OZZY
Our days are numbered here in Alabama, with only two routes left to run, and we just learned we’ll be relocating to Missouri next.
The pattern is holding, and it confirms Lex’s suspicions that we are moving further west with every new directive.
After two more days of travel, we’ll start laying the groundwork for understanding the lay of the land, and the new routes will come in.
Our boss is nothing but consistent, and we’ve begun to learn how we’re going to operate after doing this for the last three months.
There’s no way of knowing how long we’ll be in one spot, or how many runs we’ll do in an area, but for the most part, everything is cut and dry.
Steal trucks, move trucks to new places, rinse, and repeat.
The hardest part is always settling into a new normal. Most of the time, it makes me miss the places we’ve been before, or even more homesick for North Carolina than usual.
“Oz, you ready to come up?” Lex knocks, and I grab my notebook, a habit I picked up from Fallon.
Everything I think of, or deem important, is jotted down in this little black book. I’m nowhere near as organized as she was; I use boring ink colors, as she’d surely put it, but the pages hold my thoughts, and it’s another small thing that keeps my connection to her alive and thriving.
We have a few hours before the guys go out on the next run, and Lex and I are taking time to go over whatever we have on Mr. A., hoping to come across any breadcrumbs left behind or an earth-shattering breakthrough.
Lex’s room is three doors down from mine, and luckily, nobody else is in there. Journey, Max, and Oliver have contributed to this side project, but most of the time, their chattering clouds my mind.
When it’s Lex and I, we work silently, only presenting ideas when they seem suitable. The other guys just shout shit out as it comes to their minds, even if it doesn’t make sense.
One night, Oliver was sleep deprived and threw out the wild theory that Doc is behind all of this, even though we all watched him take his last breath, and know where his fucking body is buried.
Since then, I’ve tried to keep these brainstorming sessions as just the two of us because this is the most important thing to me.
Finding out who ripped me away from Fallon, and arguably stole our lives, is the only mission that matters. These runs, the traveling, and the compliance are all a ruse until we know his identity.
Then, the war begins.
“Anything new?” I ask, and Lex pops his head out from around his laptop.
“No, nothing on the truck front. I’ve compiled all the emails, as usual, but nothing stands out. We’re still in the dark,” he admits, and I nod, expecting that news.
This man is sharp. He doesn’t make mistakes, and believe me, we’ve been waiting for even one tiny, minuscule slip-up that hasn’t yet come.
Right now, all we have to go on is previous information and emails. We don’t get paid, as we’re in his debt for the million dollars that wasn’t exchanged for Fallon’s life, and Mr. A. added an additional million dollars to the total as retribution for the lives of the two men we killed.
So far, we’ve worked off a little more than a million, and as long as we keep pushing, we’ll start getting paid. Then, Lex can begin reverse-tracing the wire payments, and there’s much more hope in that.
Behind Lex’s makeshift desk is the poster board we use for notes, and there’s a large question mark between Mr. A., Jacksonville, and Fallon.
After we left North Carolina, and I healed from the concussion, I decided it was time to tell the guys what I’d been holding back on.
At first, they weren’t pleased, but once I was able to explain the connections, and why we thought it was important to move covertly, they understood.
That also meant that I had to explain why I left Fallon behind, and why she was kept completely in the dark about it. Even Oliver was shocked, learning that she was capable of murder and hiding it so well.
The stakes have never been higher, and that day, when I confessed the connections Fallon made I realized something: each of the guys was mourning losing her, too.
She was the glue.
The backbone.
Fallon was our missing piece.
I wasn’t the only one grieving what was lost, and it took a lot of time before I was able to understand how my choices to keep things from them – and her – affected us all. We’ve gone in circles about it, but it’s a moot point until we find the person responsible for breaking our little family apart.
I’m staring at this blank page in my notebook, hoping for a new idea or a cryptic clue that could fall into my lap, but it’s useless. We’ve been at this for so long that it’s becoming more frustrating than therapeutic at this point.
At first, the hours spent hovering over a laptop, or writing down notes, ideas, and clues made it feel like I was doing something to change our situation — like I was making a difference.
Now, it just grinds my nerves, knowing that we’re no closer to the end goal than we were last week, last month, or the months before that.
“Ozzy, there’s no movement on the cameras at the storage unit,” Lex updates, and I shake my head, knowing that’ll always be a dead end.
Max and Journey cleaned the place out and terminated the lease agreement when Fallon was kidnapped, ending our ties to one of the only things that kept us relevant to Doc.
Now, it’s been rented to someone new, but Lex is adamant about checking those cameras, hoping that someone out of the ordinary will show up one day.
Who am I to stop him, though? With the connection being Jacksonville, nothing can ever be fully ruled out.
“Who’s on for tonight?”
“Journey’s on the truck, and Max is back up,” he says, barely looking up from his screen.
“And the girls? Any new charges?” I ask, peering over his shoulder.
“No, that seemed to be a one-time thing. Maybe Pepper was testing her tech skills,” he laughs, a look of sadness in his eyes.
“Hey, you taught her well. Who knew,” I joke, but his jaw hardens, and he shifts in his chair, turning to face me.
“I knew. Everyone discounts her because of her silly name, her personality, and of course, the hair, but deep down … Pepper is smart as hell. Shit, she understood my software faster than I did when I was training. Pepper gets way more credit than anyone gives her,” he says sternly, and I take a step back, giving him space.
“You know your girl better than anyone, Lex. But, you’re right, she deserves the credit where it’s due.”
“I knew she was the one for me about ten minutes after I met her in the club that night. She made a stupid dad joke, and I just melted. My brain short-circuited, and I could barely speak, but in some twist of luck, she came back to the dealership with me. I told her that, too, and she didn’t run or think it was weird. She simply asked me to be gentle with her, and the rest would follow. There are a lot of things I can’t stand, or that really irk me, but people underestimating her is the biggest one,” he confesses, and I absorb his words, knowing they come from a place deep within his soul.
I know where he’s coming from, I’m just as protective over Fallon, if not more, and I’d defend her honor, intelligence, and heart to anyone.
“I’m sorry, Lex. I didn’t mean it from a place of malice, we just truly didn’t know her as well as you do,” I say, clearing my throat and garnering his attention. “The first night I brought Fallon back, I told her I’d wreck her. Nowhere near as romantic as you and Pepper, but for us, it was everything. That’s just who we are. Sometimes, we’re lucky enough to know who our person is from the second we lay eyes on them, and it happened for us both.”
Before either of us can continue the conversation, a loud bang comes at Lex’s door, and we both freeze. I creep toward the peephole, and my body relaxes when I realize it’s just Oliver.
“It’s Olly.” I open the door, and his eyes are wild, like he just went through hell and back.
“You guys aren’t going to fucking believe this,” he starts, glancing between the two of us rapidly.
“What is it, Oliver?” I ask, but he shakes his head, gesturing toward the door.
“Dude, I was outside smoking and … I can’t explain it. Go see for yourselves,” he says, running his hands through his hair and reaching for Lex’s bottle of liquor on the table.
“Really, Oliver?”
Lex doesn’t play when it comes to his alcohol. He’s a bourbon drinker, and his favorite bottle is hard to come by. It’s rare for him to share, and we all know to keep our paws off. Except Oliver apparently, who may or may not have a death wish.
“Jesus Christ, fucking go outside you idiots!” He yells, taking a big swig of the bottle and passing it to me. “You’ll need this first, Oz.”
I hold my hands up in surrender to Lex, whose eyes could burn a hole through us as we pass the bottle back and forth.
I sip the bourbon and snag a cigarette from Oliver’s pack, following his lead out the door. Lex is behind us, following as we round the corner of the building.
Once we’re clear from the overhang, the rain drizzles down on us, the clouds and fog making the sky look overcast and gloomy compared to most days around here. If there’s one thing I’ll remember about Alabama, it’s the unforgiving amount of sunshine and humidity, even in the spring.
Across the parking lot there’s a small pavilion with a picnic table where Oliver and I usually spend late nights together, smoking, drinking, and shit-talking, but today, there are a few other occupants at the table, and I swear my mind is playing tricks on me.
Similar to the night when we pulled the job at the apartment building, in the distance I see a girl with purple hair, and I have that sensation in my belly again. The gut feeling that says that’s my Bambi.
It’s impossible, though. There’s no fucking way my girl is here, in Alabama, but as I get closer and my feet move faster, I’d know that woman any-fucking-where.
I see her in my dreams every night.
I see her in places where there’s no hope, no light, and no escape.
But right now, I’m seeing her here – in front of me.
All I need to do is get across this parking lot that suddenly feels a million miles long, and I’ll have her back.
“Bambi!” I yell, and then, the most magical thing happens.
The girl with the lilac-purple hair spins around, and her beautiful eyes meet mine as I cross the threshold from the cement to the grass.
That’s my Bambi.
I can faintly hear Lex reuniting with Pepper in the background, and Cami speaking with Oliver, but my focus is completely trained on Fallon as I’m within a few feet of her for the first time in three long months.
Right now, every thought about retribution, promises, and agreements fly out of my head because nothing, absolutely nothing , could top this moment as I reach for her, getting close enough to touch.
She looks different, though. Slightly smaller, and a lot more tired than I’ve ever seen. The bags under her eyes are ever-present, and her hair isn’t the shiny lilac color it used to be. The blonde roots are grown out, and the ends are dull, like she hasn’t colored it since … since I left.
One of the last memories I have of her is ingrained in my mind, when she was asleep in our bed, and the purple was just beginning to fade.
She’s wearing her signature black leggings and a t-shirt, with what looks like one of my sweatshirts tied in a knot around her waist. A black tote bag is slung over her shoulder, and she’s clinging to it tightly like it’s the only thing keeping her grounded and present in reality.
My excitement is replaced with guilt, stacked on top of what I already carry with me daily, and I know instantly that the girl I remember has been replaced with someone I don’t fully recognize. This Fallon, standing in front of me, has been haunted, and it’s all my fault.
Her doe-like eyes finally meet mine, but the sparkle is long gone, replaced with a stone look that could cut me in half, and her body language clues me into how much pain she’s been through. Everything about her radiates sadness, and my heart drops in my chest, as the proof is right in front of me.
I left her, and she hasn’t been the same for one second since.