Magic or Madness (The Wreck Me Duet #1)

OZZY

Since I dropped Fallon off I’ve been driving aimlessly, trying to figure out how to navigate the balance between my life, and my newfound relationship with her.

I know what I am, what I’m capable of, and I couldn’t live with myself if she became involved in my criminal activities, or worse, turned into someone like me.

When she asked if I hurt someone, my heart dropped straight into my ass. In the past, I have, and in the future, I won’t hesitate to do what needs to be done just to protect Fallon’s perception of me.

My professional life, and our jobs, come first.

Sometimes, we have to get violent, but I don’t want that side of me to complicate what I’ve started in my personal life.

Something about her has me questioning my moral compass, which I’ve never done before, and I’m ready to do anything I can to protect Fallon from seeing the uglier sides of me.

She’s the light contrasting the darkness inside of me, and the night we spent together was phenomenal, better than I could’ve imagined. I find myself with my eyes glued to the clock, counting down the minutes until I can see her again, and she just left.

I filled her in on what I do, and how I make a living, and she barely flinched, but of course, I didn’t explain everything. She has enough information to understand the gist of it, and that’s further than I’ve ever gone with anyone.

Of course, I’m no fool, and that time will come eventually, but I don’t think I could possibly keep a single thing from her. Last night, our very first night together, I shared so many pieces of my past with her that I even surprised myself. She might just be everything I never realized I needed, and then some.

I was blown away by how good she was in bed, responding to my roughness with no hesitation, and I held back for her, knowing her inexperience might be a soft spot.

One glaring problem cast a shadow over our night, and if there’s one thing I will do, it’s find out who hurt her. I will rip them apart, limb by limb, until she’s gotten her pound of flesh. No girl cries about consent unless that option has been taken from her previously, and it broke my heart of stone into pieces, dying to exact the revenge that she deserves.

I will make it a point to ensure she’s comfortable with me every single time we’re together, just to show her how a real man treats a woman, and that she shouldn’t settle for anything less.

Fallon is the center of my universe already, and there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for her, including meeting her friends.

If I want to spend time with her, I have to make a good impression on her friends. I fully intend to turn up the charm and get them to accept the fact that I will be stealing their friend, often.

Overprotective friends aren’t new to me, Oliver and Lex take on that role, but I have a feeling those girls will give me a tough time.

Instead of waiting for them to decide if they hate me, I find the closest floral shop, opting to send flowers while Fallon’s at work. It’s risky, coming back to the scene of our job twice, and likely a third time later tonight, but it seems that everything is normal in the building. I’m let in by an older gentleman leaving, and he barely bats an eye at me as I carry a large vase full of flowers.

I’m hoping that the coast is clear, and I can slip in and out without being seen, but luck isn’t on my side.

One of the girls I recognize from the coffee shop is coming down the stairs, and her eyes meet mine for a split second before she looks away. Just when I think she doesn't remember me, I hear her footsteps stop, and she calls out to me.

“Hey. You’re Ozzy, aren’t you?” The blonde asks, looking me up and down.

“I am, are you Mick or Rae?” I counter, and she freezes as if she’s contemplating answering me.

“Mick. What are you doing here?” She crosses her arms defensively with a look of disgust on her face.

“Delivering flowers for Fallon.” I smile, but she isn’t having it, a scowl forming on her face faster than I can blink.

“You’re a stranger, chasing us down on the street, and then what, bringing Fallon back to your house for a one-night stand? Now, you’re stalking her while she’s at work, and planning to spend another night with her? I don’t trust you one bit,” she says, the anger ever-present in her voice.

I understand her concern. Fallon warned me how close they are, but her friends don’t realize that I’m ten times more protective, and would never let a single bad thing happen to Fallon, nor would I hurt her in the slightest. This girl doesn’t believe me, and it’d be a waste of time if I try to explain myself now, so this is just something that will have to be proven over time.

“I’ll just leave these upstairs,” I say, turning my back to the aggressive blonde, continuing my mission.

I find the third apartment on the third floor, and of course, it’s directly across the hall from the one we trashed last night.

What a coincidence.

In a rush to get away from the scene of the crime – literally – I drop the vase in front of the door, squeezing by Mick as I start down the stairs.

“When you open the card for Fallon tell her to text me. I left my number on the bottom,” I call out, and I hear her yelling at the other roommate in the distance.

I hop back into my truck and head back to the dealership, knowing the guys are going to be pissed that I missed the morning briefing. We just finished a job last night, so this is just a way for Max to feel powerful. Just as I suspected, they're all waiting on the couch, whiteboard perched at the front of the room, and all eyes glaring at me.

“Nice of you to join us, Oz. We have a job.” Journey is the first to scold me, but I roll my eyes at the sudden sense of punctuality.

We’ve never had rules before, so what’s different now?

They’re jealous, that’s what.

I’ve never brought a girl like Fallon around before, and I think they can tell how much I care about her, already. It was a far-fetched story to begin with, but when they saw how fucking stunning she is, and she hit them with her smart mouth, they realized what a diamond I found. Jealousy is an ugly color, that’s for certain.

“We just closed one yesterday, the ink on the invoice is probably still wet.” I shrug, not believing them, but when Oliver points at the board, there’s new writing on it.

“It’s discreet, more details after we accept, but has a huge payday,” Max details, showing off his bullet point notes on the board.

“Fill me in.” I flop onto the couch, turning my attention to the job and cutting off everything else in my mind.

At least I try to, when Lex leans over, whispering in my ear, “Dude, you fucking smell like sex.”

I immediately burst out laughing, which pisses Max off even more.

“Ozzy, we get it. You scored pussy last night, and from the sound of it, she was pretty good, but we have to work to survive, ya know? Fucking pay attention!” He yells, and everyone joins in on my laughter.

As much as we love Max, he’s hard to take seriously when he gets angry. Probably because he’s shorter than all of us, much skinnier, and his body resembles a teenager. He’s our nerd, and we love to remind him who the muscle is.

“Fuck it. You guys plan this shit.” Max storms off, slamming his door for dramatic effect.

“Who pissed in his cheerios?” Journey laughs, and everyone looks at me.

“I did nothing to him!” I hold my hands up in defense.

“He’s probably jealous of the bombshell you brought here last night,” Oliver chimes in, and I shoot him a look that could absolutely kill.

“You can all call her Fallon, and not look at her like you want to devour her, fucking perverts,” I say, ready to kick all of their asses for talking about my girl that way.

“I think I’ll stick with Cinderella.” Journey smiles, testing my patience with his shit-eating grin.

“No, the fuck you won’t. She’s mine, and you can respect her.” I look around at them, watching as they nod, taking my assertion seriously.

Just when I think it’s settled, Journey snickers to himself, and I lose my mind.

“What did you say?” I ask, my hand wrapping around the blade's handle in my pocket.

“When you get bored with her, I won't mind taking that for a spin,” he repeats, looking dead into my eyes, and I jump across the table, pulling my knife and holding it to Journey’s throat.

His eyes widen, and a smirk spreads across his face, almost like he’s daring me to actually do it.

Journey is older than all of us, usually acting in a fatherly role, but ever since we picked up Fallon, his attitude has been different, and I don’t like it one bit.

Something about Fallon has me ready to slice the throat of one of my oldest friends. I know should run in the opposite direction of something that makes me feel this much, this fast, but I’ve never felt more at peace.

Last night was only the beginning, like some sort of vow was created within us that we’ll both uphold. That’s how deeply I feel about her, and I trust my intuition that told me she was special the first time I saw her.

“Take it the fuck back, J,” I say slowly, not letting my grip on him go, but he just laughs, and I push the blade into his neck harder, pressing into his windpipe.

“Oz, let it go,” Lex warns, standing directly behind me.

“No. I said something, and I meant it. If he can’t show Fallon respect, we’re going to have a problem.” My heart is racing, and I feel nothing but anger running through my body.

“Alright, Ozzy, alright. Fallon is all yours. I won’t mess with you anymore,” Journey whispers against my blade, and I stare into his eyes before letting him go.

“See? All good here boys,” Oliver says, and I shake my head, not ready to end this.

I cock my fist, landing one good punch to the side of his jaw before backing away, reminding him how shit works around here.

“Ozzy, are you done?” Lex asks, and I gesture to Journey, making sure he understands that I’m not fucking around about this.

It’s not unusual for any of us to fight, as long as it ends with one clean punch that signals the drama is over. If a fistfight breaks out, it’s an all-or-nothing battle until someone taps out.

Journey doesn’t want it to come to that, especially knowing everyone would be on my side and rooting against him. His silence speaks for him, though, and he was only trying to get under my skin.

“Are we done here? There’s no actual job to plan.” I ask, looking around the room.

“Well Max left, so I guess so,” Journey says, rubbing the indent from my blade on his neck.

I don’t shake his hand or say the beef is done because, to me, it isn’t. Something tells me we’ll find ourselves in a position like this again. His words don’t come across as genuine, and I have a gut feeling that this will come around again.

Just as my anger starts to boil over, my phone rings and it’s a number I don’t recognize, but I’m holding onto hope that it’s Fallon.

“Hello?” I answer, annoyed with this inconvenient timing.

“Hi.” I hear a voice faintly whisper, and my body relaxes.

As if she were a magic potion, knowing exactly when I need her and how to calm me down, my Bambi comes through.

“Hi, Fallon.”

“I got your card and the flowers. Thank you,” she says softly, and I can hear the smile in her voice.

“Anything for you, my beautiful girl . So, Mick opened your card?” I ask, and she laughs, her warmth replacing the red-hot anger I was feeling seconds ago.

“Sorry about her. She’s judgmental for someone who has a roster of guys to rely on,” she says sarcastically, that feistiness jumping out, even over the phone.

“It’s okay. I had it rough here, too, but I don’t want to talk about me. How’s work?”

I listen as she explains her day so far, detailing her arrival at home up to the biker clients she’s been dealing with all morning. I could hear about the mundane parts of her day without a care in the world, as long as I hear her voice.

“Ozzy?” She says almost reluctantly, interrupting my distracting thoughts.

“Yes, Fallon?”

“I fucking miss you, is that normal?” She asks, and I rake my hands in my hair, unsure exactly how to categorize this, or what to say, so I decide to go with the truth.

“I don’t know, but I fucking miss you too. In a very consuming, frustrating way because all I want is you, here, in my arms,” I confess, and she counts the hours until we’re together again.

Six hours and twenty-three minutes.

I can survive that.

“I don’t have to work tomorrow,” she teases, and I can’t help but smile.

“You’re mine. All day,” I order, not even letting her finish the sentence.

“I’ll check my calendar,” she jokes, and holy shit, this woman makes me crazy.

Her sarcastic mouth and witty comebacks, so far, are my favorite things about her, and she keeps me on my toes.

“Fuck your calendar. Be with Ozzy is written on every single square, until the end of time, understand, Bambi?”

“It says that? Wow, how lucky for us,” she quips, and my mind wanders to how we spent the night in each other's arms.

Her body pressed against mine, the warmth radiating off her, and the vulnerability in her words that cemented my obsession with her.

My tiny, smart-mouthed brat with a heart of gold and an addictive body.

My beautiful girl.

“Let me see everything you hide from the world, Fallon, and I’ll do the same for you,” I whisper, letting the soft side I’ve reserved for her show, even if only slightly.

“I’ll give you everything,” she says, and my heart nearly explodes with joy.

We’re really doing this.

Not even twenty-four hours together, and we’re making promises that would send any sane person running for the hills. Fallon and I are so magnetic, it’s fucking obnoxious, and I love every second of my life since she gave me a moment of her time.

“I have to get back. I’ll see you in six hours and … fifteen minutes?” She whispers as I start to hear chatter in the background.

“I’ll see you soon, Bambi,” I say softly, hanging up the phone, and my mood has completely changed since I came into the bathroom.

I no longer have the urge to wrangle Journey’s throat with my bare hands. All I can think about is Fallon, our promises, and our mutually destructive obsession.

It’s been the longest quarter of a day in my life, but finally, I’m waiting outside of the body shop, and Fallon is walking toward my truck.

Her purple hair flows down her back in waves, and she’s wearing a black t-shirt with black leggings to match. She looks absolutely delectable, and she’s coming straight to me.

“Hi, my beautiful girl .” I open the passenger door, smiling down at her as I help her up.

I lightly wrap my arms around her waist, pressing a kiss to her forehead and inhaling that unmistakable vanilla perfume.

“Hi, Ozzy,” she purrs, securing her arms around my neck and I’m melting, barely able to resist kissing those perfectly pink lips.

“Dinner, and then a showdown with your roommates?” I ask, tilting her chin to meet my eyes.

“You read my mind. What are you in the mood for?”

I bite my lip, trailing my hand around her jawline, and her body tenses with my touch.

“Well, I know what I want for dessert.”

“Dessert before dinner? That’s a crime, my love,” she smiles, and my heart skips a beat at the sentiment.

“ Love ?” I ask, and she shrugs, unbothered by the slip of her tongue.

“Positive thinking.” She reaches up, kissing my cheek, but I pull away from her, knowing that if I don’t, I’ll be stuck in this spot at her mercy.

Once I slip into the driver’s seat, I drive us toward a sandwich shop, which I now know is Fallon’s favorite food. Any meat on a roll counts as a sandwich in her book, and she claims she could eat them for the rest of her life.

“I have an idea for a restaurant, actually. It’s buffet style, with all the meats, bread, cheeses, and toppings you desire, and at the end, you choose from an array of chips. It completes your sandwich, and it would be called Chip In , because you put chips in the sandwich,” she explains passionately, her face lighting up as she details her dream restaurant.

She adds emphasis to her words, getting her point across in a way that accentuates her pitch. She’s talking so quickly that I can barely keep up, but I could listen to the inner workings of her mind all day, every day.

“I love it, Bambi. One day, we’ll make it a reality.” I smile, and she slides across the bench, tucking under my arm as I drive.

“What’s something you’re passionate about, Ozzy?” She wonders, looking up at me with those dark, doe-like eyes.

I take a moment to reflect on her question, scrounging my brain for an inkling of something that I care about, besides work, my brothers, and her.

Finally, something pops into my mind, and I know she’s going to make fun of me, but fuck it , I already promised her I’d tell her anything she wanted to know.

“My guilty pleasure is reality TV. Specifically, the girls who got pregnant at sixteen, and now we watch their lives with their kids. When I can’t sleep, I watch reruns of that show, fascinated by them, and how it all changed their lives,” I confess, and she bites her lip, trying to conceal her smile.

“You like Teen Mom ?” She asks, a playful tone in her voice, and I nod sheepishly.

“That’s the name of it, yes. I used to watch it with someone who isn’t here anymore, so it makes me feel closer to her, I guess,” I say slowly, hating how quickly this topic turned into something darker.

“That’s beautiful, Ozzy. I like that show, too.” She rubs my arm gently, not pressing me for more details.

I know one day I’ll have to tell her the truth about Masha, and what she meant to me – to all of us – but I admit, I hope it’s a while before I do. Those memories already haunt my dreams and I hate reliving them when I’m awake.

“What’s something you think about way more than you should?” I ask her, wrapping my arm tighter around her shoulder.

“Greek mythology,” she answers quickly, without even a second thought.

I laugh hysterically, almost insensitively, but it’s not anything close to what I was expecting, and she scrambles trying to explain herself.

“That’s probably the last thing I’d ever guess,” I say, and she sits up, looking into my eyes.

Nothing phases Fallon, even when I’m making light out of something she’s sharing with me, she takes it in stride. It's almost like there’s a thick layer of skin protecting her from anything that would bother almost anyone else.

“It’s fascinating. All the powers they allegedly had, their complex relationships, oh, I could study it endlessly. Have you heard the story of Poseidon?”

“I can’t say that I have, Bambi,” I laugh, and her eyes light up again, a small smile creeping across her face.

Clearly, she loves to talk about the fantasies that go on in her head, or share things she’s passionate about, and I’m more than happy to be her audience.

“He was the God of the Sea. The story, The Odyssey , is about Odysseus and his crew, who dealt directly with Poseidon. Anyway, that’s the first thing I thought when I saw you, that you looked like a God of the Sea .” She bites her lip, her cheeks flushed pink as she describes her first thoughts of me.

“You thought I looked like a God?” I ask, swiping the hair out of her eyes.

“Yes. Still do, my handsome Greek God .” She smiles, and it’s the brightest expression of excitement I’ve ever seen on someone's face.

“I’ll be your God, Bambi,” I tease, cupping her cheek, and bringing her lips to mine.

She scoots closer to me, and I pull her onto my lap, her ass pressing against the steering wheel as I part her lips with my tongue. She tangles her hands in my hair, moaning into my mouth, and I squeeze her hips, grinding her against the growing erection in my jeans.

I bite her lip, tugging it softly, which makes her moan again, and I tear my lips off hers, trailing gentle kisses down her jaw, and over the purple marks I left on her neck last night. She’s marked as mine , and there’s nothing sexier than a woman who dons the love bites of her man.

“Ozzy,” she groans, rolling her hips on me once again, but the rumble in her stomach is enough to break up the moment.

“Let’s get you some food, my beautiful girl, ” I whisper against her collarbone as she reluctantly climbs off me.

She fixes my hair in the places she tangled it, peppering soft kisses on my nose, and her touch is addictive, something I never thought would be possible with another person. I take her hand, leading her into the restaurant and protecting her as we walk through the doors. If there’s one thing I learned, it’s to always keep your guard up, and when it comes to Fallon, I’ll always be on alert. Nobody will so much as breathe in her direction when she’s with me.

We both order our meals, and I watch as her eyes light up when the food comes to our table.

She wasn’t kidding, she doesn’t mess around when it comes to sandwiches, and she ordered what she calls her absolute favorite: a buffalo chicken with lettuce and an ungodly amount of pickles.

Everything new I’ve learned about her in the last hour is stored in my brain, a space that I specifically cleared out to remember every single detail she shares. I want to surprise her with her favorite things, or learn a few facts about the topics she’s obsessed with, even if that includes learning about Greek mythology.

“Tell me more about what goes on inside that pretty head of yours, Bambi,” I say between bites, and she mulls it over for a few seconds.

“Well, I’m really good at math. Like, at all times, equations are going through my head. I can relate anything to numbers,” she answers, and I cock my head in disbelief.

“Really? You don’t seem like the math nerd type.” I laugh, and she shoots me a dirty look while sipping her diet soda.

“Excuse you, being smart does not mean you’re a nerd.” I raise my hands in defense, slightly afraid of the sternness in her tone, and in turn, apologize for calling her a nerd.

“Come on, Bambi. Let’s tackle your friends so I can spend the rest of the night with you,” I say, and she blushes, cleaning the table for us.

“They’re so mad at me for staying with you, this might be the worst idea ever,” she confesses, linking her hand in mine while we walk across the parking lot.

The sun is beginning to set, the darkened clouds taking over the sky with only a few streaks of pink to signal the end of another day. Thankfully, tomorrow, I’ll be waking up beside the most beautiful girl in the world, again.

“We’ve got this, Fallon. You and I? We’re magnetic. They’ll understand once they see us together,” I tell her, which only slightly eases the tension in her body.

I keep my hand on her thigh the entire ride back to her apartment, listening as she sings along with the radio. It’s awful, but also the most spectacular thing I’ve ever heard. Instead of being awkward, hiding the true parts of ourselves and being reserved around each other, we’ve taken the road less traveled, opting to show everything all at once.

When we pull up to her apartment building, her demeanor changes, as if she’s switching into defense mode.

“Hey, Bambi, look at me. We’ve got this okay? If they don’t like me, that’s fine, but nothing will keep me from you. I promise,” I say gently, holding her by the waist while she stands on her tiptoes to reach my lips.

“Let’s do this, my Greek God .”

“You’re a dork, Fallon.” I smile, and she bumps me with her hip as we enter through the lobby door.

“You’re the only one who knows that,” she laughs, and I take her hand in mine, guiding us up the stairs to her apartment.

After my encounter with her friend this morning, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t nervous to face both of her roommates. But I’m confident in what Fallon and I are building, especially after learning new things about how her mind works, and noticing the small details about her.

We walk into her apartment, hand-in-hand, and I’m in the center of her world now.