Ozrik #2
The whole thing unsettled me. I knew nothing about Gale, whether he was straight or gay or bi or ace, and I wasn’t the type of person who sought relationships. Then why did I have an impulse to flirt? To make him smile. To get his muscles to relax for even a fraction of a second.
No. It was a stupid thought. My life was complicated enough without introducing that sort of mess.
Plus, when it came to baggage, I was practically a hoarder, and no one wanted or deserved the shit that came along with Ozrik Devereaux.
I was a one-man show, and unless I broke the chain that bound me to my mother, I would never be free.
Before he caught me staring, I rounded the house and walked far enough to be out of sight of the road, hidden in shadow, then I stuck my finger down my throat and forced those fucking pills back up before I really was sick.
By the time I returned to the car, Gale was beside it. He looked at me with concern that telegraphed how much he’d heard.
“Are you throwing up?” he asked.
“No.” I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and aimed for the trunk where I kept safe bottles of water. I dug one out and drank it down before locating a pack of gum among the mess of uncontaminated snacks I kept on hand.
Gale watched.
I slammed the trunk and sized him up. “Ready?”
He nodded, but getting in the car looked like the last thing he wanted to do.
Before I could aim for the driver’s door, something drew his attention. I followed his gaze as a dark form emerged from under the neighbor’s front porch and strutted across the lawn in my direction.
“Slickster! What are you doing here, baby girl?”
I crouched and petted her as she weaved through my legs and nuzzled my palm.
“Is that your cat?” Gale asked.
“Nah. She’s a stray, but we’re best buds.
I take care of her, and she takes care of me.
” I picked her up and scratched her ear, peppering her with kisses and butting our foreheads.
“You’re such a princess, aren’t you? Your timing sucks.
I was just leaving. Meet me at Noah’s, okay?
I’ll stop by the store and grab you a can of food. ”
She yowled as if she understood. When I put her down, she weaved between my legs before doing the same to Gale. For the first time all night, his shoulders came down from his ears. He loosened his grip on the camera and crouched to pet her.
“Her name’s Slickster?” he asked.
I chuckled. “No. Oil Slick. Slick, for short, and Slickster, because all cats need ten nicknames. It’s stupid. Her fur shines like a slick of oil, and she’s sneaky, so yeah. It stuck.”
A shy smile turned the corners of Gale’s mouth, and I soaked it up.
“Why not adopt her?”
“I plan to when I get my own place. If she wants to live with me. She’s nomadic. She might not like being contained.”
Gale stood and Slick, as though understanding we were leaving, vanished along the side of the house.
“Shall we?”
The cat had broken the ice, and Gale nodded, looking far less tense as he got in the car.
The drive to his place was quiet. Leaving town meant leaving light pollution behind. It was dark on the county roads. Scattered houses. Long stretches of farmland. A few stray barns. Pavement turned to gravel a mile out.
The only time Gale spoke was to direct me when to turn. The low tones of a country tune playing from the radio helped the passing time feel less awkward. I wasn’t sure what to say, and he didn’t seem inclined toward conversation.
We arrived in under ten minutes. His house sat at the end of a long gravel driveway.
I pulled to a stop behind a neon green four-door Jeep Wrangler and put the car into park.
“Nice Jeep.”
“Thanks.”
“Is it yours?”
“Yes. I’ll be paying it off for years, but I like it for when I camp.”
“You camp?”
“Sometimes.” He motioned to his camera bag. “Photography.”
“Right. Cool.”
Out front of a detached garage sat a battered F-150 next to a rusted Pontiac. Alongside the property was a fenced-off paddock and barn. In the distance, freshly planted fields and the silhouette of trees farther back. I couldn’t make out more.
Gale reached for the door handle.
I spoke before he got away, desperate for more time. “So, um. Olivia lives in town, huh?”
He paused but didn’t turn to face me. “Yes.”
Why did he sound subdued? “Cool. Where at?”
Gale seemed to be waiting for permission to leave. I didn’t know why I was striking up a conversation. His panic attack in the bathroom at CineVision wouldn’t leave me, and witnessing his discomfort over the past few hours, I was concerned. When he didn’t answer, I risked asking.
“I was wondering. At the studio, in the bathroom. You seemed upset, and—”
“Can we not talk about that?”
“Oh. Okay.” Sighing, I scanned the dark landscape. It was time to cut my losses. “Well, I hope you enjoyed your first chase. She didn’t produce, but that’s normal. We got close. Maybe next time.”
Gale didn’t speak, but he didn’t move to leave either.
“Stay safe on future chases. I may not be there to rescue you.”
Gale tilted his head, not quite looking back, but I got the sense he was checking to see if I was finished talking.
“Fuck it. Have a good night.” Why was I trying to keep him in the car anyway?
Gale didn’t wait to be told twice. He shouldered his way out and scrambled to his feet. He seemed about to slam the door before he thought better of it and ducked his head to glance inside. His face was mostly in shadow.
“Thank you… for the ride, and… for not letting me die.”
I chuckled, imagining his cheeks turning red with embarrassment. “Anytime, Gale.”
Our gazes held for a heartbeat before he nodded and closed the car door. He aimed for the house. I didn’t pull away as he climbed the porch steps one at a time. Gale paused at the top and glanced back, likely wondering what the fuck I was doing.
Good question. What was I doing?
But I heard it. Gale’s quiet thunder rumbled at a subsonic level, and my fingers twitched on the steering wheel as I remembered that spark of electricity.
This was stupid. Nothing made sense.
I threw the car in reverse and hit the gas, kicking up gravel as I backed up too fast. I was born to chase storms, sure, but I also knew when they were too dangerous, and it was time to tuck tail and run.