69. Bay
SIXTY-NINE
bay
I’m honestly in a daze watching Ozzy pace the room back and forth like a caged animal for fuck knows how long.
I don’t think he fully realized how big of a deal it was when he shoved his cock in my mouth and demanded I swallow him. He just owned me in some silent, strong way that made me want him to punish me however he saw fit.
With Cairo, it’s always a power struggle. Sure, he wins and shit—in his eyes—because he gets to do what he wants.
However, I like to watch him lose control over his serious and bossy nature when he attempts to lay down the law.
So, who is winning now?
However, with Ozzy, I want to be told what I can and can’t do while he’s taking everything how he wants and can control. I’m not going to lie, I’d also like to see what I can get away with as well.
Obviously, I’ve never seen him lose his cool, but he can do it any day if I get to watch his face scrunch and battle with the inner demons he faces.
I mean, I, Bay Astor, sucked off Ozzy Ryland in a dirty basement while we’re kidnapped and probably in for a night of hell.
I wonder how many females can say that?
The answer better be none, or I’ll dig Vivian Muncy up and beat the shit out of her.
I’m pondering how I can defy him without getting myself killed when the door to the room suddenly opens, and Ozzy’s on his heels within seconds.
He throws a sucker punch at the first asshole who strides in, bringing a throng of men at his heels, shoving Oz back and farther into the room before the scene breaks out into a brawl.
My husband versus at least four men before my ass slides off the desk and joins in on the fun.
My fist lands into the back of the head of some short dude who appears to weigh less than me. He bows forward before I hit him again, hoping I hit a spot that counts him out of the fight so I can head to someone else.
However, I’m swooped up in the next second, feet hanging off the ground as someone lifts and pulls me away.
My heel connects with a shin bone, but it does nothing to give me slack.
Thrusting my head back, I slam into whoever’s chin, and I’m rewarded with a sharp exhale through his teeth.
I’m immediately dropped to my feet before I’m spun around and come face-to-face with the big dude from earlier with all the tattoos and mean muscle.
“ Stop being a motherfuckin’ bitch,” he roars out, clutching my biceps with inflamed annoyance. The pads of his fingers are going to leave a bruise, but I’m not listening enough to care.
“Fuck off .” I slam my foot into his, but fuck this guy, he’s just as big as Levi, if not a tad bigger.
Together, they’d both have push-up competitions and weight-offs or whatever. The fuck do I know about working out?
“Do you want to die ?” he leers through clenched teeth. “Settle the hell down.”
Is he for real?
“Right,” I scoff haughtily because he’s not going to coo me into thinking he has my best interest at heart right now. “Because I’m going to chill out with the guy who fuckin’ kidnapped me in the middle of the woods .”
“You’re being fuckin’ dramatic?—”
“Hey,” another male voice cuts in. “He’s ready.”
I still feel the scuffling of feet and the grunts of men as I steal a glimpse over my shoulder, locating Ozzy still going at it with three dudes.
“Let him go,” I order through clenched teeth. “You don’t need him.”
“We don’t make the rules,” is the answer I get before I’m turned around and shoved in the direction of the door.
My focus is locked on Ozzy as he plows into some guy’s face, and then mimics those actions to another.
But when I make it another foot toward the exit, he’s on me like flies on shit.
In the most romantic as fuck way.
Somehow getting between all three guys, Ozzy is at my side in seconds before he’s yanking me away and plowing his fists into the delusional nutcase who helped get me down here in the first place.
Dumbass.
If he didn’t learn before when Ozzy and I were double-teaming him earlier, we’re not going quietly.
And we sure as hell aren’t taking any orders from people we don’t know.
“Hold on, Romeo,” the second man’s voice coos before the hammer of a gun clicks through the space. “You hit him again, I’m putting you down.”
“Fuckin’ cocksuckin’ bitch ,” Passenger Prick complains, running his tatted fingers along his jawline. “You hit me again, and I’m breaking something on you.”
I’m not surprised when Ozzy doesn’t test out the theory, but he keeps extremely close to me. So close our biceps brush against each other’s, and my stupid brain locks faithfully to that.
“Now, Romeo,” dude number two emits, earning my attention. He’s new; I’ve never seen him before, but he’s cool and collected like he has this scenario all figured out. “We’re taking her for a minute?—”
Ozzy stands in front of me, pushing the idea out the window.
“Relax, my guy. She’ll be fine.”
Hooking my finger between the loop of Ozzy’s jeans, I feel a breeze through the open doorway and start easing us toward it as inconspicuous as possible. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“You are,” Passenger Prick retorts sharply. “I’m not dealin’ with you for another second.”
“Not without him,” I deadpan.
“He ain’t comin’,” the other guy responds matter-of-factly. “And you’re not handing out orders. Those have already been given.”
“I don’t think you heard me…” I take another small step toward the door, and Ozzy comes with me. “I’m not leaving him. And he’s not leaving me.”
Passenger Prick scowls at me. “Do you think you’re in any position to tell me anything?”
No.
However, it still doesn’t stop the fact it’s the way I want it to be.
“You’ve got fifteen seconds to say goodbye to each other before I shoot him,” the second guy claims. “Try me.”
That’s shit-all for time, and we’re not going to win this.
I’m not betting on it, either.
We’re getting separated and that’s that.
“Oz,” I whisper, tugging on his jeans to get him to turn around for me. “Look and listen to me.”
He pivots on his heels, towering over me in all his tortured beauty, and honestly, it takes my breath away.
All of him does.
Those dark blue eyes center on me, but he doesn’t look happy.
In fact, he appears just as pissed as he was when I didn’t leave when he told me.
“Stay put,” I order. “And I’ll be back for you?—”
“No,” he retorts gruffly, but I see him swallow once, and it alludes he’s just as scared as me, because…I can’t promise him anything, really.
I can only try.
I don’t know what’s going to happen the moment I step outside this room. And I’m not looking forward to finding out, either.
Though, I have a feeling.
This may be the last time I see Ozzy.
I might walk out of here, face off with Ramsey, and be on the wrong side of a bullet.
It could be the end me.
And he’d never know how much he truly means to me and my family.
“I owe you everything,” I mutter. “Honestly, you’ve saved me?—”
“ Stop ,” he whispers, and instead of holding up a comforting palm, his fingers brush along mine before I latch onto his index and middle with two digits. “Please…”
“We don’t have a choice,” I whisper, hot tears burning my eyes. “I don’t want to leave you. I want to stay with you…but we both know they’re never going to let that happen. And if we keep fighting, they’re going to shoot you and still drag me out of here. So, you’re going to do something for me, okay?”
He blinks before he gives me a curt but hesitant nod.
“You’re going to get out of this room. And you’re going to do one of two things. If I’m gone, you’re going to find Torin. You’re going to get him out of here.”
“No.”
“ That’s what you’re going to do, or we’re both going to be pried away from each other in the next few seconds. Because I won’t leave unless you promise me, Oz.” I give his fingers a little squeeze. “Please...” He averts his gaze to his right, but I continue, “If you think I’m still alive…come for me. And kill them all.”
His blue eyes slice back over to mine, and it’s like waving bait in front of a hungry shark. My husband is triggered by blood and violence if the situation calls for it, and I just piqued his fancy with the thought.
“Promise me,” I urge as I see the guy with the gun step forward to claim me from this room. “I’ll do everything I can to come back to you. I want to come back to you. You don’t know how much.”
His fingers tighten around mine, and I’m in awe at how he’s still holding them, even though the time really doesn’t call for it.
“I’m taking that as a yes,” I surmise quietly. “When I get back, we’ll go home and sit on the couch. I’ll make you watch some stupid movie with me. We’ll touch palms and do all our cool shit.” I try to smile at him, but it falls flat. “You’re not done with me.”
“Alright,” Passenger Prick chimes in, irritated. “Let’s go.”
His arm lifts, probably to push me back, but I save myself from having to semi-calm Ozzy down again by saying with a glare, “If you touch me, he’ll kill you. Save yourself the trouble, I got it.”
“Then fuckin’ move ,” he clips out, glowering back at me. “Fuckin’ Christ.”
Stealing one last look at Ozzy, I try my best to smile again under the dire circumstances.
I wish we could do more.
I wish I had tried harder.
I wish I had known him longer.
Regardless, those wants aren’t what we need right now, so I opt for a sappy one-liner I hope I can expand on later.
“Do it,” I deadpan, giving him a wink before stepping out of his gentle hold and pivoting out of the room.
I can feel his eyes are on me the whole time before I hear the door slam shut behind us with a heartbreaking thud.
He’ll get out .
I know he will.
Being out of his sight will be fuel enough to murder every single motherfucker in this place.
That’s the only way I’m going to stay alive.
Unless fate doesn’t throw one of those bullets in my head.