47. Ozzy
FORTY-SEVEN
ozzy
Levi Wallace is alive.
And well.
My blood burns in my veins as it pumps furiously and methodically throughout my body.
She lied.
She played us all into thinking she was grieving and going through the motions. I brought Reeve back for her, not only because of the child she once held but because she needed him. His stupid, empathic self would, eventually, pull her out of the drought of feelings she was experiencing and back to what she used to be.
Maybe Torin was right all along.
However, he hasn’t stopped loving her, which proves he’s an idiot.
She lied.
That’s really all that matters here.
I watched this girl from afar and every move she made. I saw the way she looked at Levi and how they moved together.
A unit.
A Bonnie and Clyde kinda thing.
There’s no room for any of us there, and it stings.
It hurts.
It fucking burns.
All the thoughts and dare I mention, dreams, I had went up in smoke when I discovered Wallace breathing behind the wheel of that car.
She wouldn’t get behind anyone driving but him.
It was obvious.
Fuck his big-ass shoulders and the white mask he thought was going to keep his identity a secret.
It was the way Bay moved with him when they pulled Lorenzo out of the SUV and into the back of theirs. The way he stood too close. The trust she had that she doesn’t give out to just anyone.
Are they going to use him as a weapon?
Did they honestly think I wasn’t going to find out?
I don’t know what to do, but I’m angry, and I don’t like the feeling. I don’t enjoy how it makes me feel vulnerable and edgy.
It’s what Vivian did.
It’s how I landed where I did.
It’s exactly what took some of my life away because I didn’t see what was right in front of me for what it was or who she was.
Bay Astor is just as good of an actress as Vivian was, manipulating me into a role that would protect her when she needed it.
She really should watch every edge of her life and all the dark corners surrounding it.
Because I’m one of them.
And not even Juice or Hot Rod—after they escorted her back to her house—saw me coming.
Waiting.
It’s where Wallace is too comfortable, and Bay is defenseless. The two of them are too trusting in the sense that South Shore is safe and no harm can come.
I’m the exception.
Matteo may have slithered in, but he got caught.
I don’t.
I haven’t yet.
Until I want to.
Patiently waiting on even breaths, I want Bay to roam down the hallway from the kitchen before I make my move.
I’m at ease in the dark.
Jumping Bay and shoving her against the wall with a breathless gasp is as rewarding as calling her out for her bullshit.
I don’t believe her anymore.
I don’t need to.
Touching her, with my forearm pressed against her throat, doesn’t make me recoil in mixed and confusing feelings. Not when violence is pumping faithfully through every nerve ending of my frame and mindset.
This isn’t puppy love or hopes of what things could be.
I’d call it a fatal attraction in groves.
“What are you doing ?” Bay has the balls to snap at me, her fingers wrapping around my skin in an attempt to get me to let go or ease up. “Oz?—”
“What’s your play?” I grumble, not loosening my hold but not entirely sure what I’m going to do.
I can’t kill her.
Not before I speak with my brothers.
They have to know, and this isn’t something I can hide from them because it’s too dangerous.
“What are you talking about?” she solicits evenly. “What’s wrong?—”
“Levi Wallace is alive ,” I sneer, driving my forearm deeper into her throat and feeling the soft swallow of guilt against my bone. “So, what’s the play ?”
She doesn’t answer me right away, which sets my whole world on fire.
I wanted nothing more than to trust her and become open.
I thought, maybe, there was a chance things could be different.
It’s what I think about before I go to sleep, and she’s the first thought that enters my brain when I awaken. She’s overtaken my mind, and not in the best places, making me see blindly instead of clearly.
Bay slowly rocks her head. “There’s no play—” I shove my arm so deep into her windpipe she chokes off an exhale. “Ozzy, no .”
“You lied . And I protected you.”
“Not like that.” She tries to rock her head back and forth, but she doesn’t have much space. “It’s not what you’re thinking.”
“You don’t know what I’m thinking,” I leer forcefully. “And I don’t like what you did.”
She taps my arm as if that’s going to get her some relief, but she’s wrong. Bay Astor is like everyone else. “I can’t breathe.”
“ Good .”
“Ozzy,” she croaks. “Let me fuckin’ explain .”
“No.”
“You can’t convict me without a hearing,” she shoots back, still thumping at my arm. “That’s not how it works.”
“It’s how I work.”
I swear a small scoff leaves her lips despite my physical threat, but I don’t manage my annoyance any differently. I acted on impulse, and that’s not something I do.
I fucked up.
“You’ve got…ten seconds…to let me go,” she gets out even though it’s a rasp. “Or I’ll?—”
“Go ahead,” I challenge, already awaiting her knee to my balls. It’s the only move she has. “Do what you need to do.”
“Ozzy…” It’s my last warning.
The last opportunity she’s going to give me until this goes south.
It might even be the last time she allows me in this house, to be with her, to call me her husband, all of that.
But she lied.
She lied to me.
And I can’t handle that.
Her heel comes down and strikes me in my foot. However, steel-toed boots come in handy not just for construction sites but fights.
Realizing her failed attempt, Bay doesn’t surprise me when her leg comes up to knock me between my legs, but I’m faster.
I’m already positioned to where she can’t land her shot, but I don’t anticipate her dropping her weight against my forearm, forcing me closer to keep her upright with the weight I need to place down, and that’s when she lands a fist in my ribs.
I feel the brunt of it, but I’m used to it. It doesn’t have me easing up on her throat any less but squeezing harder.
In the darkness, I can’t see much of her face, but I hear her choke. Her fingernails dig mercilessly into my forearm with one hand, but she keeps the other free. Just to use against me when she slaps me hard in the face.
But she doesn’t stop there.
Instead of nailing me in the balls again, she wedges her leg between our bodies, places one of her heels on my gut, and launches me backward, releasing my hold on her throat.
With a few steps, I stumble, and when I’m about to regain my position, Bay literally jumps me.
With her thighs wrapped snugly around my waist, her forehead slammed into mine, causing me to back up one more step with her full weight on me.
Her fist connects with the side of my fucking neck, and that’s when I pivot and slam her into the adjoining drywall to get somewhat of an upper hand on the situation.
She bats my hand away when I make another go for her throat, thrusting her head forward again, but I’m able to dodge another blast.
Her fingers latch around mine instead, squeezing at said body part to achieve the upper hand.
Bay doesn’t squeeze hard.
It’s more like a signal to stop my bullshit once and for all.
And I’m not entirely done making my point.
“Levi wanted to stay undercover to get to Matteo,” Bay blurts out before I can act. “He thought that, if he were dead, it would make him act carelessly.”
“You buried him.”
“I didn’t know he was alive until that day. I truly thought he was dead.”
She’s lying.
“The day I went to the garage to grab his car…before the funeral. He came to me. You guys weren’t there.”
We weren’t.
Cairo told me to back off, so I did.
“He asked me to keep it a secret…and that’s what I did.”
She says it so confidently and loyally that I’m on the fence about being annoyed and empathic.
It’s Levi Wallace.
I’ve always known what he means to her. It’s a bit puzzling how they haven’t broken out of the friend zone, because I see how he looks at her. I know she pushes his buttons.
Shaking my head, I go to place her down because, really, what the fuck was I going to do, but she tightens her thighs around me.
“Ozzy, you saw me,” she mutters through the dark. “I was a wreck. I couldn’t fake that. He was gone to me. I killed Nessa over the shit. I never would have…”
I don’t know all the details, nor did I see the photo she sent to De Leon, but I know devastation when I see it.
I’m fully aware of every emotion she has.
That’s why you didn’t see her cry at the funeral.
She did before.
She suddenly stopped, and you didn’t look further into it.
“He asked me not to say anything,” Bay says evenly. “I had to step up as Queen of South Shore, even though I didn’t want to, and make it look real. Nothing has changed other than that. I gave Torin the Titan seat. I’m in this with you.”
I’m not entirely sure how I didn’t see this.
The Nameless are better at holding shit a secret than I gave them credit for. I was aware they were decent, but I’m wondering how many of them know.
Probably not many. I wouldn’t pass that along to anyone but a trusted few.
Hot Rod and Juice.
“I told you I was never leaving you,” she whispers. “I meant it. I sliced my finger for you. I did what you wanted. I came for you because I care.”
And she proved that tonight.
All hell broke loose in that warehouse when random gunshots sounded outside.
The Nameless shot at the dudes holding the rocket launchers, taking them down too easily, which was embarrassing for Ramsey or Matteo—whoever the men belong to—and I rushed in to grab Lorenzo.
I fought off as many men as I could before I was outnumbered and got ambushed.
Tied.
Held hostage until Bay shot the driver.
For me.
“Allowing them to take you would’ve been the easiest option for me if I wasn’t in this with you. This isn’t a trick, I swear on South Shore. I swear on my dad’s grave—everything. I didn’t mean to hurt you. That was never my intention. I was caught between my loyalty to Levi and you?—”
“ Stop .”
I don’t want to hear it.
I don’t know what to do with it.
“Then I need you to use words,” she whispers softly. “Tell me what you’re feeling.” No. “How upset are you with me?”
“I’m not.”
I could almost forgive her for being faithful to Wallace. If he was within our group, maybe. But he’s not.
He’s on the other side of the line.
Her side.
I see movement from my peripheral and Bay raising her hand to me. It’s a silent peace treaty, and as much as I don’t want to be standing here anymore, I can’t leave things how they are.
“I’m sorry,” she says. “I would’ve told you if I could.”
With shaky hands, I grip her hips to place her down, but she squeezes me to her again. Her thick thighs wrapped around me send equal parts of nervousness and curiosity in my veins.
What would she do if I went lower?
If I stepped closer so she could feel my cock hardening against her cunt?
“Don’t,” she orders gently. “Don’t overthink it.”
That’s all I do.
It doesn’t matter if I think she’s with or against us; Bay Astor holds too much power. I’m not entirely sure if she’s aware of it, but Vivian was.
Her fingers unwrap around my throat, and she drops them to her sides. “Go ahead, husband. Do what you need to do…but don’t lose the space.”
“Why?” I croak out, feeling my anger settling.
“Because this is the closest we’ve ever been. Without me getting shot at.”
I didn’t think she’d realize something like that.
Levi’s first thought isn’t to kill my brothers. He was too busy ensuring Emilio didn’t sink his claws too deep into her.
But now that he’s gone, I wonder if Matteo De Leon is his only target.
Getting rid of all of us makes his life a hundred times easier in the grand scheme of things.
Nonetheless, I’m not sure Bay would give the green light.
I don’t think she would.
My chest tightens, doing the only thing I know how, and lifting my hand for her to take. Her palm falls to mine in the next second, and we remain there until my skin begins to tingle, and the skin-to-skin contact is almost unbearable.
I go to drop my hand, but Bay laces her fingers with mine, and my whole body flinches with volts of what feels like electricity. “You’re always going to be a choice. You’re always going to be something no one else is going to be.”
I look up at her, wishing I could see more of her face in the shadowy garage but at the same time, glad she can’t possibly see the inner panic written all over my face.
“Right, husband ?”
My nose wrinkles a bit because I’ve never allowed my head to go that far, and what that title could do to me.
How chest to chest—even though I’ve had her in my arms twice before—it would be on purpose and intimate if I inched forward just a bit more.
I’m not built for that.
“Maybe one day,” she emits, letting go of me, and I don’t understand what idea is in her head.
Why it matters.
Why, now, it’s in my head, and I want it.
I want to be her husband.
How would it feel to openly touch her without consequence or impeding thoughts of betrayal? When or will it ever stop?
“Let me make you a sandwich,” Bay says gently. “And we can watch Bridgerton together.” I don’t know what the hell that is, but she releases me from her hold as I help her gently to her feet, but she doesn’t move from against the wall. “If you need to tell them, go ahead. I’m not going to ask you to do otherwise. I trust you with what you want to do and how you want to handle this.”
Then she slips from between me and the drywall, and I faithfully follow her to the kitchen anyway.