Page 227 of Chaos Kills

And I’m going to ream his ass out.

New rule, no guns in the fucking house.

Except mine, because it’s—well, Ozzy bought the house, but I’m on the title, so how does that work? Ozzy hasn’t shown any interest in living here or making himself at home but randomly showing up making tree houses and shit. Legally it’s mine, but it still feels like his.

I’m finally able to wedge my body between Ozzy’s gun and Travis. My heart racing a million beats a second because guns…I might hold the world record on how many I’ve had on me in the last few days, maybe?

Probably not.

But it’s a record for me, nonetheless.

“Go ahead and get out of here, Trav,” I initiate, holding back a comment about how I’ll text or call him later to explain all this. The shorter our conversation, the quicker he can get out.

“Bay—”

“I’m good,” I promise, holding Ozzy’s blank blue eyes. “He’s not going to hurt me.”

Sure about that? We’ve been putting our trust into too many bodies lately.

“Should I call?—”

“No.”

He wants to call Levi, but I don’t need him here. Not for Ozzy anyway, but Ellie is going to be a whole other story.

Ozzy’s eyes follow, what I assume is Travis, along with his gun which I step in the way of again.

His eyes narrow, clearly irritated that I’m blocking his shot, but he doesn’t look at me, and I didn’t ask for him to come in here with it drawn out acting crazy.

It feels like forever and a day before I hear the front door close with a soft click.

“You hadnoright to do that,” I chide. “My word and what I say should be enough for you to drop the gun.”

Silence.

Shocker.

And I’m not about to stand here all night and wait for him to say something—anything—to either make it right or apologize.

Stepping aside to get the fuck out of here, Ozzy is already standing there, blue eyes incandescent in annoyance and in my way.

That’d make two of us.

“Move.” Ozzy glowers at me. “What do you have to be pissed about? I wasn’t the one who snuck in here and pointed a gun at my friend. You’re being a dickhead.”

Nothing.

“What are youdoinghere?”

When he doesn’t answer me this time, I step to the side to get around him again, but Ozzy surprises the hell out of me and steps closer, almost pinning me between him and the back of the couch.

“Speak or forever fuck off, Oz. I was in the middle of something. Something that was going to help Levi and I make more money, and you fucked it up.”

He looks down at me under long eyelashes and sharp cheekbones. Faithful strands of black hair gather up and over one of his eyes.

I want to punch him in the damn face.

“I get it,” I grind out, flexing my fingers into tight balls. “Psychological warfare. You’re tryin’ to make me lose my shit by not talking to me.” I shove him, for several reasons other than he’s pissing me off, but mostly to get him to move. “Whateveryou have spun in that fucked-up head, don’t do that or anything else like that again.”

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