Page 175 of Chaos Kills

“Go ahead and try.”

She scoffs. “Like Ozzy is going to do anything to me. He’s my sloppy seconds, sweetheart. That boy was so head over heels in love with me it was fucking stupid.”

That statement almost knocks me on my ass.

How the hell are they linked up?

“Funny,” I muse, but I can’t help but clench my jaw while she keeps that cocky smirk on her face. “He never mentioned you when he was balls deep inside me.”

She doesn’t ask me who I’m talking about when she lunges for me, which is concerning. How the hell is she, in any way, connected to my legal husband?

“Careful, Muncy.” Hot Rod suddenly shows up behind her, grabbing both her wrists to keep from swinging at me again, and I release her because we’ve got to go. “If I hit her, I hit you, and I’ll break something.”

He shoves her to the side and comes up to wrap his arm around my shoulder to get us back to the car.

I swear I can see steam coming from her ears, but I take the welcome out. If I don’t, I’m going to catch an assault charge for sure.

All I was doing was trying to grab a cake for Ellie for this little dinner I had planned tonight and some bowling afterward. However, now, I have to ask Ozzy how he’s associated with Satan’s bitch.

These towns are too damn small.

FORTY

bay

“Stop causing problems for me,Little Terror.”

The warning is all grounded out, stamped in all gauged ears, sharp jawline, dark hair, and tan skin.

There’s only one person who calls me that, one person who is stupid enough to show up in South Shore without a shit in the world besides Torin and Reeve because they believe they own the fucking world.

I flick my eyes up to meet Ozzy across the kitchen island from me, sipping on a fucking juice box while my back is to the door.

No reaction, no cares, not one fuck given.

“This isn’t an open house where you fuckers can just walk in,” I rebuke as I nail my glare on my husband even though the comment is meant for Cairo. “I’m going to buy a dog.”

I should’ve done that months ago.

“Make sure it’s several,” Cairo conveys with ire in his tone, matching my irritation.

“Done.” I jerk my thumb over my shoulder with my sole focus still on Ozzy. “Get him out, now.”

I hear the strain of my hardwoods whine as Cairo approaches me, strangling my composure to not lose my entire shit andpluck up the cookie sheet in front of me and bash him upside the head with it.

Ozzy has been sitting here with me for about twenty minutes while my cell on the countertop plays random rock bands, filling in the void of silence—that comes from him.

“happier than ever” by Loveless currently plays, and all I want to do is hook it up to a huge Bluetooth speaker and blare it so loud I can’t hear or see anything.

“I know what you’re doing, Bay.” The smell of leather and mint wafts around me, warning me of his impending distance in my direction. “And if I have to keep warning you, I’m going to have Ozzy lock you up in a basement.”

Ozzy’s full lips wrap around the white straw of his Juicy Juice, and I hope he’s enjoying the show because it’s about to turn into an action flick if he doesn’t get his friend to fuck all the way off me right now.

“We don’t have a basement,” I deadpan. “And I think Levi, who is going to be home soon, by the way, will be very disappointed in my husband if he allows you to touch me.”

Cairo gives me this arrogant little smirk that immediately doesn’t sit well with me. “Oz, will you give us five?”

The faithful scraping of wood-on-wood sounds, and I’m instantly irritated.

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