He didn’t know shit about Boston. And unless Shay wanted otherwise, he wouldn’t be there long enough to learn anything about it, either.
He wasn’t there for a tour, he was there to fight for her. To take back the woman who should be his.
Luckily, her small complex had its own lot. He was able to back his sled into a spot where he shared a space with a damn Yamaha. That crotch rocket might get the jump on his machine with the initial speed, but it was nothing compared to the rumble and ride of his 883 for the long haul.
He shut his Harley down and stared over his shoulder at the building for a moment, wondering which apartment was her unit and hoping it was one with lights on inside, an indication she was home.
With a deep bolstering breath, he swung his leg over the sled and walked right up to the double glass doors. He pulled on the handle first to see if it was locked. It was. A large speaker and one of those buzzer panels were attached to the brick to the right of the door. That meant he’d need to be buzzed in.
Shit.
What if she shut him out before he even had the chance to talk to her?
He would wait there. Right on those brick steps. Wait until she came out or had him arrested for harassment. Or for trespassing.
Whatever.
But he would wait until he couldn’t wait any longer.
He scanned the names on the panel and found Shay’s. DIGGS.
Fucking Darren Diggs.
Shay had loved that asshole enough to marry him, then the stupid motherfucker fucked it all up. Tossed her away like she didn’t fucking matter.
She mattered.
To Ozzy, she fucking mattered. He just needed to convince her of that.
He stabbed at the button next to her name.
Silence greeted him.
He jabbed it a second time and waited while the deafening sound of an invisible clock ticked in his head.
Still… no answer.
He glanced up and around to see if there was a camera and she wasn’t answering because she could see it was him. But if she did and wouldn’t even give him the courtesy of a shouted, “Go away and leave me the fuck alone,” then he would plant his ass right there for the duration.
For him to leave, he would need to hear directly from her that she could never forgive him. That she’d never get past what he’d done. Or she could never live or love him because of it.
Then, and only then, he’d mount his sled again and head wherever the road took him.
He didn’t care where.
Because no matter where he landed, it would never be where he wanted to be. It wouldn’t be where Shay was.
He stared at the panel again. Maybe the buzzer wasn’t working.
He pressed his finger to her button again, this time leaning on it. He’d ring that fucker until he left her no choice but to buzz him in or at least tell him to fuck off through the speaker.
After five long fucking minutes, he still didn’t get a response.
“Fuck!” he barked and dragged both hands down his face, trying not to lose his shit. If he began to bellow into the night like a madman, he would get arrested.
To burn off some of his frustration he jogged down the three brick steps and to the sidewalk out front, where he began to pace while he smoked a hand-rolled.
Twenty minutes later a vehicle pulled up into one of the numbered spots. He grumbled a curse under his breath when he saw it wasn’t Shay’s Lexus and a man got out carrying two large pizza boxes.
Fuck yeah. Something might be going his way. Finally.
Ozzy rushed to the door and offered to hold it open for him since the guy’s hands were full.
While the man buzzed himself in, he cautiously asked, “Are you here to see someone?”
“Yeah. Friend of mine. Waitin’ for her to get home.”
The man eyed up Ozzy’s cut. “Well, I’m sorry, but it’s against the building’s rules to let you in. For safety reasons, the person you’re visiting will have to do that. I’m sure you understand.”
Fuck. He figured that shit would happen. “Understand, brother. Just wanted to help you out.”
The tall man hesitated. “Thank you. Hopefully your friend shows up soon.”
Hopefully.
“Have a good one,” Ozzy said with a tip of his head and he released the door.
After the man turned to head toward the elevator at the other side of the tiny lobby, Ozzy stuck the very edge of his boot between the doors before it closed completely behind the guy. He twisted his body enough so if the guy looked back, it would only look as if Ozzy was leaning against the glass panel, patiently waiting for his “friend.”
Once he heard the muffled ding of the elevator, he snuck a peek over his shoulder to see the metal doors sliding shut. As soon as they did, Ozzy jammed his toe farther into the slight gap in the door, then opened it enough to slip inside.