Page 25 of Stray

“There are d-rings in my glove box. Grab one, push it through the belt loop, and then place it by the backseat window on that hook.”

“What? Why?” I roll my eyes at her question.

“Tink, give me thirty seconds of trust, alright? Thirty seconds.” I watch her exhale before climbing into the cab and grabbing a ring from the glove box. She forces it through the hole and pulls my arms over my head to attach the ring to the hook. I grunt the position isn’t comfortable, but this isn’t for me.

“Alright,” I breathe out while showing her I can’t move. “Ozzy, you have all the power here, baby, alright? I can’t touch you. I want you to close the cab door, and I want you to hug me. I want you to scream, cry, punch me, hug me, whatever you need, without fear of being touched, okay?” Her mouth falls open, and her eyes shudder.

“Jackson…” She breathes weakly, and I shake my head.

“Close the door, Ozzy. Close the door and let go.” Shockingly, she closes the door to the cab before slowly making her way closer to me as if approaching a trapped wild animal. I inhale, and Jesus fucking Christ, her smell, it’s spicy and woodsy, while her hair has a floral scent that mixes perfectly. It’s a smell I wish I could live in.

Ozzy trails the sharp point of one of her nails over my arm and up my neck, and I have to ignore the shiver that runs through me. “You could break that hook in seconds.” She breathes out, her voice cracking like the sob is right there, waiting to fall out.

“Yes,” I admit. “I could, but you could get out before I could break the hook and release my hands.” She nods and gets to her knees before… oh my god, she is straddling my lap. I–I don’t know what I was expecting, there’s no easy way to hug in the front of my truck, but… fucking god. Okay, Rowe, act unbothered.

Ozzy is shaking so hard, it’s breaking my heart.

“Jackson,” she whimpers as we look into each other’s eyes. I’ve never stared at Ozzy this closely. I look from her red-rimmed eyes down her slender nose and her lush lips. Fuck, I bet they are so fucking soft. I stare at her neck tattoo and frown. What is that? Squinting my eyes, I look closer and… are those scars? I follow the tattoo down the exposed skin on her chest, the same raised skin, it’s… everywhere.

“Ozzy,” I whisper, meeting her eyes again and trying to force the lump in my throat down. “Baby, w-what happened to you?” The sob that escapes her is terrifyingly loud in the truck’s cab, and she collapses against my chest; her arms wrap around my neck with such a powerful force it’s like she’s afraid to let me go. My arms scream in burning pain, but I ignore it. Someone hurt her worse than I ever thought. This is more than some stupid ex that hit her.

Ozzy continues to wail, and the sound is so gut-wrenching it causes me to feel physically ill. I want to wrap her in my arms, but I can’t, and it’s not what she needs. So I continue to stare up at the roof of my truck as she soaks my shirt with her tears, and I try to ignore the burning in my eyes. I am still and quiet until her sobs calm slightly, even though her grip around my neck doesn’t loosen.

“Tell me…” She manages to get out. Her voice is congested and hoarse as she speaks. “Tell me I’ll be okay, Jackson. Just lie to me and say I won’t be this way forever, please–”

“Hey,” I shift my head and timidly press my cheek against hers before whispering in her ear as softly as I can. “This feeling is temporary. Baby, I don’t know what happened to you, but you survived it, you hear me? You are so fucking strong, Ozzy. I mean, look at you, barely able to hold my hand, and now you’re hugging me. I promise you, you got this, baby, and I won’t let you fall, alright? You got me, always.”

Ozzy pulls back and stares at me. Her mouth is so close to mine I can smell the mint of the gum she must’ve been chewing earlier. She leans in, and my heart stutters, thinking she’s about to kiss me, but she reaches over and releases my arms from the hook. I groan as I slowly lower them and mourn silently as she climbs off my lap.

“Can you drive us back to the ranch?” She asks weakly, and I give her a small smile and nod. As we drive back to the ranch, it doesn’t take long for her to shut down like usual. Her eyes go distant, and her face becomes stony. I don’t take it personally, though. She’s given me something today. She is letting me drive, and she let me touch her face. Ozzy has given me her trust, and even if it was only a tiny amount for a few minutes, it’s more than I had before, and I think it’s probably more than most get from her. So, I’ll treasure it. And I’ll do whatever I have to, to earn more.

Ozzy

“Come on, Brumby,” Patrick’s cold voice grunts as he slams the metal inside me again. I feel it ripping and tearing my inner walls, but I won’t beg him, not again. I’m going to die because of these men. I’m going to die, and I can’t stop it. But I won’t give him any more satisfaction. The sight of the pistol rakes against my inner walls, and I scream out through my clenched teeth, and the fiery pain courses through me. He jams the pistol back into me, and I see him smirk through my tear and sweat-covered eyes.

“Beg Brumby, beg like the worthless whore you are, and I’ll stop.” He drives it deeper inside before I hear the cocking of the gun’s hammer. He raises a brow, waiting for my response. I look at him and spit in his face before laying my head back down. Patrick chuckles and shakes his head before pulling the trigger. I freeze, expecting to feel pain, to hear the gun, but the only sound is the click. The chamber is empty.

“Well, looks like you got lucky. Wanna see if you can get that lucky again?” I shudder as he rips the gun out of me. “Oi! Hugh!” He yells, his spit or sweat landing on my mouth. “Get over here, mate! May as well put her mouth to good use if she ain’t gonna listen to me.”

* * *

I bolt upright in my bed, sweat covering me. I flail around, trying to remove the tangled sheets from my body before standing up and turning on the light. It was just a dream… A nightmare. Well, flashback. I run my hands through my tangled hair before feeling something different. I pull my hands away and notice three of my fake nails are missing, and I clawed my forearms to bits during my flashing. I sigh deeply while trying to ignore the phantom pain in my vagina.

It’s been years, Oz. Your body is healed… mostly.

Deciding I need a glass of water, I walk out of my room and to the kitchen before stopping in front of the stairs and looking up. My mind goes to Jackson and his truck. The way he let me hug him and cry, the way he made sure I felt safe. And I did. I can’t remember a time I felt that safe before, especially since what has happened. My brain catches up just as I reach Jackson’s door. I knock lightly and then wince. What am I doing? It’s the middle of the night, and he’s probably sleeping.

I’m about to walk away when the door opens, and Jackson’s massive, shirtless body leans on the door frame. His shoulder-length brown hair is loose and messy from his pillow. Did I mention he’s shirtless? Because… fuck, those powerful working muscles and that chest hair that carries on down his abs…

“Tink?” His voice is groggy, and it sends butterflies to my stomach. “What’s up?”

“Can I come in?” I ask quickly and then wince. “No, never mind, I-I’m sorry, I’m an idiot. I don’t–”

“Shhhh…” He waves his hand. “Girl, it’s the middle of the night. I ain’t got that kind of brain power yet.” He opens his door wider and steps aside to let me in before closing the door and turning on the light. His room is quite large. It’s very similar to my old room. A sitting area where Bear and Rocky are sleeping on a couch and then his room with… a window.

“You people and your windows,” I mutter as I avoid looking at the blackness outside.

“Most people like the scenery.” He yawns while opening his water bottle and taking a sip.

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