OZZY
It’s been six straight days of research, planning, and gathering information like we’re little squirrels preparing for hibernation.
Every piece of intel is considered important, until it’s determined otherwise, and we’re starting to put a plan in place.
In one week, Mr. A. will want his meeting with Fallon, expecting the contents of the safety deposit box we broke into last night, but he won’t be around that long.
None of us are comfortable letting Fallon be alone with him again, and there’s no telling what his next job or location could be.
We’re not planning to stick around to find out, especially considering the amount of times he mentioned wanting to kill us in his previous sit down with her.
It’s clear that animosity isn’t going away, and the blanket cover of us doing work for him won’t hold up forever.
At first, I was reluctant to move so quickly, mainly fearing for Fallon’s safety, but once we all put our heads into research, the plan became clear, and my fears slowly evaporated.
We all have our roles, and the non-stop studying is beginning to pay off.
Mr. A. lives a few hours away in a big house with his youngest son, a few staff members, and the two security guards we’ve seen leave at nightfall.
Our most recent scouting has focused on the staff, figuring out their schedule, and when their shifts start and end. That’s been harder to get, but we’re heading out tomorrow, taking this mission on the road to gather that last bit of information.
Lex has been studying the security system, tracking the habits of when it’s left unarmed, and when it’s turned on during the evening hours.
Our only priority today is packing up, exiting this rental house, and making it as if we were never here.
We’ve been here for about a month, so erasing ourselves from this place on short notice has been difficult, but Lex has been on cameras all day while the rest of us pack the suitcases.
It’s tough, leaving a place that finally felt like home after all these months of living on the road, but I’m certain that once this final job is complete, we’ll find somewhere that’s perfect for all of us, something that’s all ours.
In the makeshift war room, we have everything written down, meticulously organized by Fallon, and in a rare moment, I find myself alone in here.
I skim over some of the particulars we found, including how Mr. A. presents himself as a legitimate businessman.
By day, he’s a stock broker, a finance guy who convinces poor suckers that he can make their money grow, but by night, it’s a completely different story. Lex dove into his associates, and it’s darker than I expected from Masha’s father, considering she was such a ray of light.
Not only does he hire middlemen for various jobs, most of which seem like they’re for blackmail, he also funnels cocaine through a few nightclubs, having a bank roll of runners at his beck and call.
It’s all complicated, like a tangled web of illegal dealings, but none of this is really useful to our end goal.
At first, I suggested we turn all of this over to the police, forcing him to spend the rest of his life behind bars, but Fallon had no interest in that.
He’s well-respected in his community, and would likely find a slimy lawyer that would get him nothing but a slap on the wrist, and ultimately, we agreed that she’s right.
It’d be a waste of time, and he’d only slip away from us.
“What are you doing here?” Lex asks, carrying a cup of coffee as he slinks back to his desk.
“Shit. Just taking it all in. It doesn’t feel real knowing how close we are to ending this,” I say, dragging my hand over my face and letting out a ragged breath.
“It’s time to take back our lives. For years we’ve been under someone’s thumb, obeying orders and trying to survive, but I don’t want it to be this way anymore,” he confesses, and I nod along with his words, knowing that we all share the same desires.
“We deserve it. Has Max told you his plans?”
“Yes. He had me set him up back in his hometown. He wants to be close to his family.” Lex hates personal talk like this, but he’s more than willing tonight, typing away as he answers my questions.
“What about you and Pepper? Any plans?” I pick his brain further, and again, receive no pushback.
“We’re going to settle down somewhere quiet and plan a wedding once I propose. What about you three?” He shoots back, and I steal a glance at him for the first time, watching as his eyes glow from the laptop on his desk.
Lex is the least conversational man I’ve ever met, but it works for him. He and I talking like this is rare, but for a moment, I think we both need closure.
It’s becoming clear that we’re not all staying together; in a few short days we’ll be splitting up, and that stings more than I anticipated.
For years, all I had were these people, my brothers, and now we’re all staring down our endgames that take different routes.
It’s bittersweet.
“You just assume that Oliver’s coming with us?” I tease, and Lex snorts, his know-it-all syndrome showing itself.
“All those jokes about you and Fallon being mom and dad started with Olly, we all just play along. He looks to you both for just about everything, so yes, I assume he’ll live with you guys until you die,” he chuckles, and I shake my head, but I know he’s right.
“We’re going to travel a bit, find somewhere that feels like home. Fallon has already sworn that he’ll always have a place with us.”
“Stop talking about me like I’m a toddler. I’m a grown man, alright? I want my own snacks in the fridge, and my room must be on the opposite side of the house. I refuse to be traumatized by you two any longer. Those are my terms,” Oliver butts in, laughing as he plops down on the bed.
Right on cue, he brings the comedic relief, and although we’re joking around, a seriousness lingers over the room. We have our biggest mission yet, and at this point, it’s all or nothing, no matter what our plans are after this.
We all need to make it out alive, first. There’s more than prison riding on this — it’s our lives on the line this time.
“We’ve got this, right?” I ask, cutting through the silliness, straight to the bone.
Both men look up at me, similar expressions on their faces like they’ve had the same thoughts.
If they’re scared, they’re not showing it though, and that’s something I can appreciate.
“We have no choice. It’s us, or him,” Oliver states frankly, and Lex nods in agreement.
“Us or him. God, he’s so different from Masha,” I whisper, the thought weighing on me heavily lately as we’ve been digging into his personal life more.
He doesn’t even resemble her, and that’s the scariest part, knowing he was hiding in plain sight for so long, preying on us like we were his next meal.
He’s been ready to devour us since the moment he laid eyes on Fallon, all in the twisted sense he had to protect her.
“It makes sense, though. He blames us for what happened to her,” Lex adds, revisiting the same points we talked about after we learned his identity.
“So do we. At least we have that in common,” I say softly, just as the door opens once again, and Fallon slips into the room.
“Am I interrupting the Boy’s Club?”
“No, Bambi. Just working through this. Are you alright?” I step closer to her, wrapping my arm around her shoulder as she looks up at me.
“Actually, we need you in the kitchen. All of you.” She smiles, waving her hand at us to follow as she slips out from my grasp.
Three of us exchange a glance, but if we're reading each other’s minds, we’re all in the dark on what could possibly be happening in the kitchen.
It’s nearly midnight, the lights are out, but I can faintly make out Pepper and Fallon’s silhouettes around the island in the middle of the room.
Max slides into the group, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, looking less than thrilled to be woken up so late.
“Alright girls, what is it?” Oliver asks, a rare impatience in his voice because he can’t stand surprises.
He’d rather be in on the fun, behind the scenes, rather than being the one who’s shocked.
“Since it’s our last night here, and likely together under one roof, we’re having an ice cream sundae party!” Fallon exclaims, clicking on the ceiling lamp to show off her big reveal.
They spared no detail, I’ll give them that. There’s various flavors, toppings, creams, and even fudge from a bottle.
“Oh, fuck yes!” Oliver cheers, his irritation immediately erased as he flees to the counter, picking up a bowl and spoon.
“Ice cream party, huh?” I ask, pulling Fallon close by her hips and planting a kiss on her forehead.
“I couldn’t let this moment slip through our fingers. We’ve had so much fun here, and back in the dealership, it needed to be honored,” she whispers, cupping my face with her hand and stroking her fingers through my beard.
“It’s perfect, my beautiful girl . Come on, before Oliver eats all the sprinkles straight from the jar,” I say, nodding my head in his direction as he dumps the rainbow candy on a spoon, shoving it directly in his mouth.
“ We’ll never get him to sleep this late. ” She laughs, those two perfect dimples peeking around her cheeks.
We stand back, watching everyone gather their favorite toppings, laughing and making jokes like a true family. I’ll miss these moments a fuck ton more than I thought I would.
It’s the end of an era, one full of pain, loss, and darker times than we could ever admit, but it’s also the start of something wonderful.
My life with Fallon.
We’ll have clean slates, and the world at our fingertips. With endless dreams, ideas, and hopes for our future, this new beginning is ours, and we’ll be free to create new memories.
Create a family of our own, cloning ourselves to pop out little babies mixed with our features and personality traits, raising them to be way fucking better than we are right now.
“Whipped cream?”
“What?” I shake my head, clearing the fog from my mind as I realize I was lost in a daydream.
“Do you want whipped cream, baby?” Fallon repeats, holding the can above my bowl while she waits for my answer.
“Yes, please,” I hum, my eyes trailing her body as I give her a small wink.
“You’re not going anywhere near there until you trim this,” she remarks, spraying the cream on my lips and grown out beard.
I knew she was starting to hate it, since she’s always tugging at it one way or another, but challenging me with no sex until it’s cleaned up? That’s a mistake .
“Oh, we’ll see about that, Bambi,” I whisper against her neck, rubbing the whipped cream into her skin, and gently licking it back off.
She shudders slightly, her cheeks flushing pink as she looks into my eyes. Her eyelids narrow into a thin slit, like she’s reading my mind, and I think we’ve just found a way to keep this roadtrip a little more interesting.
“See, this is why I need my own wing of the house. It’s a fucking ice cream party, weirdos!” Oliver cracks, gesturing toward us like we’re a sight to see as he slithers back to the center island to refill his bowl for seconds.
He really does act like a teenager who’s disgusted by their parents showing a little affection, but I wouldn’t have him any other way.
We both roll our eyes simultaneously, moving past him to sit at the barstools on the opposite side of the counter.
It’s late, but before we drag our asses up to bed to get one last good night’s sleep in before our final job begins, it’s nice to sit around and shoot the shit.
I never thought these days would be behind me, but as I’m looking over the horizon where that’s about to become a reality, I can’t help but soak up every single second.
Good friends, the best woman in the world, and a pretty great midnight snack will make this night impossible to forget.
* * *
Tonight’s the night.
After two days of local surveillance, everything is finally in place to make our move. Lex has been through the alarm and camera systems, and he’s confident he’ll be able to disable both while we sneak in through the back patio door.
For the last two nights, Mr. A. has spent his evenings alone after the staff leaves, sitting in the den smoking cigars and working at his desk.
That’s our striking point, the place where we’ll launch our attack, and we’ve been over the footage countless times so that we’ve got his habits memorized like the backs of our hands.
Fallon’s on edge, her knees bouncing restlessly beside me all day, but every time I try to encourage her to take a break, I’m met with a look that could absolutely split me in half.
Her hair is pulled back in a neat bun, and she’s dressed head-to-toe in a black bodysuit that hugs her curves so well, I’m about to slice this beard off with the nearest pair of scissors I can get my hands on.
Unfortunately, we’re all in business mode, so thoughts of peeling that outfit off her body will have to be held at bay until later.
With about two hours until we head to the stake out point, Fallon has begun gearing up, along with everyone else.
Fallon, Oliver, and myself are going in, while Max, Pepper, and Lex work on comms.
They’ll be updating us live on the outside, giving us a safe window to slip in and out, with a few extra minutes for the ultimate showdown in between.
When the plans are set, and we’re all in tactical gear, I take a second to pull Fallon aside, needing a quiet moment with her.
“You ready for this?” I press her into the wall, my lips placing gentle kisses on her forehead.
“I have no choice, we’re doing what needs to be done,” she answers, her stiff body and that deathly blank stare overtaking her usual soft features.
This act of revenge, the hunting of her target is finally coming to a head, and nothing can break that stubborn focus of hers.
All I can do is be beside her and help her navigate the side of things that keeps us from getting caught or killed in the process.
“Any idea how you’re going to do it, or what to say?” I ask, and her eyes flicker, a quick fleeting hint of emotion behind the stone mask she’s fronting.
“It’ll come to me in the moment. We need to get inside, first,” she says bleakly, the wall of armor quickly retreating back into place.
I know the mindset you need to change into to do a job like this, almost as if you’re switching personas, but I don’t like seeing how dark Fallon has to go to achieve that, like she’s been replaced by a woman I don’t recognize.
I understand the thought process, but it doesn’t feel right watching her slip so far under the abyss, somewhere I never wanted her to be.
“Hey, look at me. Don’t lose yourself in this, Bambi. You and me are about to have our one day , and every day after, so don’t you dare fucking leave me now. Please,” I say sternly, holding her shoulders tightly so she listens to my words, sending them straight through the shield in her mind.
“I’m fine, Ozzy. You and me.” She holds her ring finger out to mine, and I interlock our tattooed initials together.
It’s as good a promise as I think I’ll get out of her right now, but it’s enough to push me forward, turning on my own brand of anger needed to forge my way through the sweetest revenge I’ll ever taste.
It’s silent as we pile into the van, the heaviness of the kevlar vests, weapons and overall stakes of the job weighing us down, but not enough to cause concern. It’s new to Fallon, but feels cruelly familiar to me.
Max drives slow while Lex sits shotgun, covering our tracks as fast as we create them, ensuring we’re ghosts.
About a half mile from the property, right into the woods, Max pulls over, and it’s our time to move in on foot.
We all nod to each other, our way of going silent, and embarking on the rest of the mission in the dark.
We’ll hear them, but if we can help it, we won’t be speaking until we’re inside, and that’s not for at least another hour.
We move as a unit, ducking through the bushes and trees that border the property line. I lead, while Fallon sticks behind me, and Oliver trails a few steps behind, covering our backs.
It’s quiet, the sun finally setting behind the horizon and cloaking us in the cover of darkness. We’re perched in the final row of hedges before the patio, and our point of entry, when Lex comes in with the alert that the staff is leaving.
All three of us watch from a distance as the maid, chef, and security guards slowly exit the home, making their way to their respective vehicles.
The lights in the house begin to go out as the employees exit for the night, until all that’s left are the upper floor bedroom, and the den.
This is it, it’s now or never.
When I look to my left at Fallon, her eye contact is burning a hole through my mask and I don’t even need to ask, she’s more than ready.
Oliver nods slightly to my right, and I use my middle and pointer fingers to direct them forward, all of us beginning our tread to the door. We stay low, move quickly, and stick together in a tight formation.
Once we reach the patio, Lex confirms the system is down, but it’s the last time he’ll have eyes on us.
“Green light, out,” he says as I wrap my fingers around the stainless steel knob.
Lex better be right about this, but he swore up and down that there was no backup, and it’d be like a resident in the home simply unarmed the system.
I take a deep breath, twisting the metal until it opens, and to my relief, nothing happens.
There’s no alarm sounds, or raging lights that point straight at us, it’s as if this was normal, and we’re supposed to be here.
Instead of rejoicing, Fallon goes in first, weapon drawn in front of her while Oliver rests his hand on her lower back.
We practiced this a million times, clearing rooms as we walk together, so I take place in back, my hand on his shoulder pushing them forward.
Once we’re down the first hallway, it’s a left with no rooms in our path, and then straight through the doors.
We’re going slow, taking careful steps ensuring we don’t spook him to pull a weapon of his own before we get the chance to assert our dominance.
Each wall is covered with tasteless art pieces, accompanied by bouquets of fake flowers and family photos on end tables.
It looks like a basic setup used to sway clients, or flex his wealth on others, all the way down to the ugly runner carpet we follow to the door of the den.
We all pause, collecting our breaths and checking our surroundings before making the final breach, the one that makes our presence known.
I look at Fallon, and she’s steady, her hands aimed straight at the door, eyes on me as if to say let’s do this.
Oliver is like a caged animal waiting to be released, his hands itching to get on this guy for a while now.
With one flick of my wrist I give the green light, and Oliver slowly turns the knob, pushing the oak door open while Fallon enters first.
Everything after this is a blur, as my eyes are only on her, but it’s the battle of the lifetime, and I’ll be damned if we’re not the ones walking away with the win.
Bloody, battered and bruised be damned, as long as we’re all whole, I’ll be content.