Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 70801 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 354(@200wpm)___ 283(@250wpm)___ 236(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70801 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 354(@200wpm)___ 283(@250wpm)___ 236(@300wpm)
Ozzy’s expression turns warm. “After they left, Poe didn’t even ask if I was okay. He just sat beside me and handed me a soda.”
I blink. “A soda?”
Ozzy nods. “Stolen from the gas station.”
I laugh again. “Romantic.”
Ozzy’s eyes glint. “It was. For us.”
My chest tightens in a strange way.
Ozzy continues, “We sat there drinking warm soda, and Poe finally said, ‘You should stop picking fights you can’t win.’”
I giggle. “That sounds like you.”
Ozzy’s mouth curves. “I told him, ‘You should stop lurking like a serial killer.’”
I giggle, and Ozzy’s expression softens even more.
“He didn’t smile,” Ozzy says. “But he… stayed. Walked me home. Didn’t tell anyone. Didn’t make me feel weak.”
My throat tightens painfully.
“And after that,” Ozzy murmurs, “he was just… there. Always.”
I stare up at Ozzy, something sharp and aching forming behind my ribs. “That’s…” My voice wobbles. “That’s a real friend.”
Ozzy nods once. “Yeah.”
I swallow hard, blinking too fast. “I’ve never had that.”
Ozzy’s eyes sharpen. “Never?”
I shake my head, embarrassed by the honesty. “I’ve never trusted anyone like that. Not really. People… leave. Or they want something. Or they turn mean.”
My voice goes quieter. “It always felt safer to keep everything inside.”
Ozzy’s expression shifts to anger, and then to a fierce control. He cups the back of my head gently, bringing me closer. “You can trust me.”
My chest tightens. I laugh weakly, trying to deflect. “Ozzy—”
“No,” he says, voice low and unwavering. “I mean it.” His eyes lock on mine, intense and steady. “I’d do anything for you.” The words land like a weight. A beautiful, terrifying weight.
My throat tightens, and I hate how close I am to crying. “Why?” I whisper, because the question has haunted me since the moment he pulled me out of that compound.
Ozzy’s gaze drops to my mouth, then returns to my eyes. “Because you’re you.”
That’s not a logical answer. It’s not one I can argue with. It’s not one I know how to accept without flinching.
My lips part, and for a second I don’t know what to say. So I do the only thing I can. I press my mouth to his.
Ozzy makes a low sound in his throat and kisses me back immediately—slow, deep, like he’s been holding himself back from the moment we woke up. His hand slides down my back, firm and protective, and my body reacts like it’s been trained to crave him.
When we break apart, my breath is shaky.
Ozzy’s forehead rests against mine. “You okay?”
I nod, even though my chest hurts with how much I want to believe him. Then reality taps me on the shoulder again, because it always does.
Ozzy’s phone buzzes on the nightstand. Once. Then again. Ozzy’s eyes flick toward it, and his expression hardens slightly. It’s work. Or danger. He sighs. “I’ve got calls to make.”
My heart sinks instinctively. Not because I’m jealous. Because I’m scared the moment he steps away, the safety will go with him.
Ozzy must see it on my face because he kisses my temple and says, “I’m not going anywhere.”
I nod slowly.
He shifts, careful as he slides out of bed, and I immediately miss the warmth of him like my body is offended by the absence. Ozzy pulls on a shirt and sweatpants, then turns back to me. He looks… different like this. Less vulnerable. More like a weapon. Still mine, my brain whispers, and I shove that thought down fast.
He comes to the side of the bed and brushes his knuckles over my cheek. “Stay here. I’ll be right outside.”
I nod again.
Ozzy’s gaze holds mine for a beat longer, then he steps away, grabbing his phone.
As he leaves the room, I curl into the pillows, the sheets still smelling like him, my body still humming.
I stare at the dim lamp and the quiet walls and think about what he said.
You can trust me.
I’d do anything for you.
I’ve never had a friend like Poe. Never had a person who showed up in the alley with a bat and no fear. But maybe— maybe I have something else now. Something dangerous. Something real. And for the first time, instead of flinching away from it—
I let myself hold it close, just for a little while longer.
TWENTY
OZZY
I step out onto the back porch like I’m just going to check the weather. Like I’m not about to find out whether Salem’s life is about to get flipped upside down—again.
The night air is cool, the kind that bites your lungs a little and makes you feel awake whether you want to be or not. The woods around Rainmaker are dark and quiet, the tree line a solid wall of shadow. Somewhere in the distance, a creek murmurs like it doesn’t know anything about monsters. Behind me, through the window, I can see a warm glow from the bedroom lamp.
Salem is in there.
Safe.
For now.
I pull my phone out and open the secure line. Arrow’s already in the thread—Rae too, probably—because nothing happens without them knowing. The moment I hit connect, the line clicks and a voice comes through I wasn’t expecting this late.