OZZY
I’ve been hauling trucks and stealing from unsuspecting people like a teenager for three months when I could’ve been doing something meaningful with my life.
I could’ve been a father.
Fallon was pregnant, carrying our child when I left, and I’ll never be able to forgive myself for missing out on what should’ve been the happiest moments of our lives.
Instead of welcoming the biggest blessing, we’re forced to mourn our boy and put the pieces of our crumbled relationship back together.
I’m so angry that I’m ready to rip heads from bodies, but first, I need to prove to Fallon that I’m committed to her, being with her wholeheartedly, and there won’t be a thing that I hide from her. Keeping her safe and alive is a part of that, but it will no longer take priority over our relationship. She can hold her own, making the toughest choices and living through shit that I can’t even imagine, and I proved myself weak under the guise of my own twisted need to be her hero.
Fallon doesn’t need me to protect her or keep her alive, she can do that all on her own. What she needs is me to be with her, and hold the pieces of her together that threaten to fall apart in my absence.
I’ve never seen her so sad, so somber, and I’ve witnessed the worst moments of her life. The aftermath of her kidnapping, and the second she decided to kill a man. The stories of her stepfather never brought her this far down a rabbit hole, and it’s hard to swallow the raw truth that I’m the sole reason behind her descent into darkness.
I meant what I said to her, we’ll do it right next time , and that’s the only promise I’ve made recently that I’m willing to keep. Everything else pales in comparison, falling all the way down my list of priorities.
My focus has been retrained, back to where it belongs, and nothing will stop me from keeping Fallon close, and destroying our enemies.
It’s early, and she’s still asleep beside me, her light snoring filling the otherwise empty motel room. It’s a sound I’ve dearly missed, and I wish I could bottle it up, saving it for when the silence is too loud.
I glance over at her sleeping peacefully, and my heart swells inside my chest. She looks perfect, the stray hairs framing her face that fell out of the loose ponytail, and the slight way her eyebrows are knitted together, like she’s dreaming about something that requires deep thought.
Sleep couldn’t possibly find me tonight, as I lay here drowning in all the possibilities I never knew existed until a few hours ago. We made plans and had big dreams, but nothing could’ve prepared me for how cruelly those things can be given, and then instantly taken away.
“Your thoughts are so loud, Ozzy,” Fallon groans, stretching out and cuddling back up to the blanket.
“I’m sorry, Bambi. Come here,” I whisper, holding my arms out until she’s back in the comfort of my embrace.
That familiar scent of vanilla creeps in, and I’m fucking weak, just as I was the first time I kissed her. It’s been so long since her perfume has brought me to my knees, and it’s a welcome kryptonite that I’d willingly succumb to for the rest of my life.
“I missed you,” she says softly, her voice still groggy from sleep, and I feel all the air leave my lungs.
I didn’t expect her confessions so soon, but I have to take things at her pace – it’s the only way she can open her heart to trusting me again.
“I missed you, Bambi. More than you’ll ever know.”
Maybe she doesn’t believe me right now, but that’s alright. I’m a patient man, and I’d wait a lifetime if that’s what makes her comfortable.
“What happens next?” She asks, clinging to my chest, and sighing against my scars.
“We leave for Missouri tonight, get settled in a new place, and then the cycle restarts,” I explain, realizing how pathetic that sounds as she nods slightly, and I can feel her body tensing under mine.
That’s not quite what she was asking, and I know she can sense when I’m holding back from her.
“And what about us?”
“I have no plans of letting you go, Fallon. But if you want to leave, I won’t stop you,” I tell her, wrapping my arms around her tighter as if that’s going to be enough to convince her to stay.
“I don’t know what I want, but I’m not leaving. Not yet,” she says, and a sliver of hope opens in my heart.
I take that for what it’s worth, and I couldn’t ask for anything more from her, not right now. Whether she’s here for us, for revenge, or a mix of both, it’s absolutely enough, and I won’t dare ask her to elaborate.
“Can I get you anything? Coffee or breakfast?” I change the subject, not wanting to immediately bring back the heavy conversations.
“A shower would be nice.”
I can’t tell if that’s a statement or an invitation, so I stay back, letting her dictate whether she wants company or not. I won’t dare sneak a peek unless she says so, that much she’s well aware of.
“I’ll be right here if you need me, Bambi.”
Her eyes dart to the coffee table, landing on the ultrasound picture, and relief washes over her body once it’s in her hands, almost as if that photo is her lifeline. I have an ominous feeling that she doesn’t go far without it close by, and I watch as she takes it in the bathroom with her, listening as she closes the door, the click of the lock the only other sound in this room.
I take the liberty of cleaning up the room, tossing all the takeout containers in the trash, and collecting all of Fallon’s belongings back into her tote bag.
She’s been in the bathroom a while, and when I turn on the faucet to brush my teeth, I can hear the faint sound of her cries through the door. In a moment that’s new for me, I call on every strength I possess not to barge into her private moment and hold her against my body.
I’m not her hero.
I give her space, give her the whole room, and stand outside with the door propped, lighting a cigarette while the sun slowly begins to rise.
Her coming here took a lot of courage, and confessing the most painful thing she’s ever done has to have taken its emotional toll. I choose to respect that, rather than beg her to be vulnerable with me. We had enough moments last night, and she deserves one all to herself.
“Long night, or early morning?” Oliver laughs, sneaking up behind me.
“Both. How’s Camila?” I hold my pack out for him to take a cigarette, and he does, patiently waiting while I produce a black bic from my pocket.
“Numb. Indifferent. I don’t know, something happened between her and Fallon, but I couldn’t get it out of her. Any ideas?”
“No, sorry, man. We had other things to discuss, Cami never came up,” I say, shrugging my shoulders.
Oliver runs his hand through his dark hair, pushing it out of his face, and wrapping his jacket around himself tighter. It’s chilly this morning, enough where we can see our breaths, which is rare in Alabama.
“Everything okay with you two?” He changes the conversation, looking directly at me.
“Not really, but we’re getting there. A lot happened in three months.”
“I know, but you two will be fine. That, I believe in, everything else can get fucked,” he says, shaking his head.
“I should’ve been a dad,” I blurt out, and it takes him a minute to register my words.
“ Oh fuck . That’s fucking … heavy. Is she okay?” He asks, and I can’t help but smile.
Oliver’s my brother, my right-hand man, the only one I trust, but he’s loyal to a fault, and his loyalty lies with her .
“No. She’s not.” I give him an honest answer, and he’s taken aback, always hoping for the best, but he doesn’t skip a beat.
“And you? Should I be worried about you, Oz?”
“I’ll be okay once the ideas of what could’ve been pass. She’s had more time to process this than me, but it’s really devastated her in ways that I can’t even imagine, and I’m going through it too,” I confess, and he nods along as I speak, listening intently.
“One day, I’ll be an uncle. The best one any kid has ever had.” He smiles, slapping me on the shoulder and stomping out his cigarette.
“You get one chance to mention it, then you let it go, alright?” I say sternly, allowing my protective side to sneak out when she’s not here to witness it.
“I’ll offer my condolences if I feel the moment is right. I don’t want to hurt her more than she’s been through, that wouldn’t be fair,” he answers, and I realize how lucky I am that he’s my best friend.
If I ever needed someone, or a minute to vent, Oliver is my guy. He’s simply irreplaceable.
“Is Cami in this for the long haul?” I ask, ensuring I check in on him too.
“I don’t think so. Something about her is different, like I’m not the person she lost. I have a feeling you may have won the battle for Fallon’s heart.” He reeks of sadness, but I don’t press any further – if something happened between Cami and Fallon, I’m sure it’ll work itself out.
Just as I try my hand at advice, Fallon pops out, shielding her eyes from the sun.
Her hair is dripping wet, and she’s helped herself to my clothes, looking fucking perfect in them, as usual. It’s as if everything has clicked back into place, closing the gap in the universe that kept us apart, and restarting where we left off.
“Morning boys.” She smiles effortlessly, but it doesn’t reach her eyes in the slightest.
When I take a closer look, I can see how bloodshot they are, her irises barely visible behind the dark saucers that have consumed her pupils.
“Fal, it’s incredibly good to see you.” Oliver smiles from ear-to-ear, pulling her in for a tight hug.
Her body relaxes against his, and her lips curve into a playful smile, the kind that’s reserved for one of her favorite people.
“Oh, Scarecrow. I missed you the most.” She shakes off the emotion pooling behind her eyes, but her smile – albeit dim – is the brightest I’ve seen since the girls arrived as she breaks their embrace.
“You’ve lost me, kid,” he says, stepping back and leaning against the brick wall.
“Wizard of Oz? It’s what Dorothy said to her best friend, the scarecrow.”
“Wasn’t into fairytales. More like monsters, trucks, and video games where I could shoot people’s heads off,” he laughs, and she rolls her eyes at him, standing in between the two of us.
Her gaze transfers from him to me, and she freezes when she sees the cigarette between my fingers.
“What the fuck is that?”
“Bambi –” I start, but she cuts me off.
“Absolutely not, hand ‘em over.” She stands in front of me, hands on her hips, her attitude screaming don’t mess with me.
“Habits, right?” I laugh, quoting her from last night, but her stance doesn’t change.
“Give me the fucking cigarettes, Oswaldo.”
Oliver tries to hide his laughter at her use of my real name, and I shoot daggers at him, telepathically relaying the message for him to at least back me up, but he stays safely out of the line of fire.
“Here, Bambi,” I say, forking them over like a teenager who got caught stealing from their mom’s stash.
“No cancer sticks on my watch. I am your fucking death certificate , remember that,” she reminds me, strutting to the nearest trash can and throwing the brand-new pack away.
“There she is.” Oliver smiles, holding his hand out for a high-five and swiping it away before she can reach him.
“So, what does a day in the life of the runaway brides look like?” She teases, shifting her gaze between the two of us.
“When Lex and the boys drag their asses out of bed, we’ll have a meeting to figure out what to do about this situation,” I explain, and she closes her eyes, looking up at the sky.
“You mean me – us – being here?”
“Yes, you guys being here, as well as the road trip to Missouri,” I say, keeping the promise I made to myself about telling her everything.
“I want to sit in, see what you’ve got after all these months. Is that okay?”
“Are you sure? I don’t want to upset you,” I ask, leaving the rest of my sentence dead in the air as she spits venom back at me, that fiery side of her rejoining the party.
“I’m not made of glass, Ozzy. There’s no fragile sticker on my forehead, is there?”
“Uh, no, there’s not,” I answer reluctantly, unsure of what to say.
I’ve seen her handle people, but she’s never been this forward with me. Usually, she’d push back, but with care and tenderness. This time, I’m fair game, subject to that sharp tongue like an average Joe.
“Okay, I didn’t think so. I had an abortion three months ago. I’ll cry it out when I need to, but I’m not going to fall apart when faced with tough shit. That’s not me, and it never will be. Are we clear?” She keeps her eyes trained on mine, not even glancing at Oliver, and all I can do is nod.
People have said they’re afraid of Fallon, but I never understood why. I know what she’s capable of, and how she can sting someone with her words, but she’s never done it to me. Now that I’m getting the full experience, I’ll admit, I’m shaking in my boots a little.
My girl can lay down the law, and she does it forcefully, without mercy.
“Fal, I’m sorry about your baby. We’ll make him pay,” Oliver says softly, wrapping his arm around her shoulder.
“Thanks, Olly. Want to see our boy?” She asks, a slight smile on her face as she pulls the photo from her pocket.
She glances over at me, that smile still there, and she waves me over, pulling me into their embrace as we all look at the ultrasound picture together.
“We can still show him off, right, baby?”
“Of course, Bambi. Anything you want,” I reassure her, placing a gentle kiss on her temple.
The way she calls me baby has me weak in the knees, barely breathing, but I roll with it. I won’t question her affection, not now, not when we’re just getting back in the swing of things.
“You two will make me an Uncle one day, that much I’m sure of,” Oliver says, mussing up her hair as he walks toward the stairs. “I’m going to wake these fuckers. Get this shit going.”
We watch as he takes the steps two at a time, heading for the rooms occupied by Lex, Journey, and Max.
“Come inside, Bambi, it’s cold out here,” I say, pulling her close to me until our hips bump as we walk.
“I missed him a lot.”
“I know. He might not say it, but he missed you too. They all did. He mentioned something about Cami … you two alright?” I ask, and her body stiffens as I close the door behind us.
She rolls her eyes, reaching for the bottle on my nightstand, and I cringe, realizing how early it is in the day to start drinking.
“She’s delusional. She got mad at me, like ultimatum mad , because I wanted a few nights away from the dealership. That place fucking haunted me, even when I slept in a different room … I couldn’t escape you. I just wanted a break, and she lost her shit on me,” she explains, taking a big swig and flopping onto the bed.
“Fallon, it’s a little early, no?” I ask, but she immediately sits up, her eyes meeting mine with rage behind them.
“Jesus Christ. Not you too. I’m awake, so I’m going to fucking drink, alright? You’re the one who interrupted my sleep-til-noon routine.” She lets out an irritated sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose in frustration, and as much I want to steer her back onto the right path, I let it go, for now.
“Alright, alright. So what, you guys fought?” I ask, sitting beside her on the bed and indulging in her bad habits.
I sip from the bottle, and she smiles, cocking her head to the side like she’s proud of herself for corrupting me, as if I’m not the poster-boy for bringing out the corrupted pieces in a person’s soul.
“Yes, pretty bad, too. She had this idea that when you were gone, I’d just be with her. She did a lot for me, but she acted as if we were in a relationship, and threw you leaving in my face whenever she could. She didn’t love Oliver. She loved me, and without you guys, she thought she had me all to herself. Cami expected me to move on and be happy with just her, but it wasn’t going to work. Safe to say we aren’t speaking currently.” She shrugs her shoulders, seemingly accepting the collateral damage for what it is.
I hate that her relationship with Cami was ruined on my behalf, but it seems like it may have been headed for disaster whether I was gone or not. Oliver confirmed that she didn’t seem interested in him anymore, so it tracks.
“I’m sorry, Bambi. I know what she meant to you,” I say, offering her my condolences over what she lost, besides me.
“It’s fine. I’m over it, honestly. It led me back to Mick and Rae’s, though.” She laughs, and my eyes widen like this is a casual exchange of gossip over breakfast.
“No shit. How’d that go?”
“Just as you’d expect. Mick was a cunt, and Rae offered me solace and sympathy. I was drunk, so I don’t really remember much.” She rolls her eyes again, reaching for my hand. “You love me?”
“More than anything in this world,” I say, not hesitating for a single second.
“Good. I love you, too. You know that, right?” She asks, her eyes finally showing a hint of the sparkle I’m used to.
“I do, but it’s nice to hear, my beautiful girl .”
“Will you help me with something?”
“Anything. Absolutely anything,” I answer, and she smiles, resting her head on my shoulder.
I’d follow her anywhere, and do anything she asked, just to see that smile. You know, the one with her dimples that lights up my entire fucking world – that one.
It’s finally back, and it reaches her eyes, bringing with it that beautiful shimmer I love so much. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do to keep it there, permanently.
* * *
There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for Fallon, but this request is pushing it. My hands look like I came from another planet, frolicking with fucking aliens, because I’m too stubborn to use gloves.
Never again – not until the next time she asks, anyway.
I’ve spent the last hour dying her hair, covering the blonde roots and bringing back the girl with the shiny, lilac-colored hair that captivated me from the second I saw her.
Now, she’s rinsing the dye, nourishing her hair with the conditioner that comes with it, and I’m scrubbing my hands with no luck.
When she asked me to do her hair, I couldn’t think of a better way to re-solidify our bond. I watched her do it once, keeping my distance and offering her company, but actually doing it myself was a different side of the coin, and it made me feel closer to her than I have in a long time.
She sat in the chair watching my every move in the mirror, and we laughed like we used to. Our eyes constantly locked into each other’s as we talked, being our truest selves without the heaviness that our last conversations have carried.
This was us, getting back to the basics, and she even hit me with a few random facts, warming my heart more than her touch has since she arrived in Alabama.
Slowly I can see her healing, and maybe all she needed was to tell me about Angel to feel better, to move forward with the grieving process, absolving herself of the guilt she’s clearly carried because she didn’t have a way to tell me.
“Well, how does it look?” She asks, stepping out of the bathroom in just a towel.
My jaw drops slightly at the sight of her bare skin, but I shake it off, reminding myself to be a gentleman, and I give her a slow clap.
“Perfect, Bambi. You look radiant.” I hold my hand out to her, waiting until her baby-soft skin reaches mine, a stupid, almost child-like grin plastered on my face.
I’m trying to respect her, but fuck , that towel being the only thing covering her body is tempting me like I’ve never been teased before.
She takes it up another notch, purposely planting her ass in my lap and keeping one hand around the fluffy white fabric, ensuring it doesn’t slip off.
“Thank you for helping me. It’s been something I couldn’t face, doing it alone. I’m not sure why,” she says, her doe-like eyes staring directly into mine.
There’s a light knock on the door, and I tip my head back, groaning at the ceiling because of the interruption. I know what they want, what’s expected of me, but I don’t want to leave this safety bubble Fallon and I have coated ourselves in.
“Not yet,” she whispers, resting her head on my shoulder and snuggling herself into the nape of my neck.
“Five minutes!” I call out, and the knocking stops, thankfully.
“What do you need, Fallon?” I ask, slowly wrapping my arms around her, not making any sudden moves that may scare her away.
“Just … hold me. Please.”
I do exactly as she asks, pressing our bodies together even closer, dreading the second I have to let her go.
She’s breaking those walls down, letting me in again, and I’d fucking lock us in this room forever if it meant that we’d get to keep having these moments. She’s the only important thing to me, and everything else can go straight to hell in a fucking hand basket for all I care.
“I have conditions … if I stay,” she says softly, her breath tickling me and leaving goosebumps on my neck.
“I’ll do every single one of them, Bambi. Without question or hesitation,” I assure her, but my words aren’t what she’s looking for, that much I know.
“I need to know everything. Every step, every detail. Leaving me in the dark is … unacceptable. I would’ve followed you blindly into the pits of hell, but not anymore. I need to know things.” She sits up, flicking her tongue across her bottom lip and running her hands through her damp hair.
“Done, not even a question. What else?”
“We’re not playing games anymore. I have ideas, ways to find this asshole, and I refuse to follow orders. We’re done with this trucking bullshit, from now on, it’s an endgame, not a yes-sir operation.”
“I want to hear everything you’ve got,” I reciprocate, and she nods, but I can see she’s not finished yet.
“Lastly, if you lie to me, I’m leaving. I’m not made of glass, and I can handle the truth a lot better than I can handle a lie, okay? Just … fucking respect me, Ozzy, and tell me what’s going on,” she states, with no room for miscommunication, and I swear to god, I’m getting butterflies listening to her no-bullshit terms.
“You’re the boss, Bambi. You won’t get any pushback from me, but I’ll warn you, I don’t run things anymore. I’ve let Mr. A. do the leading, but say the word, and that changes,” I tell her honestly, and she takes my hands in hers, keeping our gaze locked.
“That changes now. I’m done letting someone else dictate my future. If that’s too much –” she starts, but I cut her off by pressing my index finger to her lips.
“Not at all. I’m the King, you’re my Queen. Anything else?” I ask, proving to her that I’m in this for her, and nothing more.
“Yeah, one more thing. Will you kiss me? I need to know this is real ,” she says, a slight smirk crawling across her face as she hovers above my lips.
“Oh, Fallon. It’s real ,” I whisper, cupping her face in my hands gently and pulling her lips to mine.
There go those fireworks again, reminding me how she’s always been my perfect match, and I let go of her cheeks, tangling my hands in her hair as I pull her closer to me.
We move slowly, allowing ourselves to remember what kissing the other felt like, but in a split second, she parts her lips, inviting my tongue in, and I can’t hold back any longer.
I fight against hers for dominance, tasting the vodka on her tongue and remembering exactly how I felt the first time, the best time, and the final time I kissed her.
I’m transported to a place where every single kiss we’ve ever shared flies through my mind, and I can’t help but bite her bottom lip, leading us on an adventure where her soft moans fill the silent room.
This kiss is better than all the rest, solely because it will fuck me up for as long as I live.
This is our restart, the beginning of a brand new book where the chapters are ours to write, and each letter on the page is dictated by every move we make once our lips finally break apart.
She adjusts herself, wrapping her arms around my neck and taking control, grinding her hips against the growing erection I’m sporting between my jeans, and the towel covering her body.
I’m hers to wreck – to fucking obliterate – as long as I’m allowed to remember the ways she touches me and how fucking good she tastes.
“Wow,” she whispers, tracing my jawline and weaving her fingers through my beard.
“Say the word, Bambi, and I’ll be on my knees, following any order you give me. Let me make up for all the pain I’ve caused you,” I beg, looking into her eyes, which have finally returned to their normal size and sparkle.
“Now that’s a sight I can’t fucking wait to see, but for now, we have business to attend to,” she says, climbing off me and digging around for something to wear.
I follow her body across the room, watching as she carefully lays out an outfit on the bed, and my breath hitches at the sight of her baby pink bra and panty set.
She doesn’t choose my clothes this time, opting for a pair of jeans and a T-shirt from her bag.
I watch in awe as the towel slips to the floor, but her eyes stay on mine the entire time.
“I can, um, go somewhere else,” I stutter, but she shakes her head.
“Not a chance, baby. You’re going to sit right there and see what’s at stake. What you’ll be sacrificing if you fuck with my head, and my heart, again,” she smirks, slowly stepping into the lace fabric, and trailing it over her deliciously thick thighs until it covers her.
I can’t tear my eyes away, watching as she hides her perfect tits from me, the bra swallowing her stiff nipples and leaving me fucking breathless in this chair.
This game continues until she’s fully clothed, and I’m fully strained, my cock begging to be let loose on the beautiful creature in front of me.
“Now that we’re decent … let’s command a room, what do you say, Ozzy?” She asks, holding her hand out to mine.
As much as her body captures my attention, it’s her brain that hypnotizes me more than anything. I’m nothing but a simple fucking man, in the presence of a Goddess, and I’ve been completely humbled by her in only a matter of minutes.
I lace my fingers into hers, giving her permission to drag me across the world, but instead, she leads us upstairs, walking into Lex’s room like she owns the goddamned place.
“Fuck all of this. Fuck these posters and the orders he’s been giving you guys,” she says calmly, walking over and tearing every piece of paper off the walls. “I know how to find him, but we need to go to the source. The place where all the fucking criminals go to get their rocks off. Who’s with me?”
“Where, Fallon?” Max asks, the only dumbass brave enough to speak when she’s in the middle of a demonstration.
“We’re going home, Max. Raise your hand if you’ve been to New Jersey.” She giggles at herself, something maniacal in her tone, dancing across her eyes, that even I haven’t seen.
“Bambi, what are you talking about?” I ask, but she places her index finger over her lips, finding a blank piece of paper and a pen.
We all sit in silence, watching as she draws a literal picture, nobody brave enough to interrupt her. Something about this version of Fallon has us all planted in our seats, giving her the space to work this out.
I glance over at Pepper, who shakes her head, probably thinking the absolute worst of her right now.
Cami looks unbothered, and I realize what Fallon meant, how she’s detached and uninterested in everything going on around her. She’d rather be anywhere else, and that much is evident.
The guys don’t fight it, allowing Fallon to do her thing, and when she finally holds up her project to show off to the class, my body tenses in response.
For the first time, she’s given everyone else in this room a peek into the life she lived before me, and although it used to haunt her, she beams with pride, excited to share something that could help.
“My stepfather is a fucking pervert, but he has the dark web in a stranglehold. He probably made hundreds of dollars off my body in the time it took me to write this down, but … Mr. A. knew about this side of me. Intently . And there’s a strong possibility that he’s on my client list. So, who’s up for a road trip up North?” She asks, a smile on her face that I haven’t seen in ages, but I realize it’s because she finally feels useful again, something I stole from her once she returned home safely from her kidnapping.
This might destroy her, going home to where she lived with her evil stepfather, but she’s out for blood, and I can support that.
“How can you be sure there’s a list?” Journey speaks up, and all eyes are on him while his face turns bright red.
“My stepfather has a detailed list of every subscriber who tuned into my sexual exploitation from the ripe age of fifteen … until I ran away when I was nineteen. I’m positive that he still has it, and continuously adds to it. It’s his only source of income and blackmail,” she explains, and everyone nods along, following her explanation and understanding the direction she wants to move in.
Except Journey.
He fights back at every turn, but Fallon isn’t having it, countering everything he’s arguing.
“You can’t be sure of that, it’s been so long since you left, from what you said, how do you know he still updates?” He asks, but she only shakes her head in response.
“It’s a website dedicated to photos of me, of course I check it regularly, Journey. He fucking uploaded pictures of me, shots he took when I was seventeen except with brand new, never-before-seen angles, three days ago . I’m long gone, but he still profits off my body, and he’s fucking selfless about it. Any other questions?”
“No ma’am,” he answers, and we continue planning, debating on the benefits and downsides of disobeying orders.
If we do what Fallon is asking, we’re breaking a contract we got ourselves into with a man behind a curtain, but I’m on board, ready to up-end the hierarchy he implemented and get our fucking lives back.
“So it’s settled, we’re going to New Jersey?” She asks, looking directly at me, waiting for my signal.
“I can’t do this anymore, and frankly, I refuse. I’ve lost too much already. Fallon is in charge now, and if you have a fucking problem with that … the door is right there,” I say, pointing toward the only exit in Lex’s room.
“I’m not a part of this,” Cami speaks up, holding her hands up in surrender.
“You're a coward,” Fallon snaps back, and I race to the front of the room.
I take her body in mine, holding her hands while she shakes, and I witness the strength beginning to fade away as she battles someone she loves, no matter how hard she’s trying to keep a straight face.
“I’m the coward? You’re a fucking puddle for him, with a God complex that he’s letting you have because he feels fucking sorry for you.”
“He sees me, Camila. Not as a prize, or a conquest, but as a human fucking being, with flaws, emotions, and choices. A courtesy you never gave me. That’s the difference between the way I love him, and how you demanded my love, without offering a single thought into the inner workings of my mind!” She yells, the walls vibrating as her voice echoes off them, and Cami recoils, playing on the dramatics and sobbing as she reaches for the doorknob.
Nobody moves, watching as Cami chooses to leave this family, only chased down by Oliver, as their argument can be heard beyond the hum of the air conditioner.
“Anyways, New Jersey smells like ass, and offers nothing but sadness in return, but I’m pretty sure Missouri is no prize, either. Who’s down?” Fallon asks, commanding the room the second her voice breaks through the muffled arguing on the other side of the wall.
“New Jersey it is. You better be right, though, Fallon,” Lex says, shaking his head as he types away on his laptop.
“I can’t be wrong, Lex. It’s my life on the line before anyone else’s,” she says, and I freeze in place knowing that she’s right.
Her being here is a direct breach of contract, and her target is the biggest of us all. Her back is painted bright red, waiting for someone to shoot their shot, but she isn’t the least bit phased.
I should’ve done this months ago, rather than hiding away from her natural abilities to lead.
“Unless someone finds another way, we leave tonight,” I say, standing and concluding this meeting at the same time.
Without any objections from the peanut gallery, I take Fallon by the hand, leading her downstairs to our room, and she falls into my arms the second I unlock and open the door.
“You are a fucking force, Fallon Morell Mariano. I’m terrified of you,” I confess, and she smiles, her hands still clasped into mine.
“You meant that? We do it my way?” She asks, and I nod furiously, relinquishing all control to her.
“You’re in charge now, Bambi. Of everyone, and everything.”
She lets go of my hands, dropping onto the bed, and I collapse beside her, relishing in the way it feels to be under her thumb again.
Arguably, it’s been this way since the second we met, but now, I’m perfectly happy letting her run things, hoping we get further with her at the helm than we have since I’ve been in charge.
“You don’t get to wreck me again,” she whispers, her voice cracking as the words come out.
“I’d never fucking dream of it, Bambi.” I can’t help but smirk as I trace small circles on her cheek, marveling, relishing, fucking worshipping at her unmatched beauty.
She closes her eyes, sighing deeply before opening them back up into mine.
“Let’s find this son of a bitch, Ozzy.” She slightly bites her bottom lip, a sinister smile forming across her cheeks as if the thought of violence flicks a switch inside her.
I know what the idea of blood and brutality does to her, how it gets her going unlike anything else, and I’m positive that this specific brand of the hunt and the kill is going to be the electric current that runs through her body, bringing her back to life.
Bringing her back to me.