FALLON
I tap my fingers on the worn-down wood of the picnic table, but my mother’s words ring loudly in my ears, causing me to shove my hands back into my pockets.
“Stop fidgeting, Bunny. It makes you look afraid.” She’d tell me, always swatting my fingers away from the twirls I’d create with my hair.
I’m not afraid.
I’m more than ready to even the score.
This plastic bag from the hospital is almost burning a hole in the pocket of my jacket, and I’m desperately waiting for the delicious moment that will cross his face when he realizes he lost control over me.
The second I drop his little tracking device on this table, the chess pieces will shift in my direction, and I’ll be the one walking away from here feeling victorious.
I’m alone, too, which is essential in getting this man to break. I’m here to chip at his armor until I see skin, until I have an open target, and I’m confident that today will be that day.
Of course, everyone objected, fearing for my safety, but I wasn’t backing down. I want him to expose his intentions, and finally answer my burning question: why me?
With this, the playing field is level again, and I’m not leaving until I’m satisfied.
In the distance, I see the black SUV pull up, and I shift in my seat, adjusting my posture and painting on my best game-face.
It’s showtime .
As usual, Mr. A is dressed in a tailored suit, this week his color of choice is navy blue with a striped tie and a large, tan overcoat.
His security team stays back, and as I expected, his grin morphs into pure delight when he realizes that Oliver isn’t accompanying me this time.
“Fallon, always a pleasure. Where’s your backup?” He asks, diving right in with the particulars.
“He’s taking the day off. We have a lot to discuss,” I say, folding my hands in front of me and resting them on the table.
Again, I dressed for the occasion, opting for a cable-knit sweater, dark jeans, and a light jacket to keep me warm in the chilly rain.
The clouds are dark, and although it’s the middle of the day, rumbles of thunder can be heard in the distance. The gloomy backdrop matches the energy of this meeting, almost like the weather coordinated with my counterattack.
“We do. Progress report on the security guard?” He cuts straight to business, opting to keep our discussion straightforward this time around.
“Slow, considering I had quite the scare. I wound up in the hospital, which brought the operation to a screeching halt,” I explain, my tongue sharp as I spit the words at him like venom.
“I’m sorry to hear that, is there anything I can do?” He asks, his dark eyes meeting mine in search of a clue, or a slip up.
“Actually, yes. I believe this belongs to you? I’m not one for souvenirs,” I say slowly, dropping the bag on the table with force.
His eyes widen, and one eyebrow raises as he takes the bag in his hand, examining it as if it’s something he’s never seen. He’s a good actor, I’ll give him that, but we both know he had that placed in my scalp, and denying it won’t do either of us any good.
“You know, Fallon, I’ve been watching you for a long time. In Florida, I saw you dancing in that bar with your friends, and when I saw the company you keep, well, I knew I had to intervene, to save you all.” His expression changes into something I haven’t yet seen, like a mixture of reflection and a somber mood.
I’m all ears, my focus completely trained on him as he simmers in the silence for a few beats.
“But why me? Out of everyone you saw that night, why me? I deserve to know that,” I say, breaking his trance and waiting until his eyes retrain themselves on mine.
“Because, you’re just like them. You see, Masha was my world, but her mother was the entire galaxy. Alina gave up, she couldn’t fight the cancer anymore, so she chose to move on, to be with our daughter, but seeing you lit a fire in me. Something protective that I hadn’t felt in years. When I realized that not only were you aware of your men, you were complicit, I wanted to destroy all of you,” he continues, and the words are flowing out of him like vomit today.
I can only hope that Lex’s microphones are all the way up, and they’re catching every syllable of this unexpected confession.
“Okay, so I’m similar to Masha, I’ve heard that before. It doesn’t explain everything else … you took me, forced me to live without my person, my galaxy , but worst of all, you chipped me. As if I were your curious fucking house cat, you put a chip in my body to keep tabs on my location. Why ?” I repeat my same question, but this time, with a softer tone, attacking the weakened side of his mask.
This man is calculated, only showing emotions when he chooses, but today, I’ve got him right where I want him, and I’m taking advantage of every vulnerability he’s offering.
“To keep you safe, Fallon. Destroying the men who killed my daughter, and rescuing the girl who reminded me so much of her was my only mission.”
“I didn’t need your protection! Maybe years ago, when my stepfather was abusing me I could’ve used a father figure but now … I’m a grown woman who makes her own choices. The boundary is being set here, we are co-workers. I am not Masha, and my men did not kill her. We keep things professional, and we can all make some money, how does that sound?” I ask, completely sick to my stomach at his explanation, but asserting my newly acquired dominance.
“Whatever you wish, Fallon. I apologize for such an inappropriate intrusion.” He lowers his head, almost like he means it.
Could he possibly feel remorse for how he’s treated me?
“I almost died, you know. I had metal poisoning, and when I collapsed on the fucking floor, they had to stitch and bandage my head where you inserted that,” I spit, nudging the bag with the tracker in it closer to him.
His eyes sink even lower, and I can sense the guilt he feels about that, like he truly meant what he said about wanting to keep me safe.
He wasn’t trying to hurt me, but he wasn’t letting me go, either.
“You’re strong. Fierce, even, I see why the curly haired one loves you. When he brought that woman home, the one in the latex body suit, I was surprised. I assumed losing you would’ve been his demise, but he had no problem getting back on the horse. I wonder, how did you forgive him for that?” He asks, and his face completely changes back into game mode.
He’s been patronizing me this entire time, waiting for the right moment to play his Ace, and although I refuse to show it, I’m fucking livid. If this was a cartoon, steam would be coming out of every orifice on my body.
If what he’s suggesting is correct, that Ozzy slept with someone else, I don’t think I’ll ever get over that deep a cut. Instead of giving him the satisfaction of walking away with a win, I immediately change the subject.
“Five more days with the guard, then we move with the information he provides?”
“That’ll suffice. I need the contents of the safety deposit box within seven days. Can it be done?” He pulls a small black book from the lapel of his overcoat, jotting down a few notes while he waits for my answer.
This is only the second time I’ve seen him with it, and the first where he’s written details of the job in front of me.
The edges of the pages are slightly frayed, like he doesn’t go anywhere without it, and he’s almost at the end, a few blank pages left before he’ll need a new one.
That’s the opening, the mistake I’ve been waiting for – he takes meticulous notes.
“Seven days, it can be done. I’ll reach out if we need anything from you,” I say, watching as he flips back to the cover and slips the notebook back into his jacket.
“Very well. I hope you feel better, Fallon,” he says, standing and offering his hand out to mine.
Just like every other time, I refuse to shake hands, immediately turning on my heel and slowly crossing through the empty field until the van begins to come back into sight.
I can’t get his words out of my head.
I know he’s trying to rattle me, and it’s fucking working.
When I get back to where we parked earlier, the sliding door is wide open, and Ozzy is pacing the sidewalk, raking his hands through his curls while he waits for me.
“Bambi, you have to let me explain. He’s completely wrong,” he rushes to say, but I hold my hand up, dismissing him instantly.
“Not now,” I say sternly, avoiding his eyes as I climb into the back row.
“You did great, Fal. Everything was clear, caught on audio and video,” Lex praises, and I nod slightly, thankful we’re walking away with more than what we had before.
My mind is spinning, doing fucking somersaults and jumping jacks now that I’m away from Mr. A.
If I were forced to remember every part of our meeting prior to his information slip about Ozzy, I’d have failed miserably, and that’s exactly why he did it.
He chose that moment to drop his little bomb on me, rattling my cage just one more time even when I thought I had the upper hand.
I refuse to break, at least at this moment, so we all ride back to the house in silence, nobody daring to poke me and risk releasing the wrath I’ve got pent up inside me that’s just waiting to be unleashed on the first poor soul I set my sights on.
My mood is ruined, the high I was riding blown out within a matter of seconds, and the only thing I can think of is Ozzy’s hands on someone else.
His lips on another woman’s, that body being open for a bitch to claim as hers, and worst of all, wondering if he liked it.
If she was different, better, or if he even thought of me while he was balls deep in her.
I can’t help the tears that escape, rolling down my cheeks in a slow, cruel motion. I’m not supposed to break like this, but when it comes to us, and the time we spent apart, him being intimate with someone else is a giant slap to the face.
It erases everything we’ve done so far, all the promises made and heartache shared mean nothing. I confessed everything to him, the darkest and saddest thing I’ve ever done and he didn’t have the fucking decency to tell me about his transgressions.
It changes everything, and I would’ve left – just like Cami – if I knew the truth, because there’s no going back from this.
Oliver turns to face me, and I don’t even bother hiding my tears, knowing he won’t judge me for being as upset as I am.
“It’s not true, Fal. I would’ve told you,” he whispers, reaching his hand out for me to take.
I don’t know if I believe him. Sure, he can say he’s loyal to me, it’s his literal job, but Ozzy and Oliver are as tight as bonded brothers come, so no, I don’t think he’d have told me.
I don’t say anything, placing my hand in his and taking comfort in his gesture.
I’m not ready to hear about the slut he tried to replace me with, so once we’re home, I slam the bedroom door shut so hard the house shakes, signaling that I absolutely do not want company.
I haven’t felt anger or sadness like this in a while, and it doesn’t sit right with me.
I’m supposed to be healing, moving toward living an overall happier life, but how can I do that when everywhere I turn, something new is threatening to disturb my peace?
After a few hours of tears, staring at the ceiling, and torturing myself with conjured images of Ozzy with a woman in a latex bodysuit, I decide to crawl out from this cloud of misery.
I need answers, so I take off in search of the man who can deliver.
I don’t have to go far, as the second I open the door, I find him sitting on the floor in front of it, his sad eyes immediately meeting mine.
He’s utterly disheveled, his hair tangled in knots, and tear-stains standing out against his flushed cheeks.
“What are you doing?” I ask, crossing my arms over my chest.
It doesn’t make me feel any better seeing him like this, but I’m still angry, and I won’t crumble at the sight of him hurting.
“Waiting for you,” he whispers, running a hand through his growing facial hair.
“The entire time?”
“Since the second you slammed that door, Bambi,” he answers, waiting for me to say something else.
I can read his face, he’s desperate for me to let him in, and I can’t hold back any longer.
I drop to the floor beside him, and immediately, he scoops my body onto his lap, wrapping his arms around me so tightly I’m afraid he’ll never let go.
“I didn’t. I wouldn’t,” he cries, his face nuzzled into my neck as he shakes against me.
A guilty man wouldn’t break down like this, but something had to have happened to give Mr. A. the idea, and I intend to get to the bottom of it.
“Come here. Come on,” I say, climbing off him and holding my hand out for him to lift himself up.
I lead us back into the bedroom, gently shutting the door this time, and Ozzy sits on the bed, waiting for me to sit beside him.
Everything about him right now is breaking my heart.
He is terrified that I’m going to leave, I can hear his panicked thoughts ricocheting in my own head like some kind of anxiety-ridden boomerang.
I stand in between his legs, tilting his chin until he looks up at me. The sorrow is heavy in his expression, and seemingly, all the anger I felt a few moments ago has disappeared, replaced with empathy for the man breaking in front of me.
“Explain, please?”
“There was a woman, but I swear to you, Bambi, nothing happened,” he starts, and I pull my hands away, preferring space while I listen to this.
My stomach is in knots, and my chest is rising and falling so quickly that I’m beginning to feel light-headed.
I need to know the truth, but do I want to hear it?
“What was her name?” I ask, taking a seat on the opposite side of the bed, putting distance between us.
I’m ready to lash out, to lose my fucking mind, but instead, I keep calm – at least for now.
“Tabitha … Tabby,” he says softly, and I roll my eyes so hard they nearly fall out of my head.
“What is this, an episode of fucking Bewitched ?”
“No, listen, please. We met at a club back in Georgia, and I won’t lie to you, she was pretty. But she wasn’t you , Bambi. We danced a little, and when she tried to kiss me, I told her exactly that. I helped her get a little revenge on her ex who worked at the club, and we went our separate ways,” he scrambles, the words rolling out of him like he’s afraid I won’t let him finish.
I want to run, to puke, or smack him upside the head, but I can’t do that because he didn’t do anything wrong .
The weight that was stomping a hole into my chest has lifted, and I slide across the comforter until I’m wrapping my arms around his neck.
“You told her she wasn’t me?” I laugh, and he cracks a tiny smile, lightening the tension between us.
“Yes, I said she wasn’t my Bambi. Imagine her face.” I shake my head, my own smile escaping, and everything feels alright again.
Maybe I overreacted, choosing to believe someone who has every reason to lie over the man who promised he never would again.
“Is that all? Anything else I should know, Ozzy? After this, I’ll kill you if I hear another word about it,” I assert, sliding over his thighs and planting myself firmly on his crotch.
“She gave me her number and it’s in my wallet. She told me to call her before our wedding.” He smiles, and I brush the curls from his eyes, finding nothing but truth in his dark-chocolate irises.
“Well, okay then. You keep it, make good on that promise.” I kiss his cheeks, but he gently tips my chin until our lips meet.
It’s soft and sweet, reaffirming almost, and I fall in sync with him, parting my lips to let his tongue in.
What was meant to be healing, turns passionate and heavy instantly, both of us giving each other a fight for dominance.
Eventually I give in, and Ozzy’s thick hand wraps around my neck, his teeth nipping at my bottom lip as soft moans struggle to escape my throat around his grip.
I buck my hips under him, feeling his eyes burning into mine as a devilish grin spread across his face.
“Ozzy, I need you,” I whine, and he buries himself in my neck, adjusting his grip so my head is tilted to the side, giving him full access.
“Ride me, Fallon. Use me, and take whatever you need from me,” he groans, lightly biting my delicate flesh, and I don’t argue.
I tangle my hands in his curls, holding on as I slowly grind my hips over his jeans, feeling his erection directly on my clit, sending flares of heat through me like fireworks.
Even through the layers of denim between us, I feel the pleasure radiating off us both, his lips still fastened to my neck, surely leaving dark colored tattoos across my skin.
My breathing intensifies, and Ozzy releases his grip on me, shifting his hands to my hips and helping me set an even faster, thrillingly perfect pace.
I’m already so close to the edge, but when he breaks his kisses and looks back at me, the pure love in his lust-blown pupils launches me straight into an earth-shattering orgasm.
My body spasms against his, and my head tips back as I try to hold onto this feeling for as long as I can. Aftershocks keep me paralyzed in Ozzy’s arms, his random thrusts against my clit placing me in a permanent state of bliss.
“Nobody could ever measure up to you, Fallon. No-fucking-body .” He bites down on my shoulder one last time, asserting his claim over me, and I melt again, lazily resting my forehead on his.
“ No-fucking-body .” I repeat, knowing that there’s not a single soul who could compare to this man.
I don’t ask why he was at a club, or what his intentions were because that doesn’t matter. If he was trying to get over me, it didn’t happen, and that’s what does count.
Besides the cruel information dump, my meeting was successful today, and I’m eager to get back to work, ready to put this motherfucker in his coffin.
I’ve made up my mind, and that was the last meeting I’ll be attending.
The game is over, I’m accelerating the timeline and bringing the hunt straight to his doorstep.
It’s time to end this war, and I have so many things on my side, but timing is the secret weapon in my arsenal.