Page 107 of Hold Still

McKenna

WITHOUT THINKING, Istep through the open doorway, my eyes focused on the only person in here who matters to me—Ozzy. He draws in a breath.

“Ms. James, we’re in a closed session,” Peggy Laswell announces.

Without moving my eyes from the larger-than-life rocker standing before this group and singing my praises, I say, “I came back because I forgot to tell you something.”

Peggy waives her hand, either in frustration or welcome, I’m not sure. “Come on in, McKenna.”

McKenna. Not Ms. James. I take an unbalanced step toward the conference table, still looking at the man who stole my heart. Before I can process his black eye and split lip, he rushes toward me, tattooed arms open. I step into his strong embrace.

“Ozzy,” I say as he whispers, “McKenna.”

I tilt my head back, our lips a breath away from each other. I want to ask what happened to him. More importantly, I want to close the gap and kiss him for all I’m worth. My eyes stray to the conference table, where Peggy smiles at me.

Returning to look at Ozzy, I confess, “Nothing matters to me if I don’t have you.” My mouth bridges the small distance between us and I peck his upper, non-split lip. I whisper, “Let’s get out of here.”

“What about why you came back here in the first place?” His baritone seeps into every crevice of my body.

Sighing, I recognize that he’s right. I need to correct the record before the board. And then get the hell out of here—to someplace where Ozzy and I can be alone. I steal one more look at his bruised face. “I’ll make it quick.”

I disengage from him, immediately mourning the loss of his arms. Turning toward the table, the members of the board look a lot more relaxed than when I was before them this morning. Knowing Ozzy’s on my side, and obviously wants to work things out, I gulp some much-needed air.

“Thanks for letting me speak to you again. Before, I told you all about what happened that night years ago and my testimony at the trial. However, I forgot to let you know that I testified at Matt’s parole hearing a couple of weeks ago, arguing against his early release. When I learned that—for whatever unknown reason—he was granted parole, I got a restraining order against him for my mother and me. He’s violated it several times already and I’m sure he’ll be back in prison soon. You can check all this with public records, if you want. I just wanted you to know about this.”

From behind me, Ozzy says, “Actually, he’s back behind bars as we speak.”

I suck in my breath and swing around. “What?”

Ozzy shrugs, my eyes landing on his swollen knuckles for the first time. I grab both of them in my hands. “What happened?

Looking down at me but responding so that the entire room can hear, he says, “I went to McKenna’s house today and he showed up. The police came and took him away.”

The nervous energy coursing through my body since Matt was released dissipates all at once. He’s no longer free. He’s not a threat anymore. “Oh, Ozzy!” He smiles down at me, his left eye nearly shut. “Please tell me he looks worse than you do.”

A smirk crosses his face. “Oh, yeah. Believe me, Dulcita.”

I need to get out of here. This room is not the appropriate place for me to tear Ozzy’s clothes off. Although Peggy might enjoy the show, considering how she’s looking at him.

Smiling, I turn to the board and say, “That’s everything. I hope to hear my candidacy is still in place.” Placing my hand around Ozzy’s forearm so as not to injure his hands any further, I push him toward the doorway.

Peggy’s voice stops our escape. “McKenna, we had already decided to keep your name in the competition before Mr. Martinez came in and spoke on your behalf. But his certainly was a heroic performance.”

Her words ring in my ears. I did it! I spin around and say, “Thank you.”

She shakes her head. “No, thank you. You both reminded us about why we love the Artist Avenue Adventure Project, and what’s so inspiring about it. It’s made up of wonderful people like you both, who always strive to do their best. We look forward to seeing you in January in LA for the awards ceremony.”

I nod as Ozzy grabs my hand. Together, we race out of the room to the sound of chuckles from the board. While hearing my chances to stay in the national competition is a relief, I need to reconnect with the man at my side now. In the hallway, I point to the side entrance, “I’m parked out here.”

He nods. “Shirley’s out front. And she missed you.”

We change course, pass the receptionist and out the front door. Shirley gleams in a nearby parking spot. When we reach her, Ozzy opens the storage area and hands me my helmet. Not caring that I’m in a skirt, or that the bald eagle helmet will screw up my hair, I buckle the strap and enjoy the show as he hops onto the bike. Wrapping my arms and thighs around him, I hold on as he peels out of the parking lot.

Laughing, I squeeze his chest and enjoy having his hard body in front of me. We zip through the streets of Vegas, and soon pull into his driveway. Instead of going in through the front door, he leads us to the side gate.

The pool glistens in the afternoon sun. The patio furniture is inviting. Standing about four feet away from me, he turns. All I want to do is jump into his arms again.

“I can’t believe you went to the board on my behalf.”

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