myself from their frat-boy locker room talk, but Oliver pulls me back in before I can escape.
“Come on, Oz. Come out with us, give it another shot.”
“I told you both, I can’t. It’s her or no one, and I’m alright with that. You guys go get your dicks sucked and enjoy every moment of it.” I hit back, knowing they won’t fuck off unless I’m stern.
“It’s not about that, just getting yourself out there is half the battle. Plus, flirting with pretty girls always blows the steam off a long work week,” Lex adds, but I politely decline.
“I’m flattered, guys. Have fun,” I say, closing the door behind me.
During our time in Georgia, Lex, and Oliver decided to get back on the horse, going out to clubs and meeting women, but the macho confidence they exert is all an act.
They’re trying to move forward, but at the mention of Cami and Pepper, their faces lit up, the reminders of their women bringing them true happiness.
Max and Journey usually tag along, not ones to turn down an invite, but I’ve tried to stay out of the mess, knowing it’s not worth my time.
Everywhere I go leads me back to Fallon.
* * *
We’re in a state of limbo, arriving at a new stop on the tour, but no jobs to get started on until Monday. This hotel is just as nasty as the last few, but at least we all get our own rooms this time.
If I had to bunk in a double bedroom with Oliver for one more night I might’ve jumped off a fucking building — for real this time. His snoring, talking in his sleep, and teeth grinding make it impossible for me to sleep, not to mention, the amount of time he spends in the bathroom is fucking ridiculous.
I drop my bags on the king-sized bed, looking around at the unoriginal decor, ready to make this place home for the next month or so.
We’ve bounced around a lot, but this is the first time we’ll be settled into one place for longer. The next few days we’ll take the time to get to know the area, learn the new routes, and familiarize ourselves with the levels of patrol on the highways, but tonight, there’s nothing.
Just a wide window of time to sit alone with my thoughts, and do my best to keep the sadness from completely taking over.
“Ozzy! We’re going out, you’ve got to come with us!” Oliver bangs on my door, but I do my best to ignore him.
After two weeks of sharing a room with him and two days of traveling together in that tiny fucking van, I need my own space.
“Go away, Oliver.”
“No. You’re coming with us. We need a night out!” He yells, and I open the door, gesturing him inside.
“The whole motel doesn’t need to hear your loud ass mouth, Olly.”
“Just come out, for a few hours at least?” He asks, and I pour myself a drink, offering him one.
We clink our plastic cups together and knock back the vodka, letting the liquor burn as it goes down.
“Why would I go out? There’s nothing out there for me,” I tell him, but he’s persistent.
“We’ll have a few drinks, flirt with the girls, maybe dance? Same thing we always used to do, Boss,” he says confidently as if nothing has changed since our wild days in Jacksonville.
“It’s different now, you know that,” I argue, pouring another drink with his watchful eyes on me.
“It doesn’t have to be. Just put her out of your mind for a few hours.”
I laugh at him, like an actual belly laugh, something I haven’t experienced in a while. I wipe my face, almost letting a few tears escape because there’s no way Oliver’s this delusional. He knows better than anyone what I struggle with, especially when it comes to Fallon. She’s all I think about, and he is well aware.
“I’ll pass, thanks though.” I offer him another shot, and he knocks it back, a glint of hope in his eyes.
“You’re not doing something wrong by moving on, Oz. Just think about it, we’re leaving in a few hours,” he says, stealing a cigarette from my open pack and slipping out the door.
Even though I know it’s not wrong to go out, it would never be the same with someone new, and a waste of time trying.
Arguably, I could use a night out, even if it’s just to escape the confines of four hotel walls, the most unforgiving place a vulnerable man can find himself in – I know from experience.
Fuck it, what’s the worst thing that could happen?
My mind is tentatively made up, and I decide to run the shower as hot as it can go, letting the steam fill the bathroom.
Under the water, I steal a glance at the B carved into my chest, right above my heart, and trace it with my finger.
She’s always with me.
Keeping things casual, I choose black jeans and a white T-shirt, not looking to impress a single soul. My facial hair is scruffy and could use a trim, but I haven’t touched it since I left Fallon, and I like it this way. Compliments the lost soul persona I’m giving off, and she always loved it when I let it grow a little longer. I find myself doing little things for her, even if she’s not around to appreciate them.
This is as good as I plan to look, so I take a few swigs from the vodka bottle before wandering to find Oliver and tell him I changed my mind.
Like clockwork, he’s outside my door, a shit-eating grin spread across his face.
“You son of a bitch, look at you! I knew you’d come,” he laughs, draping an arm over my shoulder and passing me his lit cigarette.
“A few hours, max,” I say, and he nods, leading me toward Lex’s room.
“Old habits, tonight?” He asks, and I shrug, letting him take the wheel.
Back in Jacksonville, we’d always pregame the club nights with a few joints and drinks, getting drunk before we’d even get there. Fuck it, if we’re here by ourselves we might as well bring back the old rituals.
“He made it!” Journey cheers, immediately handing me a joint and a beer.
“The gang’s all here,” I smile, taking a few hits before passing the paper off to my left.
Before long, we’re all riding a nice buzz, talking shit about the old days and comparing stories, the mood lighter than it’s been in months.
Lex is even enjoying himself, letting the genie out of its bottle, so to speak. He’s drinking and smoking with us, something that rarely happens.
Max is sober, and offers to be the designated driver. Everything seems normal, and looking at us, you wouldn’t sense the pain we’re all burying under the surface, and what we’ve endured in this lifetime.
“Alright, everyone in the van,” Max barks, already frustrated with whatever argument Oliver and Journey have locked themselves into.
The bickering is back, and although it’s nice to get back to basics, I remember how fucking annoying it is.
“Another beer, Oz?” Oliver asks, handing me the last can in a six-pack.
“Cheers.”
I pop the top, chugging the foamy liquid until it’s gone, and I toss it to the side, smirking at the fact I beat Oliver in his favorite game.
The ride is short, but the club is two towns over, and from the outside, it looks like a hole-in-the-wall kind of place.
The signs in the windows are old and torn, advertising all the liquor they carry.
An old banner hangs, welcoming people into a dance night that happened months ago, barely withstanding the breeze, ready to fall at any second.
The neon sign that dons the club’s name, Lithium , flickers under the moonlight, some of the letters not even bothering to light up anymore. This place is rundown, but when we step inside, the bass is thumping, and the dance floor is littered with bodies.
We all head for the bar, and I start a tab with my credit card, ordering a round for the four of us.
I order a long island, a habit from being with Fallon, who loved how sweet they are. I can’t even spend a night out without thinking about her. All those secret moments we shared in various clubs come flooding back, smacking into me with a force I haven’t felt in a long time, reminding me that these places made her fucking fearless.
Before I can sneak away and refocus my mind, a woman in an all-black leather bodysuit approaches me, her lips painted in a shade of red that intrigues me.
“Are you going to stand there all night, or do you dance?” She whispers in my ear, her hands on both my shoulders.
“Lead the way,” I say, taking her hand and following her to the dance floor.
Her dark hair is cut short, falling just above her shoulders, and her playful smile has my attention as we move to the music.
“I’ve never seen you here before,” she teases, wrapping her arms around my neck the same way Fallon used to.
Fuck.
“Just passing through for work,” I tell her, gently holding her waist.
“Does the mystery man who’s here for work have a name?”
“Elliott, you?” I ask, giving her the name printed on my fake ID.
“Tabby, like a cat,” she smirks, grinding against me.
This all feels so unnatural, being around another woman who isn’t Fallon, but I do my best to go with the flow, dancing with her for a few songs and exchanging small forms of pleasantries.
Her blunt attitude and fearlessness remind me so much of Fallon, taking exactly what she wants with no shame.
“Let me get your next drink?” I ask, leading her back toward the bar.
I need another one, and a break, as her being so close is beginning to suffocate me.
As luck would have it, Oliver’s at the bar, smiling at me like a fucking idiot.
“Well, well, well, Dad. That’s not Mom,” he whispers, and I elbow him in the ribs, ready to knock his teeth out if I weren’t laughing along with him.
“Fuck off, Olly. I’ll make you an orphan.”
“Introduce me to my new step-mommy?” He says loudly, which grabs Tabby’s attention.
“I’m sorry, ignore my idiot friend, Oliver,” I explain, and she reaches over to shake his hand with a smile.
“Vodka on the rocks, please.” She turns her attention to the bartender, batting her eyelashes at him like they’re more than familiar with each other.
It’s none of my business, and when we get our drinks, we snag a spot in the corner with a table.
“Your friend is interesting,” she remarks, and I shake my head.
“He’s missing a few screws up here, sorry about him,” I laugh and suddenly, she climbs into my lap, straddling me on this chair.
This isn’t what I expected, and although I’m not complaining, it’s so different holding someone else in my arms.
She’s taller than Fallon, her eyes meeting mine without trying, and she smells like oranges, a very strange perfume, but I don’t hate it.
“So, Elliott, are you going to kiss me, or do I need to beg?” She whispers, her lips hovering dangerously close to mine.
A million things run through my mind, but as I look at the girl in my lap, I realize how wrong this is.
I can’t do this.
Her hands on me, mine on her body, it’s all just wrong.
“I’m sorry, um, you’re lovely and I’ve had fun but you’re not … you’re not Bambi,” I say, the words spilling out before I can stop them.
“Excuse me?” She asks, her eyebrows knitted into a frown, and her red lips in a straight line.
“I’m sorry, it’s just that, there was a girl, and clearly, I’m not over her,” I say, and her eyes soften.
“She must’ve torn you up real good.”
“The opposite actually, I had to leave her behind … for work, and um, it’s been really hard. We were something special,” I explain, taking a sip of my drink.
She climbs off me, pulling her chair beside mine and resting her head on my shoulder.
“I know what you mean, my ex runs this place,” she says softly, and I’m reminded of her connection with the bartender.
“Sucks to suck.” I hold my glass to hers, and we clink them together, downing them in one shot.
“What’s her name?”
“Fallon. I called her Bambi, though.” I smile, remembering the first time I saw her all those months ago.
“That’s so fucking sweet. Tell me more,” Tabby urges, and we sit for a while, exchanging stories of our exes, and what they meant to us.
Hers left her for another woman but calls now and again for a booty call, and loves to get jealous when she leaves the club with other guys.
“That’s not love, Tabby. There’s someone better out there for you, you’ve got to believe that,” I tell her, and she nods along, seemingly listening to my words and taking them to heart.
“Fallon sounds like the love of your life, especially with the matching tattoos and stabby places,” she laughs, and I can’t help but agree with her.
“She is. One day we’ll get our happily ever after, I have to believe that,” I whisper, closing my eyes and taking a deep breath.
“I believe it. I’ve seen lots of men talk about their woman before, but none of their eyes light up like yours do. You two are gonna be alright, but I want an invite to the wedding,” she laughs, writing her name and number down on the back of a napkin.
“If you ever need anything, Elliott,” she says, tucking it into the front pocket of my jeans.
“Thank you, Tabby. For everything.” I take her hand, leading us back to the bar to close the tab.
Her ex is staring across the room, watching as she looks up at me with a smile, and at that moment, I come up with a devious plan.
“Follow my lead,” I whisper, and she tightens her grip, her cheeks flushing slightly pink.
“All set?” The bartender asks, his eyes going from me to Tabby.
“Sure thing, Boss.”
He prints my receipt, never taking his gaze off her, and I know that possessive look. Hell, I’ve perfected that look, and right now, he’s earned what’s coming to him.
“Can we get the lady a glass of water, too, please?” I ask, a polite smile on my face.
“What are you doing?” Tabby whispers, but I shush her, telling her to wait for it.
I sign the slip, sliding it across the bar top as he hands Tabby the water.
“Here you go, Tabitha,” he says in a husky voice, that possessive tone jumping out.
This is comical, watching as another man tries to lay claim to a woman, except this guy looks like a fucking fool. It only works if the other man is intimidated by you, or feels threatened, and I’m as cool as a fucking cucumber.
“I’ll take that, actually,” I say, grabbing the glass from her hand and throwing the water right into her ex’s face.
“Oh my god!” Tabby laughs, covering her face with her hands.
In a quick motion, I hop over the bar, and push the asshole against the shelves, shaking the glass bottles as he lands.
“Disrespect that girl one more time, and I’ll be back … Alan,” I laugh, pulling the name tag off his shirt and tossing it in his face.
“Oh my god, Elliott. Let’s go, before Barry the asshole bouncer comes around,” she laughs, looping her arm into mine.
“After you, my lady.” I hold the door open for her and walk her to her car parked out front.
“That was the most fun I’ve had in a while, thank you,” she says, unlocking her door and climbing into the driver’s seat.
“You know, me too, Tabby. Get home safe, and don’t come back here. Go find your prince charming,” I tell her, and she nods, waving as she rolls down her windows.
“Not even a kiss goodnight?” Oliver slurs, draping his arm over my shoulder, and putting all his weight on me.
“Nah, man. She’s no Fallon, but she was a good friend for the night,” I say honestly, a small smile on my face.
I may not have seized an opportunity to forget about Fallon, even if only for a few hours, but that’s alright. What I gained from tonight was far greater than a drunk hook-up with a stranger.
There’s nothing that will take away my pain, or make me miss Fallon any less, she’s within me, but I can try to experience life at least a little bit. It’s baby steps, and tonight proves that I’m nowhere near ready to let her go, no matter how far apart we are.
The sadness is still here and still has its hold over me, but maybe it’s something I can live with, rather than fighting against it.
* * *
Being the first one to run a route is tough, but it sets the tone for how the rest of the nights will go. My target is already parked, and the lack of cameras and men around it makes this a quick swap.
Oliver lets me out, promising to meet me at the next point in a few hours, and I quickly scale the fence, landing with ease.
I check the numbers on the cab, crossing them with the ones on my manifest, ensuring I have the right one.
It’s a quiet night, the clouds making it difficult to see the stars, but I know they’re out there. I work a little magic, unlocking the door and starting the engine, and soon enough I’m cruising down the highway, windows down.
Night runs are exhausting, but the open road and silence are something I can’t take for granted, allowing me time to feel a little freedom.
We’re constantly under a microscope, almost like we’re being occupied with busy work. We’re not hijackers, and this line of work is below our skill set, a fact that I’m sure he is well aware of.
Something tells me the other shoe is going to drop soon, but when or what the fallout will be, has yet to be determined.
Finally, the warehouse I’m looking for comes into view, and slowly, I pull up to the gate, punching in the generated code.
It’s silent here as well, and although I love it when things go smoothly, this seemed a little too easy. I’m on edge, hoping that the routes go over this well the next few nights.
As promised, Oliver is waiting down the road, and I jump in the van, ready for the chance to close my eyes.
No such luck, as Olly feels like a midnight chat is the perfect way to accompany this long ride back to the motel.
“Are you doing alright, Oz? Those pills helping?”
“I’m fine as can be, considering. I can’t help but wonder what the girls have been up to, and who the fuck would’ve thought Pepper could’ve used Lex’s software? I can’t even understand that shit,” I say, and we both let out a howling laugh, the thought almost too funny to be real.
“If the seven of us made a perfect set, Pep was the wildcard, never knowing what to expect with her,” he smiles, the memories seemingly flooding him, too. “On the bright side, I bet Cami and Fal have totally hooked up by now.”
I give him the dirtiest look I can in the darkness and throw an empty coffee cup at him.
“Shut. The. Fuck. Up. Oliver.”
He smirks at me once again, and I shake my head, knowing damn well I’ve wondered the same fucking thing.
“I never thought I’d fall for the five foot fucking three Latina that loves another girl more than me, but fuck, it’s always been her,” he confesses, and I nod along, knowing exactly what he means.
The story of Cami and Oliver started years ago in Jacksonville when she was just a fucked up teenager, and Olly was new to the crew, looking for anything and anyone to distract himself.
It took a lot of growing up on both of their ends, but reuniting with her was the best thing for him, even if it had to come to an end due to circumstances beyond our control.
“Well, I never thought I’d fall in love five days after knowing a girl, but now, I’m so fucking sick for her, I’d do anything to see her for five seconds.”
Oliver smiles, the kind that could thaw anyone’s frozen heart, and I’m reminded of why he’s the one I trust the most out of the guys in the crew.
He gets me without having to say anything else, and we ride in silence for the rest of the way.
As much as I wish I could deal with these feelings alone, it feels good to have Olly beside me whenever we need to trade a few confessions.
We’ve always gravitated toward each other, but now, after being put in this leadership position and having to leave our home behind, we rely on each other more than ever.
“Alright, only a few more,” he says as we arrive at the motel, pulling me in for a hug before we split at the staircase.
“We’ll find them one day, and give them better than this.” I toss over my shoulder, attempting to ease both our gutted hearts.
He hurries off, taking the steps two at a time, and I can’t help the smile that spreads across my face. Oliver’s vulnerability is rarely on display, but in those moments when he does show it, like tonight, I appreciate him even more.
I slide my keycard into the door, waiting until the light turns green before turning the handle, and the darkness welcomes me in. I sigh, knowing this, too, will become a memory within the next few days.
Nothing is worth hanging onto, but out of all the makeshift places we’ve stayed at, this one has been the best so far.
I can only hope that better things are on the horizon once we know our next destination, and we all stay in one piece.
This bed fucking sucks, but I curl up in the middle, and for the first time, I fall fast asleep with no dreams, nightmares, or reminders of the past haunting me.