Magic or Madness (The Wreck Me Duet #1)

FALLON

I slip my key into the door, trying to stay as quiet as a mouse. It’s well past midnight, and I’m sneaking into my own apartment like a teenager who jumped out the window when her parents fell asleep.

I’m only here for clean clothes, and selfishly avoiding Mick and Rae like the plague.

I’ve slept at Ozzy’s for a week straight and this is my first time coming back to the apartment since the morning he made coffee and breakfast.

My roommates are pissed at me, for good reason, but I don’t feel like facing a firing squad right now. I’ve taken the brunt of their anger through our group chat, and Mick has expressed her concerns loud and clear. Rae, on the other hand, has tried to take a more gentle approach by suggesting I sleep at home a few nights a week and take a break from Ozzy every once in a while.

They don’t understand the connection that Ozzy and I share, we can’t stand to be apart, and I love every second I spend with him. I’ve immersed myself in his world, and I have no intentions of leaving him alone.

My friends care about me and I appreciate that they’re worried, but I am capable of making my own decisions, and right now, I’m choosing to be with the man who makes me feel alive .

In the last week, he’s shown me a different side of life that I never knew I was missing. There’s more to this world than working a mediocre job and gossiping with friends, and it’s fucking exhilarating.

I never thought I’d be the girl riding on the back of a motorcycle, but when Ozzy slipped the helmet on me, and the vibration consumed my body, I was completely addicted.

There’s a band of brothers on the other side of town, living out of an old car dealership, making the best out of what they have, and that’s where I belong.

After I taught them how to gamble they accepted me, letting me tag along on a few scouting missions around town and serving as their tour guide.

I’m building friendships with all of them, gaining trust, and growing my relationship with Ozzy all at once.

Just as I finish shoving the majority of my clothes into two large duffel bags, a light flicks on, and I’ve been caught.

“Seriously, Fallon? You’re sneaking in and out like a child?” Mick says, standing with her hands on her hips.

I roll my eyes and focus on the last few things I came for, not looking for a fight.

“Fallon, you don’t have to avoid us, honey,” Rae chimes in, playing the good cop role.

“Listen, I know you both have your issues with Ozzy, and the fact that I’ve been spending so much time with him, but I’m just here for clothes. I don’t want to keep having the same conversations over and over.”

The girls exchange a look as if they’re silently arguing over who is going to try to talk sense into me, but I’m not interested in hearing whatever it is they’ve planned.

This isn’t an intervention.

“Fal, we haven’t seen you in a week, and you’re standing here covered in what looks like bruises. You don’t think we have a right to be concerned?” Rae says, gesturing to the marks on my neck and chest.

“They’re hickies , Rae. I’m fine, okay? I’m great, even. I’m staying a few more nights with him, and I’ll be back by the weekend. We can spend a few days together and catch up, but for now, I’m leaving,” I say, pushing past them and making my way toward the door.

“I will hunt you down if you’re not here, do you understand Fallon?” Mick yells, and I wave to them both before slipping into the hallway.

I sigh, knowing that I’m hurting them, but I have to make the choices that are right for me, and this is one of those times.

Ozzy waits for me in his truck, his dark hair tossed in a messy bun like mine, and when he sees me coming, his smile lights up this whole neighborhood.

God , the way he looks at me makes me feel like the only woman on this planet.

“There’s my beautiful girl , did they catch you?” He smirks, helping me into the passenger seat.

“I only endured a mini-lecture, it wasn’t too bad. I promised them I’d be home this weekend while you’re working to offset their rage,” I say, tucking under his arm while we drive back to the dealership.

I take a moment to look in the rearview mirror, and Rae was right. My neck is littered with purple marks, bites, and what might even be fingerprints. My chest is no better, a clear path of teeth marks trailing down my breasts and ending somewhere underneath my tank top.

Ozzy takes pride in marking me as his, but I realize that I might need to set that boundary to places only visible to him.

“What’s the matter, Bambi?” He asks, glancing at me under the glow of the streetlights.

“It looks like you beat me up.” I laugh, touching the tender spots to make my point.

He tilts my chin upward, examining his work, and sucking in a hard breath.

“Oh, Bambi. Does it hurt when I do this?” He asks, fear flooding his dark eyes.

“I like being yours,” I whisper, touching his cheek gently.

“These marks don’t make you mine. This one does.” He takes my hand, placing it on his chest where my B indents his skin.

“Maybe just in places they can’t be seen? I know how much you like to claim me,” I tease, biting my bottom lip.

He kisses me tenderly as if he’s afraid to hurt me, and I can feel the tears rolling down his cheeks.

“Look at me, baby. What is it?” I pull away from him, taking his face in my hands, his bloodshot eyes meeting mine as his shoulders shake, the tension in his body so tight.

“I’m not … I would never, Fallon,” he whispers, wiping his cheeks frantically, but I’m stuck in disbelief.

“Ozzy, you haven’t hurt me. We got caught up in the moment, that’s all,” I tell him, holding his hands in mine.

There’s something beneath the surface that’s bringing this emotional side out of him, and I’m terrified of what it could be. Rather than pushing, I lead us inside while he carries my bags, and get us situated in bed.

“I’m sorry, Bambi. I didn’t mean to break down.”

I look over at him sprawled across the mattress, and that vulnerability is still written on his face, inviting me in like an open book.

“What is it, Ozzy? You can talk to me.”

Whatever is bothering him is buried deep, like he’s unearthing a time capsule, it taking everything inside him to open it and reveal the contents.

Normally, Ozzy is all over me, laughing and quizzing me on various facts that I know, but right now, he’s a shell of himself, a hollowness casting a shadow over the soft, dark eyes that usually sparkle when he looks at me.

He takes a breath and rests his head on my lap while I take his hair down, running my fingers through his curls. It’s our special form of intimacy, and I’ve opened our safe space to him, giving him the freedom to speak when he’s ready. I’d wait a lifetime to hear whatever is weighing him down so heavily.

“I’ve seen abusive men before. I lived with them time after time, watching them hurt my mother, taking everything and leaving her with nothing. I’m not like that,” he confesses, and I can hear the pain in his voice.

We’ve shared things about our mothers before, and I know his died from her addiction, too, but he sounded so detached when he spoke of her that I thought the wound had closed. Clearly, it’s still open and cuts closer to the bone than I knew.

“Those weren’t men. Just like my stepfather, always taking from those with less power. You’re nowhere close to that,” I say quietly, giving him space to process this heavy conversation.

He climbs off me, kisses my cheek, and proceeds to dig around in his dresser for something. I’m baffled by his ability to just end a conversation, but when he pulls a bottle of vodka out from seemingly nowhere, I understand this is going to take a turn.

He sips from the glass top and passes it to me, pacing around the room like a caged animal.

“Fallon, I’ve done things. I’ve taken revenge on people who deserved it. I’m not a saint, and you shouldn’t have marks like that on your body from me. Whether it was out of love or … not.” He trails off, looking into my eyes as if he’s searching for something, but I don’t budge.

If he thinks some hickies and a few less-than-holy confessions are going to scare me off, he’s out of his mind. We took an oath, one that means the world to me.

“What did you do, Ozzy? Kill someone? That shit doesn’t fucking bother me. I wish I had the balls to stab my stepfather in his sleep, but I didn’t. Did you hurt someone who maybe hit your mother? Good. They deserved it,” I say harshly, but he doesn’t flinch.

Instead, his body language softens, like I struck a nerve he was waiting for me to reach.

“If I tell you everything, will you stay?” He asks, almost in tears, and I pull him into my chest, stroking his hair again.

“This means I’m yours,” I whisper, placing his hand on the heart he carved into my thigh.

It’s our way of assuring each other that we aren’t going anywhere and that this is real. I let him dig a knife into my skin, taste the blood, and nothing will ever come close to the sense of closeness that I feel for him.

“A few years after my mom overdosed, I ran into her dealer, and even though I bought for her all the time, he didn’t remember me. That lit my fuse, and I stabbed him. As many times as I could until I was pulled away. Right in the middle of the street, too, I just fucking lost my mind. I confessed, waved my rights to an attorney, and fully expected to spend time in prison, but Doc visited me, promising me a way out of it all. Despite my grief, anger, and total lack of regard for life, he saw something and took a chance on me.” His voice shakes, and he instinctively reaches for the vodka.

“It sounds like he had it coming, making money off people’s weaknesses. It’s lucky that Doc came for you.” I attempt to reassure him, but he shakes his head.

“Doc was worse for me than prison – look at my life, Fallon. I’m a fucking criminal! I’ve watched people die that I loved. I’ve stolen shit, shot people, all in the name of money. Fucking money. He corrupted me, all of us, and we worshiped the ground he walked on. We thought this life was better than what we left behind, but in reality, he stole more from all of us than we realized until it was too late!” He yells, his voice escalating the more he speaks, jerking out of my arms, and launching the vodka bottle across the room until it shatters against the wall.

“Ozzy, it’s okay. Come here,” I say, but he’s pacing again, the anger radiating off him as his boots crunch the broken glass scattered on the floor.

He doesn’t hear me because he’s whispering to himself, and I’m frozen, unsure of what to do.

He’s in a frenzy, the thoughts rushing him faster than he can process, like a tornado that won’t stop spinning over the same target until it causes maximum damage. I try to stop him by walking in his line of sight, but he brushes past me, his eyes glazed over and unresponsive.

Maybe his friends would know how to deal with this better than I do, but something keeps me from running out and calling for help.

“Ozzy, hurricanes can release more energy than all the world's nuclear weapons, in only ten minutes. That’s how powerful they are.” I stand firm, not letting him walk by me this time, and his manic pacing has slowed, but not enough to settle his nerves.

My voice is the key to calming him down, just like his was for me in the woods when my panic attack took over control of my body.

Our trauma responses are nearly identical, and all I need to do is talk him through this.

Luckily, I’ve seen way too much Jeopardy .

“The Trans-Siberian roadway in Russia is so long that it takes seven days to get across, and passengers travel through eight different time zones from start to finish,” I tell him, and finally, his eyes lock into mine.

“Is that by car?”

“No, on a train. There are nearly four thousand bridges to be crossed on the roadway, as well,” I answer, and he sits on the edge of the bed, a sense of calm washing over him.

“ Bambi ,” he whispers, and I rush to gather his fragile body into my arms.

I stand between his legs, holding him as tightly as possible.

Seemingly, talking about Doc sends him into a state of anger, or panic, maybe even both, which can only mean there’s more that lives beneath the surface. I’m terrified to learn more, and I’ve never heard the other guys talk much about him, so it may be a sore subject for them all.

“It’s impossible to hum when you’re holding your nose,” I whisper, and he shakes his head against my chest.

“That’s not true,” he says softly, his breathing finally returning to normal.

I plug my nose and attempt to make a humming noise, but it sounds like I’m congested or blowing a trumpet. Finally, Ozzy laughs, which instantly brings a smile to my face.

“There he is, my handsome Greek God .”

“Thank you, Fallon.” He kisses my cheek and holds me close with a protective grip, shifting until I’m perfectly positioned in his lap, the color slowly coming back into his cheeks.

“We don’t have to talk about this anymore, okay? What you’ve done will never phase me, Ozzy. I don’t need your truths to be in love with you,” I tell him, and he sighs in relief, his relaxed body still pressed against mine.

“Have I told you how incredible you are lately, Bambi?” He untangles my messy bun, running his fingers through my hair, and my eyes flutter shut, loving the feeling of his hands on my body after our emotional night.

“Maybe once or twice.”

“ Smart mouth .” He pulls me in for a kiss with soft lips, and a gentle demeanor, enveloping me in the comfort I feel when he’s with me.

This kiss is passionate, the kind that radiates love, rather than lust.

“No more marks on your body, Fallon. I promise,” he whispers, resting his forehead against mine.

My first instinct is to argue, and combat his fear of hurting me with the truth that I like it, but I decide to save that conversation for another day. His pain is on full display tonight, and I don’t want to chase him down another rabbit hole.

“You have to work in the morning, Mia Regina .” He gently lifts me off his lap, and when I check the clock, he’s right, it’s pretty late.

I climb under the covers on my side of the bed and feel his arms scoop me into his chest. Every night, Ozzy cuddles me until I fall asleep, whispering sweet nothings in my ear, mainly in Italian. We’ve been studying together, learning new words and phrases. It’s become one of our favorite pastimes, and it’s the perfect lullaby.

After the emotional toll the night has taken, there’s nothing better than feeling safe in his arms.

Midway through my shift, Keith, my boss, calls me into his office for a meeting, along with his brother Kevin. I have a feeling I know what this is about, and there’s a pit forming in my stomach.

“Ms. Mariano, you look lovely today,” Keith says, a creepy smirk on his face.

I’m wearing a black body shop hoodie, and a pair of jeans, but he never misses a chance to make me feel uncomfortable.

I feel his eyes staring at my ass while I walk to the chair opposite his desk, and a shiver runs down my spine.

Keith is a short, stocky man, with a receding hairline and tiny ponytail. His hair is graying, and more than usual he smells like fried food, which makes my stomach turn.

“What can I do for you, Keith?” I ask, and he pulls papers from his desk, handing them to me.

Just as I thought, we’re getting a delivery tonight. I skim over the logistics, reading the paragraph that is my business. Tomorrow morning, I’ll change the codes to the storage room using a randomizer, and after that, the buyer is expected to pick it up over the weekend.

That leaves the bike in the Body Shop’s possession for a total of three days, but I have a feeling that it’ll be long gone before then.

“This is huge, can you handle it?” Kevin asks, always straight to the point.

“Yes, I’ve changed the codes multiple times. No worries.” I smile, and he seems satisfied.

I shift uncomfortably in my chair, waiting for the opportunity to escape, but the brothers are going on about this bike.

“Anything else, boss?” I interrupt, and he nods, waving me toward the door.

I can finally breathe once I’m back at my desk. I haven’t heard anything new from Ozzy and the boys about this, but I now realize this is the job they have planned for this weekend.

I push that thought out of my mind, keeping a straight face as I file invoices and schedule payroll for the rest of the day.

Once the clock strikes closing time, I make a beeline for the door but Keith manages to corner me.

“Got any plans tonight, Fallon?” He asks, holding the door open for me.

“No, nothing special.” I smile politely, watching as he locks up, and I notice Ozzy’s truck out front, relief flooding through me.

Keith has tried to follow me home before, even though he has a wife and kids, and the way he’s ogling me tonight is starting to get uncomfortable.

“Come down to the bar with me, little lady, let me buy you a drink.” He places an arm around my shoulder, and my body freezes.

He’s leading me toward his car, and I try my best to pull out from under his arm, but he’s got a strong grip on me.

“Keith, I really should get going.”

He doesn’t acknowledge me, instead, he pushes me against the hood of his car and moves inches from my face.

“You’re a tease. One drink is more than fair, considering all the tiny outfits you flaunt for me every day.” He smirks, and I attempt to push him away from me, kicking my legs to try to gain momentum.

Just as I’m about to scream, Ozzy comes out of nowhere, connecting his fist to Keith’s cheek.

“She said no, you pervert,” he spits, landing one more punch to the jaw.

I race to Ozzy’s side, holding him back from doing any more damage to my boss’ face.

“I’m okay. Ozzy, look at me, I’m okay.” I pull his chin down until his eyes meet mine, and I see the sparkle in them that’s reserved only for me.

“You’re sure?”

I nod, and he helps Keith up, who’s visibly shaken after those sucker punches.

“Let this be a lesson, boss man . You don’t touch a woman when she says no, and you sure as fuck don’t touch my woman, ever again. Are we clear, or do you need to take notes?” Ozzy holds Keith by his pathetic ponytail, staring right into his eyes.

“Yeah, man. We’re cool,” he stammers, running to his car once Ozzy releases his grip.

My savior wraps his arm around me, holding me tightly as we watch Keith drive away. Ozzy offers him a sarcastic wave as he passes us before leading me to the truck.

“Next time, you knee him in the balls, understand?” He asks, kissing my forehead and opening the door for me.

“If I do that, then my big Greek God can’t swoop in and rescue me,” I whine, and he shakes his head.

“ Nobody touches you .”

I take his hands, examining the damage to his knuckles, and kissing the places where blood has pooled.

“We should get some ice on this,” I whisper, my eyes lingering on the crimson red staining his skin.

“What’s mine is yours, Bambi.”

I look into his eyes, and he’s almost begging me to taste it, just like the night we took our oath.

My body is tingling just from the idea, and my brain is buzzing, desperate for the thrill.

I bring his swollen hand to my quivering lips, darting my tongue across the raw flesh and I feel a sense of euphoria when the familiar metallic taste of blood reaches my tastebuds.

I savor every drop, licking my lips as Ozzy watches me, and every sense in my body feels elevated.

I’m taken to new heights every time I engage in something like this with Ozzy, and I realize I’ll chase this high for the rest of my life. Constantly in need of something that compares to the absolute phenomenon that I feel because of a small taste of something forbidden.

“Oh my god,” I breathe, closing my eyes to keep this moment from slipping away.

“ Tu sei perfetta , Bambi,” he whispers, bringing his lips to mine.

I can’t keep my hands off him, pulling him on top of me in the passenger seat of his truck. I’m desperate for more, and I slip my tongue into his mouth, tangling with his perfectly.

I moan into him, bucking my hips against his thigh, but he breaks our kiss apart.

“We have plans tonight, let me take you home,” he says, gently kissing my forehead.

I groan, missing his body pressed against mine, and he smirks, telling me with his eyes that he’s not done with me yet.

“Where are we going?” I ask, taking my usual spot against him while he drives.

“Some club downtown. Crew tradition before a big job,” he says calmly, and my stomach turns.

It’s not that I care if they steal from Keith’s, especially after what happened tonight, but I’m nervous for him.

This is the first time he’s pulling a job since we’ve been together, and I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. I’ll likely be nervous the entire weekend, wondering if he got caught or made it out safe.

“What is it, Fallon?”

I sigh, knowing that he can read me like an open book. Whenever I trail off into deep thought, Ozzy’s right there to pull me out and dissect whatever it is I’m hung up on.

“I’m just worried about you, that’s all.” I fake a smile, something else I shouldn’t do.

“You’re lying,” he says, and my facade drops.

“Fine, I’m lying. What am I supposed to do while you’re gone? I’m going to freak out the entire time, wondering if you’re okay or not,” I confess, and he sighs, parking the truck.

“We’ve done this before, Bambi. It’ll be fine, and I’ll come for you the second I’m finished.” He looks into my eyes, the sparkle in his lighting up the darkness that’s surrounding us.

“Is it the new bike coming in tomorrow?”

“Fallon …” he starts, but I cut him off.

“My boss told me about it. I have to change the codes tomorrow after it’s delivered,” I say, and his body stiffens.

“Max found a way around that. You have nothing to worry about, okay?” He affirms, and I try to take his word for it, but something about this feels off .

It’s a random code generator, so unless he’s hacked into my office computer it’ll be impossible for him to work around it.

I will let the professionals handle things – rather than sticking my nose in their business – and hope for the best.

“Come here, Bambi,” Ozzy whispers, pulling me on top of him.

“We’re going to be fine. Let’s go out, get wasted, and have the night of our lives.” He gently kisses my jaw, trailing down my neck, making me hot already. “Then, when we get back, I’m going to fuck you until the sun rises.”

He lightly nips at my skin, the rougher side of him coming back out to play, and I tip my head back in pure bliss.

“Is that a promise?” I ask, tangling my hands in his hair.

“It’s a promise, Fallon.” He kisses me one more time, leaving me breathless and desperate before leading me into the dealership.

All eyes are on us, the guys waving a bottle of vodka in the air for pregame drinks.

“What’re you having, Fallon?” Journey asks, barely glancing in my direction.

Ever since their fight, Journey hardly acknowledges me, keeping his distance and respecting Ozzy’s firm boundaries.

“Whatever you’re pouring.” I smile, lacing my fingers through Ozzy’s.

Their excitement is bubbly, and everyone is in a cheerful mood with the opportunity to let loose and get messy in a new town.

According to Ozzy, Oliver and Lex will be on the hunt for one-night stands, and their goal is always to share. The more the merrier he put it.

Journey hands me a vodka soda, and I sip it slowly, not looking to get drunk before we even leave.

“Go get ready, you two. We’re leaving in an hour!” Max yells over the music.

I realize I don’t have anything to wear, but when Ozzy brings me into his room, there are three dresses laid on the bed.

“You went shopping for me?”

“Of course, Bambi. Pick whichever one, they’re all yours.” He smirks, slapping my ass, and I have to bite my lip to hold back my tears.

I swear, he does the nicest things for me, and it leaves me in awe every single time.

“Thank you, Ozzy.” I stand on my tip-toes, kissing his cheek one last time before he leaves to shower.

I try each dress on, and they’re all vastly different, like he couldn’t decide which style I’d go for, and I love him even more for giving me options.

The pink one is knee-length, with a modest neckline, and makes my ass look huge, but something about it doesn’t seem like the right fit for tonight.

Next, I try on the black sequin dress, liking how it flows around my curves and sits mid-thigh. It’s sleeveless, though, and I don’t have a bra to go with it.

The last one is silver, and shimmers in the light like a disco ball. The plunging v-neck shows off my cleavage, but the dress barely covers my ass, and I feel exposed.

Just as I’m about to settle for the pink one, Ozzy walks into the room and audibly gasps.

“It’s too much, isn’t it?” I say, feeling self-conscious and slightly embarrassed, my cheeks flushing with heat.

Suddenly, the room feels overwhelmingly hot, but before I can freak out, Ozzy sighs, drawing me back to him.

“Not at all. You look fucking incredible, Fallon,” he whispers, slowly walking toward me with his eyes fixated on me, filling with lust.

I feel that flutter in my belly, again, the one that reminds me that he’s a real fucking man , and I’m so dangerously obsessed with him.

“It’s so short, and revealing, though.” I attempt to tug at the dress to cover up, slightly turning back to the mirror to see if I made any progress.

“Do you like it?” Ozzy growls, his voice dropping so low I almost jump, but that fierceness in his eyes brings me back to the moment.

“I love it. I don’t want any guys giving me attention, though. It’s too much, and I’m sure it’ll attract the creeps.” I start pulling the straps down so I can change, but Ozzy has other plans.

“Wear whatever you want, Bambi. I know how to fight,” he whispers, tilting my chin upward to meet his gaze.

Heat immediately flushes me, the same way I felt earlier tonight when he sucker-punched my boss for getting handsy.

Ozzy can, and will, fight for me if necessary.

That thought turns me on, giving me a confidence booster, too, and I decide to wear the dress proudly.

“My savior,” I tease, trailing my fingers across his jawline.

“Curl your hair the way I like,” he orders, slapping my ass hard, causing me to scream his name. “ Good girl .”

He bites his lip as he leaves the room, winking at me as the door closes behind him.

Fuck.

I’m insanely turned on, and I have a feeling Ozzy won’t stop teasing me well into the night.

Outside the door, I can hear the guys getting rowdy, the drinks already hitting them, and I know I’m in for an interesting time tonight.

Once I’m satisfied with my hair and makeup I grab my drink and join everyone in the living room, ignoring the whistles and hollering from the guys. Ozzy meets me halfway, taking me by the hand and twirling me around in the middle of the room. My purple hair spins with me, shining in the light, and showing off the curls I did just for my man.

I feel like a Goddess, and he’s my God.

“Better watch out, Fallon. Oz might knock someone out if they even breathe in your direction,” Oliver laughs, and I shrug, not caring if that’s what it comes down to.

“He’s already punched one creep for me today, what’s a few more?” I quip, and Ozzy dips me down.

“That smart mouth drives me wild, Bellissima ,” he says before kissing me, hard, in front of everyone.

Another way for him to claim me, and I love every second of it. My mind is hazy, my cheeks are flushed, and he has me right where he likes me.

Max has chosen to be the designated driver, so we all pile into the van while Journey pours shots and we toast to their first night out on the town.

When we arrive at the club, the bouncer lets me in by checking me out, rather than verifying my age, and I can feel Ozzy’s possessiveness radiating off him. I love the fierce predator that lies within him, and I know that I’ll be seeing that side jump out throughout the night.

I take to the dance floor, swaying with the music, and Ozzy stands back at the bar, with his eyes on me the entire time.

He looks like my personal bodyguard, dressed in a white button-down shirt and black pants. His curly hair falls around his shoulders as if he came straight out of the ocean, and even though a few guys might crowd me tonight, I know what the girls are going to be after, and they don’t want to see my possessive side.

We’re playing a game tonight and I can’t wait to see who comes out on top.