Ozzy

“OZZY!”

Aiden’s voice carries up the stairs and into my bedroom, where I’m still lying in bed. Haven’t slept for hours, but haven’t moved either. I turn my head away from the door.

“Ozzy!”

“Go away,” I whisper. I’m in no mood to play nice. It’s been days since I’ve seen McKenna, and each one gets harder to get through.

“There you are.”

I turn onto my side, away from him, grumbling, “Can’t you take a hint?”

“Come on, wake up.” He shakes the bed, followed by Bans’s barking from down the hall.

“Great. Now you’ve woken her up.”

The golden retriever jumps onto the bed and puts her doggie breath all up in my grill. Backing away, I say, “It’s too early for this shit.”

“But not for this.” Aiden tosses a magazine on top of me.

Flicking it to the side, I say, “Whatever. Don’t you have something else to do besides bother the piss out of me?”

“Nope.”

The rustling of pages being flipped reaches my ears. Sighing, I turn over and throw my arm over my face.

“Here it is.” Aiden makes a weird-ass sound in the back of his throat.

And, nothing.

Moving my arm to the side, a huge photo of me is on the front cover. “Great. What did that rag print about me now?” I sit up, resting my back against the padded headboard. Listless, I look out the window, my mind blank. Empty. Like my life.

“Ahem.” Aiden brings me out of my musing.

Waving at him, I instruct, “Go ahead. Let’s hear their lies.”

He shakes the tabloid. “It’s not what you think.” He shows me the photos and reads a lurid tale about McKenna and Matt, ending with her father being killed. “Seems to us that Ozzy is well rid of this modern-day Lizzie Borden.” He finishes and looks at me.

My mind is everywhere and nowhere all at once. “She never mentions her father. I assumed he wasn’t in the picture.” A fragment of a conversation rises to the top. “No, wait. That’s not true. She did mention he used to take her to Edie Z’s for a chocolate every week.”

Silence falls over the room, the only sound being Bans’s snoring. Ignoring the fluff-ball, I shift in the bed. Anger overtakes me. “Why the fuck didn’t she talk to me about this? Oh, right. How was she going to tell me that she killed her own father?” I adopt a high-pitch tone. “By the way, I happened to hand my boyfriend a knife, which he stuck into my father.”

Aiden drops the rag onto my bed.

I shake my head. None of this meshes with the woman I know. “This doesn’t add up.”

“Maybe they got it wrong. Fuck knows, they mess stuff up all the time.”

The need to get to the bottom of this gnaws in the pit of my stomach. I can’t believe she killed her own father—she doesn’t have it in her. But then again, I didn’t think she had it in her to cheat on me either, so what do I know? When I can’t take all of the unanswered questions ramming my brain, I toss the blankets off my nude body and stalk into the bathroom. “Can you take care of Bans for me today? I have to find out what all this is about.”

“I thought you might say that.” Aiden holds up her leash. “C’mon Bans, let’s go for a walk.”

I shower and dress in shorts and a Las Vegas T-shirt. Stopping in the kitchen, I make myself a protein shake. Each whirl of the blender fuels my anger toward the woman I thought I was falling in love with. Ha! What a freaking shit-show that would be. Maybe I should send some flowers to the tabloid for doing me a favor. She makes Teresa look like a saint.

But that’s not the McKenna I know.

Shoving my head into my helmet, I hop on Shirley and barrel toward her house. She better have a good explanation about all this. And, more importantly, why she didn’t she tell me about it ages ago?

Something’s really off.

I pull into her driveway and ring the bell. When no one answers, I knock loudly enough to wake the neighborhood. A woman I’ve never met answers. She looks me up and down. “Can I help you?”

I widen my stance. “I need to talk with McKenna right now.”

From inside the house, another woman’s voice sings, “Who’s that?” The woman in front of me half-turns and replies to McKenna’s mother, “A man looking for McKenna.”

“A man? My little McKenna’s too young to know any men. Send him away.”

The woman at the door shuts her eyes, steps outside and closes the door behind her, forcing me to take a step backward. “Now’s not a good time. Ozzy, right?”

I blink. I never introduced myself. Yeah, but it’s not like all of Vegas doesn’t know who you are, dude. “I need to talk with McKenna. Send her out to me.”

The middle-aged woman shakes her head. “She’s not here.”

I cross my arms across my chest. “I’ll wait.”

Not a shrinking violet, this woman puts her hands on her hips. “I don’t know how long she’ll be gone. Why don’t you leave and I’ll tell her you visited when she returns?”

I laugh. “Yeah. I’m sure you will. Who are you, anyway?”

Her posture shifts. “Elaine. And might I add that I have more right to be here than you do.”

Maybe I can take advantage of my charm with the ladies. “Well, Elaine, it looks like we’re at an impasse. I have some unfinished business with McKenna. So, let me in and I’ll happily wait until she gets back. Okay?” I wink at her.

“I can’t let you do that.”

Frustration rages through my bloodstream. “Listen, Elaine, I’m working on a short fuse. If McKenna’s not here, where the hell is she at,” I consult my watch, “eleven in the morning?”

The rumbling of a car pulling into the driveway diverts our attention. A man steps out—I recognize him from the tabloid photospread. Matt.

Next to me, Elaine sucks in her breath.

When he sees me at the front door, he puts his head down and rushes up the sidewalk, yelling, “You. You’ve been fucking my girlfriend.” Stopping half a foot away from me, he pushes against my chest.

“What the fuck?” I push him back.

The front door opens behind Elaine. McKenna’s mom stands in the open doorway, wearing a bathrobe. “What’s going on here?”

“Let’s take this inside,” Matt says and pushes me toward Elaine. I catch her before she and McKenna’s mother fall over, and Matt rushes by us. Once all four of us are inside, he slams the door shut.

Ignoring the two women, Matt turns his attention to me. “Thought after your stunt at the Big Reveal that you two were over.” He looks me up and down. “Guess I was wrong.” He cracks his knuckles. “Looks like I’m going to have me some fun.”

McKenna’s mom shrieks, “Who are these strange men! Get out of my house!” Neither Matt nor I turn our heads in her direction. Elaine hushes her and pulls her into the interior of the house.

“Come here, pretty boy.” He makes a “come hither” motion with his fingers.

Notching up my chin, I refuse to let him get the best of me. If my boyhood fights in Puerto Rico taught me anything, it was how to keep my wits. “You first.”

My stillness on the outside belies the blood surging against my veins’ walls. I’m pissed at McKenna—pissed at the world—and this guy might provide me with a much-needed outlet.

Matt lunges at me, but I duck and he misses. His next three punches score my face in rapid succession, which only enrages me further.

Weaving to avoid his next two attempts, he hits nothing but air. Spitting blood onto the carpet, I gloat, “Missed.”

He roars and rushes me again, pushing me backward and over a table. A lamp crashes to the floor.

A female voice screams.

On top of me, Matt pulls his arm back. As if in slow motion, it screams toward me, but I wrap my legs around his waist and twist at the same time.

His hand punches the carpet and I take advantage of his momentary discombobulation, arching my back upward to dislodge him. I jump to my feet a second before he stands in front of me. We’re both breathing hard, focused on taking the other out.

He does a roundhouse swing at me that narrowly misses. I step forward into a right hook and connect with his jaw, sending his face flying to the left. I follow it up with a left jab and he stumbles backward.

Seeing as to how we don’t have much room, and aware of the women somewhere inside, I put my head down and run him into the wall by the torso. Stupefied, he blinks. I grab his wrist, wrap it up high behind him and pull. Hard. His only response is a grunt.

His foot contacts my shin. Not letting go of his wrist, I step to the side before he can try a second kick. And push him downward.

Sirens screech down the street. Elaine rushes by us and opens the front door, pointing to us. “Him! That’s him. The one bending over.”

I look down at the man gulping air and pull on his arm once again. The cop approaches us. “We’ll take it from here, sir.” He clinks a pair of metal handcuffs.