Blood & Bones: Ozzy by Jeanne St. James

Chapter Twenty

His boots had turnedto cinder blocks and lifting his feet to take the next step from the motel’s office to his apartment took effort.

Every damn one.

He’d been stuck manning the front desk for fucking hours. And in all that damn time, he went over and over in his head what he wanted to say. How he wanted to say it.

But, fuck him, it didn’t matter what he said or how he said it, the thought of telling her the truth caused dread to choke him.

He shouldn’t confess. He should keep it to himself. She didn’t need to know.

It wouldn’t bring her father back.

She could live the rest of her life in ignorant bliss. So, why the fuck was he doing this?

Because since finding out Ham was her father, it had become the festering wound he had worried about. With every passing day, it was eating away at him from the inside out.

He wanted her to stay, but if she did, he couldn’t live like this for the rest of his fucking life. It would slowly kill them and the connection they had.

And worse, she wouldn’t know what ate at him.

He needed to stop avoiding it, tell her what happened to her father and live with whatever the outcome was.

He already knew it wouldn’t be immediate forgiveness.

It couldn’t be that easy. Not with karma snapping at his heels.

Worse, he hoped to fuck she didn’t run to the pigs. Because then he’d have no choice but to take off and leave Manning Grove. And he’d never be able to return.

He hoped like fuck she’d at least let him explain, so she would eventually come to understand why he had done what he’d done to her father.

To the man who killed his mother.

Now, he was running out of time. Over breakfast, she’d said that once she made some final tweaks on the new reservation system—the part of the motel’s website that had given her a shitload of trouble—her job here would be finished.

But she tackled both the website and those problems like a champ and as soon as she was done with it today, she’d get Trip to approve it so she could collect the rest of her payment.

Then she could head back to Boston.

His bed would once again be empty.

He’d be missing a piece of himself. A piece only Shay could fill. She had slipped right into that spot without even trying. A spot he didn’t even know was empty.

He had dropped his guard with her and it happened when he wasn’t paying attention. He hadn’t given himself a chance to protect himself against it or to prevent it from happening.

In truth, maybe he didn’t want to and he actually allowed it to happen.

Maybe it was the right time and Shay the right woman.

But the joke was on him since she turned out to be the daughter of the man he had hated the most in his life.

At the top of the stairs, with his hand gripping the knob, he dropped his head, closed his eyes and sucked a breath in through his nostrils. He tried to swallow the impending doom that had risen as he ascended the stairs.

But it only remained stuck in his throat. Choking him.

He’d never been afraid of anything.

Until now.

Until this very fucking moment.

He reached under his shirt and pulled out his beaded necklace. With his eyes still closed, he touched every bead until he got to the amulet at the bottom. He wrapped his fingers around it and squeezed.

Strength, protection and courage.

He could use all of that about now.

He opened his eyes, dropped the necklace once again under his shirt, blew out the breath he’d been holding and turned the knob, shoving open the door.

His apartment was quiet and at first glance, Shay was nowhere to be found.

But he knew where she was.

He crossed the dozen feet from the stairs to the glass sliders and saw her out there. Using the table set he’d purchased for her so it was easier for her to work outside when the weather was nice.

The table also had a hole in the center for a large umbrella and he’d bought her one of those, too. Being mid-September, the weather was still hot and humid. The sun could easily burn her fair skin.

She didn’t worship the sun like Liz did. That was just one more way she was the total opposite of the former sweet butt.

He didn’t want to have this conversation outside, so he slid open the glass door a crack and asked, “Sweetheart, you done soon?”

His heart skipped a fucking beat as she lifted her head and turned her dark brown eyes in his direction.

Then she smiled at him.

Since he caused that smile, it belonged to him and him alone.

He took a snapshot of her in his mind and hoped it wasn’t the last fucking smile she ever gave him. If it was, he wasn’t sure how the fuck he’d survive it.

Yeah, he was. He wouldn’t.

The first thing he did every morning was roll over, brush the hair out of her face and waited until she woke up to give him that smile. Not only on her lips but in her eyes.

Fuck.

“I just emailed Trip the website link for him to approve the work. Do you want to see the final site?”

He shook his head. “Not right now.”

He’d already seen bits and pieces of the website as she’d worked on it. Occasionally she’d ask him for suggestions, so he was sure it was perfect. As it was, Trip was much more anal about that kind of shit than he was. With his attention to detail, the prez would be the best one to catch any issues.

Ozzy wouldn’t be able to concentrate on it right now, anyway. “If you’re done, need you to come inside.”

Even though he’d said it gently, her smile faltered. She didn’t drop her gaze from his as she closed her laptop and stood. If she said anything to him as she gathered her things, he couldn’t hear it over the pounding of his heart in his ears.

The heart that was about to split in fucking two.

He slid the door open wider for her and once she stepped past him, he closed it, staring out at the empty deck for a few seconds before turning and watching her place her laptop and the rest of her stuff on the kitchen counter.

“Is there a problem?”

Problem wasn’t the right word for it. “Just need to talk to you about somethin’.”

She tilted her head and stared at him, her eyes saying it all.

It was obvious she already knew what the first part of the conversation would be about. She’d been waiting for it and one reason she emphasized this morning that she was finishing up the motel’s website today.

She couldn’t hide it in her face. The eagerness. The anticipation.

Which made it all so much fucking worse since she had no idea about the second part.

The part that would hurt.

Maybe even devastate.

Not just her, but him, too.

“Okay?” Her eyes were now lit up, her voice colored with excitement of a possible future together.

He just needed to do this.

Get it done and over with.

But, for fuck’s sake, he wasn’t ready.

He’d never be ready.

“Shay… Want you to stay. In Manning Grove. Here.” He indicated the apartment and motel with a jerk of his head. “With me.”

As she bounced slightly on her toes, and her mouth opened to answer him, he lifted a hand to stop her from saying anything before he could get the rest out. Of fucking course seeing her excitement caused his gut to twist into a tight knot. She wanted to say yes. She would stay. With him.

She wanted to be with him.

And he wanted that more than fucking anything.

“But before you make your decision,” fuck, “gotta tell you somethin’.”

Christ all-fuckin-mighty,he couldn’t do this.

She settled flat-footed on the floor, no longer looking like she just downed a 5-Hour Energy Shot, and her brow furrowed. “What? Did my father have more secrets you haven’t told me yet?”

He squeezed his eyes shut and once again took a long inhale through his nostrils. His heart was attempting to escape his chest. He wouldn’t doubt she could see the intense thumping through his damn T-shirt.

But he needed to nut up and be a man right fucking now. Own up to what he’d done and also explain why.

She had to understand. For fuck’s sake, she had to.

She was smart and level-headed. She was rational.

“Can’t live with this secret between us, so I gotta tell you. You might hate me and I get it. Gonna hate it if you hate me, but gonna understand it if you do.”

“What?” Her brown eyes were now wide, the excitement long gone and he could hear the slight tremor in her voice. All the color had fled her face. “What? You’re scaring me. Tell me.”

He didn’t want to tell her.

He didn’t.

But how couldn’t he?

“This is somethin’ I ain’t ever told anyone before.” He struggled to get air, his throat felt like it had closed to the width of a pencil, and a sharp pain radiated through his chest. “My mother died—”

“You told me that already.”

He shook his head. “She didn’t just die. Someone killed her when I was fifteen.”

Her worry quickly turned to sadness and empathy. “I’m sorry. Why didn’t you mention it before? That had to be very difficult.”

“Yeah. Came home and found her in our kitchen—”

She gasped and slapped a hand over her mouth for a second, then dropped it, a horrified look on her face. “You found her? Oh my God! That’s awful. To find your mother…” Her eyes instantly became shiny.

Christ, if she started crying this would make it so much fucking worse. He needed to continue and see this through.

“Someone had gotten into the house and… The person was looking for her boyfriend. But, of course, she was there, too. She ended up bein’ collateral damage.”

As he’d been talking, she’d moved closer. “Someone killed her and her boyfriend?”

He hesitated. She didn’t need to know the truth about Fender since it didn’t touch her in any way. “Yeah.”

Fuck.

Now she was toe to toe with him and held a tight fistful of his T-shirt within her fingers. She tipped her face up to him. “You were only fifteen. What did you do?”

“Ran to a neighbor’s house. The old man called the pigs. Then the state came and got me, even though I didn’t wanna go.”

“Did family eventually come get you?”

He shook his head. “No. My father was in prison. Because of that, the little family he had disowned us all. Had no other family to go to. Nobody wanted me, so ended up in the system for about a year.”

“Ozzy, I’m so sorry.”

Not as much as he would be. He pushed on because he needed to get this the fuck over with. “Took off from the foster home before I was supposed to.” The fuck if he was waiting until he was eighteen. Instead, he ran away the day right after he turned sixteen.

Just fucking ghosted.

“After you took off, did you immediately join the Fury? You said you lied about your age at the time.”

It wasn’t immediate, but it didn’t matter, so he nodded and tried to swallow the brick lodged in his throat. The closer he got to the truth, the larger that brick was becoming.

Keep fuckin’ goin’.

“Even though my mom had no ties to any MC, the man she was seein’ at the time did. That led to her bein’ killed ‘cause of a beef between two clubs. The biker she was seein’ didn’t belong to the Fury but betrayed them. ‘Cause of that, someone in the Fury broke into our house to leave a message and a warnin’. That Fury member killed my mother ‘cause she was a witness.”

She shook her head slightly and frowned. “I don’t understand. How could you join the same club that killed your mother?”

This was where the truth was going to really start fucking hurting. “Revenge. No other reason.”

“And did you get it?” Her question was whispered but it might as well have been shouted.

“Yeah.”

Something crossed her face, but it was gone as quickly as it came. “Was the revenge as sweet as everyone thinks it is?”

Fuck me.“At the time, yeah.”

“At the time? How about now?”

A clock began ticking in his head. A countdown to the end. Of this story. Of what he and Shay had. “Not… quite.”

Her brow dipped low. “What changed?”

Bile rose up his throat making him want to fucking puke. “Who was affected by that revenge.”

“I don’t understand.” She shook her head, clearly confused. “Who else was affected besides the people directly involved?”

He sucked in a breath. Then another. He was walking a narrow path along a cliff, knowing it could be disastrous but once he started, he couldn’t stop. It was too late for him to go back. To change his mind and take another path. He had to keep going and get to the other side.

“Shay…”

She blinked as she stared up at him and her lips parted the slightest bit.

“Shay,” he tried again, trying desperately not to show the agony on his face, but he was failing.

Totally fucking failing.

She released his shirt and stepped back. “Just say it,” she said way too calmly. Before he could, she clenched her hands into fists, slammed them into her thighs, and screamed, “Just say it!”

He squeezed his eyes shut for a second. When he opened them again, he forced himself to meet hers and admit, “You. You were affected.”

Her breath hissed from her as she absorbed his words. As their meaning settled in her brain.

“What did you do?” Her question was thick, raw. She sucked in a breath and on the exhale shrieked, “What did you do?”

He winced and turned away.

He couldn’t face her. He didn’t want to see the pain of betrayal on her face.

“Tell me I’m wrong. Tell me!”

Jesus fucking Christ.He tried to swallow but it was impossible. He had to force out each damn word. Each one a sliver of broken glass slicing his throat. “You ain’t wrong.”

It was done.

He heard her feet, then the rush of air right before she grabbed his arm and jerked him around to face her. She surged forward, pounding her fists on his chest, sobbing, releasing a wail so eerie it made his heart seize.

Anguish. Pure fucking anguish. Not only what he was feeling, but what was on her face. She wore a mask of pure grief and betrayal. Disappointment and anger.

He understood it. He did.

She had every fucking right to feel that way.

She continued to beat on his chest and he did nothing to stop her.

Not a damn thing.

She needed an outlet for her pain and he was it. Because he had caused that pain.

He had hurt someone he never wanted to.

But it was her tears, her uncontrollable sobs that rose from deep inside her, that slayed him…

Those tears were like acid. Burning his gut.

Each sob was like a gunshot wound to his chest.

When she fucking collapsed to her knees at his feet—a marionette whose strings had been severed—he wasn’t sure if either of them would ever be the same again.

“It was you? You did it? You…” A hiccup-sob jerked her body.

When she folded over onto herself, one arm pressing against her stomach, he squatted in front of her, trying to hold her, to help. To comfort her for something he had done. Because he didn’t know what else to do.

In truth, there was nothing he could do.

But as soon as he touched her, she screamed, “Don’t!” and slapped his hands away. “Don’t touch me!”

The only time he ever felt so goddamn helpless was the very moment he discovered his mother on that kitchen floor. “Shay…”

“Don’t. Just don’t. Don’t you fucking dare!”

He reluctantly rose to his feet, scraped his fingers through his hair and stared at her on the floor. Broken. He broke her. It was all his fault. “Shay…”

She shook her head and lifted a shaky palm. “Just leave me alone… I just… I can’t… I don’t know what to do with this.”

Heartbreak colored her voice and he hated it. He hated this.

“Stay, sweetheart. Stay and let me help you understand.” They could get through this fucking mess together. She only had to be willing to give him a chance. Give them a chance.

They couldn’t let their past affect their future. She needed to see that.

“I do understand. That’s the damn problem. You took my father from me. You, Ozzy. And all these years, I was left wondering what the hell happened to him. Years.” Her voice cracked. “And you knew all this time.”

“I didn’t know who he was to you, Shay. Not ’til you saw that photo and pointed him out. Had no idea Ham was your father.”

“But then you knew. You knew! And you kept it from me. You hid that secret from me for how long? And… and… I fell… I fell… Oh my God…” She covered her quivering mouth with her hand, stifling a whimper.

She fell?

What did that mean…?

Oh fuck!

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“Tell me you beat him up, chased him out of town and told him never to come back… Tell me he’s living somewhere because his penance to you was to give up his family since he took yours from you. Tell me that, Ozzy. I need to hear that.”

What fucking lies did she want him to tell her? Because any and all of that would be just more of them.

“Shay…”

“Ozzy! Did you kill him? Did you actually kill him? Did you take his life and take him from me? From my mother?”

Couldn’t she see he had a reason for revenge? His mother was killed for no fucking reason while he killed Ham for a good one. Goddammit! “Your father killed my fuckin’ mother, Shay! For no fuckin’ good reason.”

“He was wrong. But so were you. So… were…,” she jabbed a finger up at him, “you!”

Unfortunately, he wasn’t done. Not yet.

He needed to make her understand.

“Ain’t gonna lie, Shay, I wouldn’t take back what I did. I wouldn’t. If you’d have seen my mother…” He struggled to swallow as that memory tried to swallow him. A memory Ham caused.

“I don’t want to hear it, Ozzy. I don’t.” Her voice was thick with tears as she turned her ravaged face up toward him. Red eyes, red nose and trembling lips. She swiped a hand over it and surged to her feet, hissing, “My father always warned me to stay away from you guys. He was right. But he should’ve taken his own advice, too. His mistake. Your mistake. And my mistake, too.”

“Shay… Sweetheart…”

She shook her head. “Don’t you dare call me that. I just can’t…” Another sob escaped her and she dropped her head to hide her face.

“Shay, goddamn it. At least, let me help you understand.”

“I don’t need your help. I don’t need anything from you.” When she lifted her face again, tears were streaming down her cheeks, catching in the corners of her mouth, dripping off her chin. “I thought you were a good guy, but I was wrong. You’re a… a… murderer. You should be in prison.”

He couldn’t argue that. It was all true.

He held out an arm. “Shay, you gotta understand that—”

“Oh, I understand. I understand that you did what you thought you needed to do. Because of that, not only was one family destroyed, but two.”

He wanted to go to her. Hold her. Assure her shit would be all right. They’d get past this. They could. She just needed to want that, too.

“Now I’m going to take my father’s advice to heart and stay the hell away from you and your damn club.”

He took a step toward her. “Shay—”

She flipped a palm up to stop him. “Just leave me alone so I can get my stuff and leave.”

Fuck.“That’s not—”

“Don’t make it an issue, Ozzy. Just let me go.” She shook her head and stepped over to the counter.

Once she gathered her laptop and work stuff in her arms, he stepped into her path as she turned to head toward the bedroom. “Don’t wanna fuckin’ let you go. Want you to fuckin’ stay. We can talk this shit out.”

He didn’t touch her. Though, he wanted to. He wanted to pull her to him and hold her tight. Until the initial shock was over and she could think straight.

“Talk it out? Are you serious?”

“You just need some time to process it.”

“You really are fucking serious, aren’t you?” She shook her head again and stepped around him, heading into the bedroom.

The sound of the door slamming shut was like taking another gunshot to the chest. This one directly in his heart.

He had known this conversation would be rough.

He had known it would most likely change things between them, but he had to get it out. Had to tell her.

He’d never be able to live with himself if he didn’t.

But that didn’t make any of this easier.

He stared at the closed bedroom door and heard her moving behind it.

Packing.

Leaving his apartment. Leaving Manning Grove. Leaving him.

Taking all her shit and going the fuck back home to Boston.

He spun on his boot heel and strode across the apartment before he started breaking shit. Before he flipped the fuck out.

Before he lost his goddamn mind.

Because if he did, it would only make things worse.

He needed to keep his shit wrapped tight and give her time.

Give her space.

Then hope like fuck, she’d eventually understand.

He jerked open the glass slider, stepped outside into the mid-September heat and slammed it shut behind him.

Jamming his hands on his hips to keep himself from tossing the furniture off the deck and onto the pavement below, he began to pace.

“God-fuckin-damnit!” he bellowed to the sky. To the fucking universe.

With each stride he took across the deck, he struggled not to go back inside and force her to listen, to see it from his perspective.

He knew it wouldn’t do any good.

It was over.

Done.

Nothing was going to change that. Since the only one who could, would be Shay.

Right now, she wasn’t having any of that.

Not that he could blame her.

But it still stung like fuck.