Ozrik
Vern drove with me to Tulsa. I didn’t miss the querying glances he tossed in my direction during long silences when I got lost in my head. The three-and-a-half-hour drive gave me too much time to think. My kiss-bruised lips were a neon sign that I’d been busy. Vern noticed everything.
I’d been quiet all morning, replaying the previous night with Gale to excess. I hadn’t had a make-out session like that since high school, and I didn’t care that it hadn’t ended in an orgasm. Something about Gale was different.
Vern might have been my best friend with whom I often shared about my hookups, but I hadn’t said a word, and he kept throwing me suspicious glances.
I didn’t trust him to keep his mouth shut, and I would not be responsible for outing Gale. I might have been a lot of things, but I respected a person’s right to come out when they were ready. Vern, being straight, didn’t always get it.
What I couldn’t wrap my head around was the unsettling attraction I felt toward the shy farm boy with the nervous eyes and gentle manner.
No matter how many times I tried to convince myself that my pursuit of Gale was solely for the privilege of taking his virginity so I could brag, the lie wasn’t convincing even me.
I was drawn to him long before I knew a thing about him.
Besides, who would I brag to? Although taking someone’s v-card might have been a feat I was proud of in high school, the novelty wore off after graduation.
Adopting a fuck ’em and forget ’em motto had become my preferred method of hooking up, but all my rules were getting tossed out the window with Gale Windrow.
He had imprinted himself into my mind, and I couldn’t ignore the way he made my skin come alive in his presence.
Whenever we were apart, a magnetic pull drew me to him. When I was in his vicinity, the ever-present current running between us strengthened, crackling and snapping and buzzing through my veins.
Fucking zap was right. Kissing him caused an electric spark that sent my heart out of rhythm like I’d been struck by lightning.
His nervousness and shyness brought out a protective urge that seemed entirely out of place considering I barely knew him, but it was there, nonetheless. Hot and alive. I liked listening to him talk about photography, but I liked it even more when I pulled a timid smile from him.
It wasn’t supposed to be like this. There wasn’t room in my fucked-up life for relationships.
My phone buzzed with an incoming text reminding me why.
We made it to the motel by ten. Lex and Noah had come in Black Bug. Elliott had to work and wouldn’t arrive until later that afternoon.
As I parked, Vern squinted from the windshield. “Is that Charles?”
“What? Where?”
I tore my gaze from the neon green Jeep parked a few rows away and looked where Vern pointed. Charles, three other people I didn’t recognize, and the Wind Riders were gathered outside the motel’s administration office.
“What the fuck is he doing here?” I asked.
“Ruining our lives. Olivia’s crew is here, too.”
“I see that.”
“Are we late?”
“No. Check-in isn’t until eleven. It’s only five past ten.”
“Glad the big studio splurged on us. This place looks like a fucking dump.”
The motel was the kind with exterior room entrances. They ran in a U-shaped pattern with the main administration office in the middle. Covered walkways protected the doors from the weather. Each room had a window air-conditioning unit. They stuck out like rusted teeth along the walkways.
We approached the gathered group. A charcoal sky with ominous clouds promising future storms hung above us. The air was unnaturally warm and heavy, but the cold front moving through threatened a drastic drop in temperature later that day. Hence the storm front.
I instantly picked Gale out of the crowd, but couldn’t catch his eye.
He stood apart from Olivia’s Wind Riders, leaning against a metal railing that separated us from a row of rooms. His hands were buried deep in his pockets, shoulders near his ears.
He wore plain jeans and a baby-blue hoodie that felt like overkill when the thermometer tipped eighty.
Was he purposefully avoiding my gaze? It felt intentional. His lips looked as abused as mine. How long until someone put two and two together?
“There you are. Finally,” Charles announced when Vern and I were within earshot. “Gather around.”
“I thought you said eleven.”
“I said nothing of the sort.” Charles scanned the group, his lips moving as he silently counted. “We’re missing someone.”
“Elliott will be here later.” Lex didn’t elaborate. We’d decided there was no need to get Charles’s nose out of joint before we had to. Elliott’s job and family came first, but Charles wouldn’t see it that way.
“Fine, fine.” Charles rubbed his hands together. “Here’s what’s happening. You’ll remember Becca and Arty from your initial interviews? Joining them is Hugh.” He motioned to the one guy I didn’t recognize. “They’re going to set you up with some extra cameras.”
“Extra cameras?” Olivia met my gaze as though curious if I knew anything about this.
I didn’t and frowned.
“Yes, ma’am. Ones that will continuously stream and record everything that’s happening via the studio. They’ll be installed inside each chase vehicle and in room nineteen B”—he motioned to an end unit—“which will be your base of operations while you’re in the area.”
“What are you talking about?” Lex asked. “We already have a camera set up in the bug.”
“Sure you do, but we want to install one that you can’t decide to shut off or edit at your pleasure.”
“What the hell? We haven’t edited shit. You told us not to, and we haven’t. You get every piece of raw, boring footage we record.” Jazz’s indignance matched the rest of the Wind Riders’.
I locked eyes with Noah, who mouthed, oops.
Charles crossed his arms and faced my team. “Unfortunately, that can’t be said for everyone.”
“What the hell, Ozrik?” Olivia chided. “You can’t follow a simple rule?”
“Shut up, Windrow. I don’t know what you’re talking about, Charles.”
“Yes, you do, and Dennis picked up on your little stunt and called it out.”
I pressed my lips together and exchanged glances with Lex, Vern, and Noah.
“To be fair,” Noah said, “the last batch of footage wasn’t edited.”
But only because we had run out of time due to the flooded road and downed power lines. That and my encounter with Gale in the Jeep had left me unsettled, and I had wanted to escape my team as quickly as possible once we were home.
Charles grinned. His entire focus was on me.
“Oh, I know. And it was golden. We need more footage like that to build a solid narrative. Our audience is entitled to an honest and pure look at what happens out there.” I didn’t like the malicious tone in his voice.
“But we don’t trust you to deliver anymore, so we’re taking over. ”
Panicked chatter followed his statement.
“What does that mean?” I asked.
Ignoring me, Charles spoke to Becca. “All four vehicles get a camera. Give up your keys, folks. They’re professional. No damage will be done.”
Arty approached with his hand out, but I refused to comply. “We aren’t taking my car on chases,” I said to Charles. “It doesn’t need a camera.”
“It’s getting one anyway. You agreed to a competition-style game, Devereaux. In fact, it was your idea. Signing that contract gives me every right. Your lives are mine, and nothing is sacred anymore. All the vehicles get cameras. Be happy I’m not putting one in your hotel rooms.”
“That’s an invasion of privacy,” Maggie said.
“You signed away your rights to privacy, and since we aren’t getting the footage we need, we’ll record our own.” Again, he smiled with an edge of something I didn’t like. “Keys. Now.”
So much for having the producer on our side. Charles was turning into a real asshole.
“Give him your keys, Ozrik,” Olivia snapped. “This is your fault.”
I gave up my keys and stole a glance at Gale, who handed his to Arty, appearing equally defeated. For a second, our gazes clashed, but he looked away before I could find a subtle means of acknowledging the previous night and all I couldn’t say.
With our privacy compromised, I wasn’t sure when or if we’d get a chance to talk.
Charles continued speaking, drawing my attention from Gale.
“We’ve rented six rooms for the week. Nineteen B is your official base of operations. We’ve cleared it the best we can and added two desks. Unpack your shit and try to get along. Or don’t.
“The last five rooms will be for sleeping, changing, and showering. That’s it. If I think you’re spending too much time hiding from the cameras, you will lose that privacy. Don’t test me. I’ve assigned two people to a room.”
Every person present expressed some form of protest.
“Assigning?”
“We’re sharing?”
“No fucking way.”
“Are you kidding?”
“Not happening.”
“Fuck this shit.”
“You can’t do that.”
Charles held up his hands for silence. “Bitch and moan all you want. It’s happening.
This is reality television, folks. Not a highly edited version of the Partridge Family.
If you continue to be dull, my dear friend Dennis will pull the plug before we get enough footage for one season, and all this will be for naught. ”
“I’m not sharing with some random guy I don’t know,” Maggie said. “That’s a sexual harassment lawsuit waiting to happen.”
“You wish.” Jazz snickered.
I had to wonder what was wrong with that guy.
Maggie threw her hands up. “Case in point, Charles, and he’s on my team.”
“Now, now. Calm down. There are no teams, and you need to stop thinking that way. You are ten contenders. The end.” Charles produced a piece of paper from his pocket. “Since we only have two women, we’ve obviously put Maggie and Olivia together.”
The girls shared a smug smile.
“Yep. The division is already fair,” Vern mumbled.
Jazz looked ready to blow a gasket. I couldn’t blame him. My back was up, and I was starting to regret this whole fucking show and its stupid contract. I had no idea why Charles suddenly felt the urge to take over, but I didn’t like it.