Page 26 of Magic or Madness

I don’t ask any more questions, hoping he’ll share more if he’s comfortable enough with me. I’m shocked that he took it so far while defending me, though, and it’s sweet in a way that radiates possessiveness. I’ve never been with a guy who’s willing to risk it all just for me, and makes it his mission to mark me in every way ashis.

“There was a girl,” he starts, sighing deeply in a way that makes me nervous about what he’ll say next.

I stay still, watching while he collects his thoughts, not moving an inch so as to not disrupt this moment.

“Her name was Masha, and she was a part of our crew. She fit right in with us, and we all treated her like our little sister,” he pauses, reaching for my hand and lacing our fingers together.

I’m tense, my breaths hitching on his next words because it’s clear that this is hard for him to talk about. It’s surprising because, so far, he’s been an open book, and hasn’t hesitated with anything I’ve asked him. There’s pain behind this, and I’m not sure if I can see him hurting without it destroying me, too.

“We had a job that went sideways, a fucking … security guard who picked up an extra shift, and we had to run for it. We jumped over fences, and ran through alleys, and a car came out of nowhere. It crushed Masha into limp, broken pieces, and we had to carry her nearly lifeless body back to the van. She died inmy arms.” He swipes at the tears falling down his cheeks, and I squeeze his hand harder, letting him know that I’ve got him.

The sobs wracking through his body are enough to crumble me, but I bite my lip to keep myself from breaking, internally promising that I can be strong for him. I want to show him that I can carry the load sometimes, and when he needs to let go of the things he holds onto so deeply, I’ll be able to hold us both above water.

“It was my fault. I made her run in front of me to protect her, but in the end, she died anyway. Maybe if I had just let her jog behind me at her own pace …”

“Oh, Ozzy. I am so sorry. Will you tell me about her sometime?” I ask with sincerity, hoping it cheers him up, even if only slightly.

My heart is shattering for him, and I can feel the pain he holds onto, the guilt wracking through his body. He’s shaking in my arms, attempting to hide his emotions, but I embrace his vulnerability, holding onto his chest even tighter.

“I already have, kind of,” he whispers, and a flurry of memories come back to me, the things he’s shared with me clicking into place.

“The TV show and the Italian?”

“Yes, that was all Masha. She was our little sister, and she would’ve loved you, Fallon. Especially because of how smart you are. We always swore she was a genius, and that she didn’t belong with us.” He sighs, and in a split second reaches down, tilting my chin so I’m looking into his eyes.

I want to look away, to avoid seeing the pain in his tortured irises, but I hold onto his gaze, feeling the connection that radiates between us. It’s only growing and getting stronger the more time we spend together.

“You’re the best thing that’s happened to me since she died,” he says softly, and the floodgates open, thick tears rolling slowly down my cheeks.

We’re both a mess, crying for different reasons, but this is the best I’ve ever felt. Being with Ozzy is natural, like we are fulfilling our purpose in life by finally meeting, and being together.

“Let’s lighten the mood a little?” I change the subject, hoping to cheer us both up after the heaviness that we’ve been enveloped in.

“Tell me your idea of a perfect date,” he prompts as if I’m filling out a questionnaire, but I roll with it, letting my imagination wander as far as it’ll take me.

Ozzy pulls me up so we’re face to face, and I’m at eye level with the tear stains left on his cheeks. His eyes are bloodshot, and I reach up, swiping the tender spots with the pad of my thumb.

I place a gentle kiss on the tip of his nose, my way of showing him affection, and he presses his lips to mine, softly and slowly. It’s not a kiss of desire or hunger, instead, it’s passionate, warm, and feels like home.

We stay this way, with our lips tangled and our hearts open until he pulls away and presses his forehead to mine.

“My Bambi,” he mutters, almost too quiet for me to hear, but loud enough to send heat flushing straight to my cheeks.

He shifts us around, tugging the blankets around us, and holding me against his chest while my head rests on his shoulder.

“About that date.” He reminds me, and I smile, letting my inner thoughts run wild.

“Easy. It would be a beach day. Playing in the sand, swimming in the ocean, and tanning, of course. Then, dinner at a seafood restaurant right on the ocean. There would be whitewine and shrimp scampi, maybe clams for an appetizer.Yeah, definitely clams.Afterward, a long walk on the shore, collecting seashells for a craft project that I'd probably never get around to. There would be a kiss that made me smile every time I thought about it. It would feel like the beginning of a love story,” I ramble, picturing it all in my head, and letting the creative power in me take control.

“That’s perfect, Fallon. When do you want to do it?” He asks, and I sit up in shock, raising my eyebrow at him.

“You want to make that dream date a reality, don’t you?”

“Of course I do. Tomorrow?”

I shake my head, unsure of how I got so lucky to find such a sweetheart of a man. He may look scary on the outside, and his line of work is dangerous – and illegal – but deep down, he’s a softie.

He’s my Prince Charming.

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