FALLON
Nothing about my life is normal – I recognize that.
I fell in love with a man after knowing him for five days. I let him carve a heart into my thigh before I knew the extent of what I was getting myself into, or the woman I’d become in his presence.
Contrary to how it may seem, Ozzy didn’t change me.
Loving him has only morphed me into the person I was supposed to be all along, bringing parts of myself out of the woodwork, and allowing me to fully chase my potential. I know my strengths now, what I can handle, how to survive the worst things you could imagine, and the ability to heal the places that were previously damaged.
I can control my destiny, and take revenge on those who’ve stolen from me.
Loving Ozzy hasn’t changed me because I was meant to find him.
Long ago, the stars wrote a story about two broken people who needed each other to meet their true purpose in life, to fuse their souls together as one, and become an unstoppable force of power.
Ozzy and I were created to become something greater than one could achieve on their own, and I firmly believe that we were chosen for each other.
Although our path has been rocky, and filled with difficult choices, we’re still here for a reason.
I could’ve come back with a vengeance after he left me, promising that he’d never see me again, but as much as I tried to convince myself that I was through with him and only needed closure, that would’ve been the easy way out.
Staying beside him, working on the trust that was broken, understanding that I have to love him differently, and allowing myself to be vulnerable again was the hard option – but the most rewarding.
We’ve given ourselves wholly to each other, with the stakes being higher than ever, and I’ve been reminded of why we were supposed to find each other in the first place.
Our connection is special, and our bond will always pull us in the same direction, almost like there’s an invisible string out there controlling us, reminding us of what lies beyond the surface.
It may seem like I’m ruthless, or maybe even a vigilante, but the blood I’ve spilled, and the lives I’ve taken, were deserving of such a merciless act.
Now, as I face another mountain, another decision, another opportunity to drain the life out of another man who wronged me, I relish in what I've become.
Most people dream of exacting their revenge on the person who stained their previously untouched skin, or stepping into the heroine role and ending someone who planned to do the same to you.
I choose to live out that dream.
The blood on my hands doesn’t bother me, in fact, the intense sensation that creeps through my body when I catch a glimpse of the crimson-colored liquid, is my personal euphoria .
I’m taken on a high that I almost never fully come all the way down from, the strength feeding through me afterward is what kept me alive in the wake of tragedy, and severe depression.
I just didn’t realize it until I felt it again today.
When I saw the blood-stained knife, the splattered pattern across my cheeks, the remnants running off my skin and down the drain, I was more alive than I’d ever been.
Hours later, I’m still buzzing, the flashbacks of what I did sending random bursts of energy flowing through me like a jolt of electricity, and the promise of the next life to take is directly on the horizon.
“Fal, you with us?” Oliver asks, pulling me out of my dazed thoughts.
Admittedly, I haven’t been sleeping enough since being back with Ozzy, and I find myself getting lost in my head far too often. When it’s too quiet inside my mind and I fear the silence, that’s when I start to tap into Ozzy’s, his thoughts like a fast-paced hum of a speedboat in the distance.
He grounds me in every sense of the word, so when I’m lost in terms of the conversation we’re having, he senses it, reaching for my hand and gently repeating the question lobbed my way.
“Oliver is wondering how we can trust the word of your stepfather.”
“We can’t, but the data doesn’t lie. Steven said that he collected personal information along with the credit cards, and kept logs on the top subscribers. Once Lex verifies it … that’s the truth we follow,” I offer, shrugging my shoulders as Oliver’s non-stop questioning is starting to send me into a tailspin.
We’ve gone over this three different times now, and as much as he doesn’t want to believe it, the proof will be in the pudding.
“None of us want to think Journey would have hidden this and done such despicable things, but we can’t ignore it either. The three of us need to make a united decision,” Ozzy says, his eyes looking into Oliver’s relentlessly like he’s waiting for something.
“You two want to invoke the three?”
“Yes, at least for this. Lex and Max won’t like it, but they’re our biggest obstacles in getting a unanimous vote. Doc implemented it for this kind of pivotal situation,” Ozzy answers, explaining it all in ways that’ll sway Oliver to our side.
Finally, he agrees, knowing that this has to be dealt with, and we won’t let something this heavy go without consequence.
“For you, Fal, I’ll do it. He’s had this strange obsession with you for so long … I don’t even want to think about it. It’s done,” Oliver says, standing and pulling me in for a hug.
I knew I could count on him, and the sweet satisfaction this decision brings is almost as exciting as the chance to take down the pervert personally.
“What do we do next?” Ozzy asks, his eyes scanning between Olly’s and mine, the impending doom crashing over us all now that we need to formulate a plan.
“Tell Lex what we suspect, and have him verify the data. You think you can get him in here without causing too much of a ruckus?” I ask Oliver, and he nods, instantly taking it as a challenge.
For a few moments, Ozzy and I are alone, and I’m feeling so high from what we did today, I can’t keep my hands off him.
I stroke his cheek gently, pulling him out of the confines of his mind.
“Hey. Are you still okay with this?”
“No, but yes. It has to be done,” he whispers, smiling lazily as he trails his finger along the bridge of my nose.
“You can talk to me if anything is bothering you. You know that, right?” I ask, climbing onto his lap.
“I know, Bambi. I’m honestly … numb. The betrayal stings, cuts like a knife, but I have to separate who he was to me, from what we found about him,” he confesses, a slight twinge of sadness in his voice.
I know what he means, the lines have been blurred, and so much has been lost already, but I can’t lose focus now. I’m separating what I need to do, in the name of revenge, and taking back control of our lives.
“Did you know octopuses have three hearts?” I ask, a slow grin creeping across my face.
Ozzy is struggling more than he’s letting on, and I’m taking us all the way back to basics to help him get out of his own head.
“Yeah?” He bites his lower lip, stifling a laugh, and I decide to hit him with another one, smashing through that exterior he’s fronting.
“Hummingbirds are the only birds that can fly backward,” I say proudly, a wave of butterflies flowing through my belly as I recall those first few days we spent together.
He was so fascinated with all the knowledge I carried, and he actively tried to research facts to stump me. It’s one of the bottom bricks of our relationship’s foundation, what everything was built on top of, and I think it’s time we get back to what makes us unstoppable. What turned us into Fallon and Ozzy.
“Did your mother ever tell you what the name Fallon means?” He asks, tilting my chin so our gaze is locked.
I shake my head no, and his eyes sparkle, as if he’s thrilled to be the one to break it to me.
“Descended from a ruler, or superior.”
My breath hitches, and tears sting my eyelids, threatening to spill at his airy words. His voice barely registers as a whisper, and I feel even more powerful than I did earlier this afternoon.
“Really?” I manage, my speech coming out more like a squeak.
“I may, or may not have, done research while we were apart. I always knew your strength, Fallon. Turns out, your name is another source of the unlimited power within you,” he explains, and his words bring out the emotional side of me.
The fact that he was still searching things, especially about me, is cracking another piece of the girl he left behind. I can’t stop crying if I tried, while I fought so hard to forget what made us, us , he was holding onto those things for dear life – holding onto a shred of me .
“I think you win this round, you’ve absolutely stumped me,” I confess as he swipes mascara-stained tears from my cheeks, and I choke out a small laugh.
“You’ll always be the nerd, Bambi,” he says, just as Oliver and Lex poke through the door to our hotel room.
“Ready?” Oliver asks, and we both nod, ready to get this out of the way.
Lex files in, all eyes on him as he looks around the room uncomfortably. It’s obvious that we brought him here, alone, for a reason, and he hates being in the spotlight.
“So, what’s with the super secret sleuthing?”
Three of us exchange glances, and I can read it in both their eyes – they don’t want to bring it up first.
Neither do I, considering I’m the victim, but I sigh, pulling up my big girl panties and ripping the bandaid.
“When you guys came in the house, my stepdad recognized Journey,” I start, waiting to see how fast he’ll catch on.
“How?” He asks, always the man of few words.
“That client list he turned over to us, how far through it have you gotten?”
“Not far. It’s … long,” he says softly, averting his eyes from mine.
I know he’s trying to spare my feelings, or at least be sensitive to what I’ve been through, but this isn’t the time to play coy.
“Journey is on that list. He’s a subscriber, and has been for years. He knew who I was when we all met, and according to Steven, he’s still an active member of the website.” I let it come out like word-vomit, dropping the truth right into his lap.
Ozzy and Oliver are still silent, both of them ghostly-white as they wait for Lex’s initial reaction, and I hold my breath in turn, hoping this doesn’t require much convincing. All he has to do for now is look into the data, numbers don’t lie and he knows that best.
“Wow, I always knew he was a slime ball, but this … is next level. How do I factor into this?” He asks, pushing the glasses further up his nose as he steals glances at Oliver and Ozzy.
“Verify if it’s true,” Oliver chimes in, and just like that, we’ve reeled him in.
His past encounters with Journey regarding Pepper float back into my mind, and I realize this wasn’t going to need much convincing, after all. Lex is in the same boat we are, and it feels good to have him on our side.
“I’ll do it while we drive tomorrow. Tonight is reserved for Mr. A., and easing Pepper’s nerves about her birth mother,” he bargains, and we all nod in agreement.
“Thanks, Lex. It means a lot,” I say, and he holds his hand up, waving me off.
“If it’s true, it’s vile and despicable. My vote lies with the truth.”
The room feels lighter, and now that the four of us are on the same page, all that’s left is to prove it, which I don’t think will be an issue.
The mood shifts, as well as the conversation, switching to Pepper, and how nervous she is about tomorrow. Lex is the only one going with her, while the rest of us are tasked with renting a house. The guys are sick of hotels, considering they’ve lived in one for the last three months, and I’m ready to sleep somewhere a little less exposed.
Besides, we’re back together again, and I want nothing more than to feel like a family again.
Tomorrow sounds like a day to let loose, like we used to at the dealership, but today, I’m still in business mode.
Rather than sit around bullshitting, I want to get to work.
“Lex, can I take a look at what you have so far?” I ask just as he stands to leave.
“Suit yourself, it’s very preliminary,” he answers, and I shrug, needing to throw myself into something.
Ozzy’s face reads like he doesn’t think it’s a good idea, considering his raised eyebrow and pursed lips, but I’m fine .
The best thing for me is to stay busy, to keep my mind alive, and that’s what I intend to do. I need to restart my notes, and begin organizing things in a way that’ll help us moving forward.
I can’t do that if I’m shooting the breeze with the guys, or being handled like glass by Ozzy.
“I’ll let you go,” he offers, and I’m a little shocked he didn’t want to join me.
I don’t want to leave things unsaid or uncomfortable between us, so I hang back, taking a moment to ensure we’re okay.
“I’ll be right up,” I say to the guys, and they excuse themselves quickly.
I run my hands through Ozzy’s curls, pulling him into me, and he looks up at me with those captivating, dark, sad eyes.
“Don’t worry about me, Bambi. You go. I can tell you need something to do,” he whispers, tipping his head back as I dig my nails into his scalp.
“Are you sure? I can’t walk away from you if we’re not in a good place.” I sigh, hating this anxiousness creeping through my bones.
I have to trust my intuition, and last time I felt something was wrong with us, he was in fact lying to me. We used to be able to talk about everything and anything, a part of our super-strengthened bond, but I can’t handle distance in our relationship. Not when we’re just getting back to normal.
“Hey, look at me,” he says, as I close my eyes, hoping to block out my racing thoughts.
I shake my head, not wanting to see the sadness on his face, but he pulls me closer, placing a gentle kiss on my forehead. “Look at me.”
Finally, I open my eyes into his, and there are pools of tears welling in his glassy expression.
“What?” I breathe, the word barely escaping my throat.
“We’re fine, Bambi. More than fine, I’ve never been more thankful, grateful, or happy to have you with me,” he says, caressing my cheeks as he speaks.
I’ve seen him like this before, it’s like a film on repeat, but I didn’t like the ending the first time.
I want to believe him, but the fact that he’s emotionally charged makes me want to run and hide. Instead, I stand firm, vowing to get an answer out of him. Whatever it is, we can handle it, together.
“So, what’s the matter then?”
He sighs this time, almost like he’s stalling, but he knows how stubborn I am, and how I get when I refuse to let something go. I’m a dog with a bone, and right now, whatever is on Ozzy’s mind is what I’m latching onto, with no chance of dropping it.
“I don’t want to see the client list, or god forbid , those pictures of you. Not right now, at least. I can’t … see a long list of men who signed up to look at a teenage girl. It’ll send me into a rage, Fallon. I don’t think I’d be able to hold myself back.”
Instantly, I drop my head onto his shoulder, overcome with emotion once again.
How is this man real ?
His chest heaves as he latches onto me, wrapping me up so tightly I feel his body vibrating against mine as the sobs work their way through him. This is my story, my survival guide, but he’s taking it to heart, making my pain his own. So much so, that he’s barely hanging on, coming apart at the seams, and I don’t know how to help him work through this.
He’s always said he wished he could save me from that life, or take my pain away so I’d never feel it again, but this time, he’s taking it so literally that I’m worried about his mental health.
I want to ask if he’s been consistent with his antidepressants, but I choose to save that conversation for the morning. Right now, he’s fragile, breaking in my arms, and I want to fix him, not scrutinize him.
“Ozzy, baby, this isn’t your burden,” I say, bringing his forehead to mine, attempting to synchronize our breathing.
“Every ounce of pain inside your body is my burden. I don’t want you to feel it, and I can’t think about the people who’ve gotten pleasure from your years of suffering. I just … think it’s best if I hang back tonight. I promise, I’ll be stronger next time, for the next meeting,” he chokes out, his tears falling so rapidly that they’ve taken shelter on my cheeks, too.
My heart is breaking inside my chest, his hurt is consuming me, too. We’re so connected that we don’t need to steal each other’s pain, it just naturally transfers bodies, infecting us both with the venom trapped inside our minds, and souls.
“I don’t need to go up there tonight. I need to be with you,” I say, climbing off him and holding my hand out for him to take.
Reluctantly, his fingers lace through mine, and I stand on my tiptoes to lift the shirt over his head. I toss it on the floor, trailing my hands over his shoulders, and placing gentle kisses along his chest. He groans, dropping his grip to my waist and squeezing with force.
I fumble with his belt buckle, undoing it and ripping the leather through the loops on his jeans, the clattering of the metal the only sound in the room as it falls to the floor. For once, he’s on display for me , and I take a step back, raking my gaze over his perfectly sculpted body.
Slowly, I examine him, the chiseled muscles in his arms, down to the toned thickness of his thighs. He’s a vision, and I’m in awe of how ruggedly handsome he is, even with his scars and imperfections.
“Don’t look at me like that,” he orders, fisting my hair and pulling me to his lips.
“Like what?”
“Like you want me to throw you onto that bed and make you scream my name so loud we get thrown out of here.”
“What if that’s exactly what I want?”
He kisses me with force before I can say another word, stealing the breath from my lungs and dizzying my thoughts until I feel like I’m spinning in circles.
“Come here,” he says, his mouth pressed against mine, and his arms lifting me off the ground until my legs wrap around his waist in a perfect hold.
We fall into the mattress together, the roughness our bodies crave from one another the only source of movement in this room. We stake our claims, trace words on each other’s skin, and sink our teeth into the twisted romance that only we can achieve together.
Nothing else matters, or crosses my mind, as I’m solely focused on healing.
In this bed, we’re absolving ourselves from what we did today, and the torturous things we keep inside our souls. I’m determined to make a lot of things right on my moral compass, but my main priority will be erasing the sadness that we carry in our hearts and exchange like currency.
I’m going to fix us both.
It may sound impossible, or far-fetched, but really, I know I can.