The flashing orange lights and barricades signaled the road work just ahead, along with the backed-up line of headlights and tail lights tightly packed together, since all but one lane in either direction were closed.

Oscar had to make a sharp, last minute turn, ramping up onto a sidewalk, zooming past pedestrians to squeeze through an alley that came out on the parallel street. He didn't see any of the other bikers until a few minutes and several turns later, when he spotted one of the familiar leather jackets veering off the surface street onto the gravel that ran alongside the train tracks.

The gravel wasn't great to drive on, but it would have been nearly impossible for a car to follow. Stacks of railroad ties, empty trailers, and various other hindrances made the area beside the tracks an obstacle course. He had a pretty good idea now of where the other Reject was going.

After another block, they'd officially crossed over from downtown into Commerce City and Oscar followed the biker into an old metal structure right on the edge of the rail yard.

Before the biker could get the door shut, Oscar came skidding into the garage, and now Oscar could see that it was Bill he'd been tailing.

"Oscar?!" Bill said as Oscar killed the engine. "Shit, man, where you been?"

The punk's mind drifted to the gun in his jacket, but Bill's inflection alone told him that it wasn't necessary.

"Stuck between the ass cheeks of the fucking mob," Oscar snapped back lazily as he swung his leg off the bike. "Where the hell do you think I've been? Vacation?"

That was when Bill's expression changed. He recognized the bike. It wasn't Oscar's, and now his one brain cell was working overtime to decipher what he was seeing...

Bill's hand could move considerably faster than his head, and when he pulled his gun, Oscar did the same.

"Where's Greg?" Bill demanded.

"Right where you left him," Oscar answered.

"What the fuck is going on?"

"Funny, I had the same question," Oscar said, licking his lip as he realized he'd left the fucking safety on.

"You'd know, if you showed up every once and awhile, instead of pissing around with the goddamned mob! What's next, going to go to the cops?"

"That's just fucking disrespectful," Oscar spat as he pulled his gun back and held up his hands. "You drew on me first, ya dumb ox!" Bill was mean and dumb, but Oscar knew he wasn't a killer...or at least he was sure enough to risk putting his gun away.

"Wull, what am I supposed ta do? Ya get involved with the mob, and disappear and then Vick goes off his nut and starts working with the Italians and the Cartel-"

"Wait, Vick's working with who?"

"Shit, you really have been out of the loop for a minute..." Bill exhaled and finally tucked his own piece back into his belt. "Yeah, Vick made some sort of deal with the Italians and now the fucking Cartel are crawling all over the west side, and he isn't doing nothing to stop it. Just says ta keep our distance."

"So, you just decided to shoot up the Royal's Club for shits and giggles, then?"

"Nah, it was just a distraction,"

"For what?"

"How the hell am I supposed ta know? Vick tells me and some guys to go raise hell, that's what we go do. I don't fucking ask for an essay on why."

Oscar sighed. "Right..."

Bill was like a lot of the members, more interested in looking capable and loyal to the gang than asking questions. But it was also weird that they would just leave one of their own laying in the street like they had...

That wasn't the Devil's Rejects he knew. That wasn't the family he'd been excited to become a part of.

"Where are you going? You wanna ride back together?" There was this odd hopefulness in Bill's tone that Oscar recognized. Bill was just as worried about what was going on as he was, but there was something bigger going on here...

"Actually, here..." Oscar tucked the gun into his belt, and slipped off his leather jacket and tossed it to Bill. "Give Vick a middle finger for me."

"Are you seriously just–" Bill didn't even try to catch the jacket, just watched it hit the floor between them. "Oscar! Hey! HEY! You really just gonna walk away like that? Where the fuck is your loyalty, you cunt!? Oscar!"

Oscar should have really thought this through. Now, he had to travel through the rail yard, on foot, at night, until he was at a place where he could text Max some street names...

For a while he was sure Bill might come after him—maybe with some other gang members as backup, now that Bill knew he was armed... That any moment, while he was waiting under the streetlamp, he'd hear the rumble of choppers coming around the corner...

But they never did.

Instead, the street around him was eerily vacant until he saw Max's big black car with tinted windows roll right up to the curb.

Oscar hadn't even fully gotten seated before Max questioned him.

"Are you okay?" Max asked, stealing glances at him as he drove. "What happened?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine..." Oscar didn't know how else to answer Max right away... Sure, physically he was fine. But his mind was still all over the place. He really couldn't go back to the gang now, and that was an odd feeling... "The club was a distraction."

"The what?" Max blurted before realizing what Oscar was on about. But Max couldn't have cared less about the club at that moment. Finding Oz alone there, on the corner of a filthy dark street—no bike...no shades, no jacket. It'd rattled him. He didn't like seeing Oz look so vulnerable. In fact, he fucking hated it. "Oh. Yeah–uhm–a distraction. Did you find out what for?" he asked, navigating back towards the highway and checking the time on his dash.

"Hard to say, but I bet it has to do with why he's been allowing the Cartel on their turf..." Oscar murmured as he stole a glance across the cab at Max before looking back out the window. The Royals, the Cartel, the Devil's rejects...something was going on. Something big.

Max assumed Oscar was referring to his gang's leader, but the absence of Oz's jacket and his wording—their turf, rather than, our turf—felt pretty telling of what seemed to be the end of Oz's career as a Reject...which was just as well to Max.

"They could've been left out of this, if it wasn't for Rufino," Max said. "They'd have kept their noses down like the Royals do, but you stealing his car gave that slimy bitch an in, and now the fucking Italians are probably putting pressure on them." Max huffed out a sigh through his nose. "They've figured out that we've been using the Royals to narc on them to the feds. Get their shipments raided and seized... But they aren't just running fuckin' drugs and knock-off olive oil anymore, Oz. They're running weapons. Lots of them." Max wasn't sure why he was venting this to Oscar. He still didn't want him involved.

"Ah. Yeah..." Oscar sounded distant, or distracted, but really he didn't understand what the big deal was. Every faction had illegal drugs and weapons in some way.

Oscar's reaction confused Max. Or maybe it was that Oz was confused. For some reason, that really got under Max's skin. "They're trying to choke out our business—gaining too much of a foothold for Da's liking. Especially now that they're trying to weasel their fucking way into the laps of Kingsport's politicians too. We can't lose friends like Davenport. Not to the Italians. They'll get bold enough to think they can take the whole city..." Max looked over at Oscar a few more times now that they were back on the highway, headed towards Baypark. "...Are you sure you're alright? We can stop by KMH... Get you checked out." Oz didn't appear injured, but it wasn't like he could check his punk for a concussion while he was driving.

"It's just not like them to leave a guy behind like that..." Oscar finally blurted out. "You know... For years, Victor rubbed me the wrong way. Sure, he talked about the club rules and creed all the time, even had the balls to lecture me on them, but now he's leaving his own guys—family—to die in the street, all while the cartel and mob do whatever they want on their turf, and that was the last straw..."

Max was quiet. He didn't know what to say, but he had at least realized that their heads were in two totally different spaces right now. "Look...you don't owe anyone an explanation, Oz. If you were ready to leave the gang, then you were ready. You don't need them. You've got me, okay? And I swear to god, I'll never abandon you like that. So...let's just get home, and unwind... We can have some dinner, watch some movies or sports or something... Sound like a plan?"

Maybe it was just saying it out loud that had allowed Oscar to let go of what was bothering him... A small remnant of his smile from the club earlier returned to Oscar's face. "Yeah," he agreed. "That sounds awesome."

About two and a half hours later, Max and Oz were lounging in the family room downstairs, with a movie on the big flat screen, bowls of popcorn, and drinks. Most of the lights on that level of the house were off, and most of the staff had already left for the night. Max had swapped out his chinos for a pair of sweatpants that looked way better on him than what should ever be allowed, and he'd shed his band shirt about thirty minutes into the movie as well.

This was nice. Yeah, he'd have a lot to deal with later, but he was definitely enjoying just being home and relaxing with Oz... Normal shit, that they hadn't had much time for lately. He just hoped this was helping Oz unwind as well.

For Oscar, things were slowly on their way back to normal, though he wasn't sure what his new normal was going to be just yet. Would it be him pretending to be Elise's boyfriend by day and Max's lover by night from now on? It didn't seem like a bad setup, he liked Max and got along well with his sister. Maybe he'd even allow himself to start calling the Gallagher residence home some day soon, but it still didn't feel right just yet.

The punk leaned into Max a little bit more, now that he knew that they and Elise were the only ones left in the house, until Marcus's parents and Angela returned anyway. But it wasn't any use, his jeans keep restricted his movements and finally he just gave in and stood up. "Be right back, I need to change too," he told Max as he left the living room and headed for the stairs.

He jogged to his room and then suddenly stopped as he got to the door. He was already thinking of it as 'his room' not 'the guest room'. A small smirk pulled at the corner of his mouth as he rubbed his chin and then headed to 'his' closet. Maybe he'd start calling this place home faster than he thought.

A few moments later he emerged, in some red and black basketball shorts and a black tank top. He was heading back to the stairs when a sound caught his attention. It wasn't the TV, but it sounded like music, but not the kind from a radio, it sounded...classy? Like the music he'd heard when he and Max had gone to the theater. For a moment, he considered the dark hallways and the late hour, and thought this was definitely how a horror movie kill would be set up, but followed the sound regardless.

When it brought him to Elise's door, he was a little bit relieved and surprised? He thought he could remember Max mentioning that Elise played, and he'd seen her holding the violin for her photo shoot, but he'd never actually connected those dots in his head to the fact that she'd obviously have to practice somewhere.

He stood there for a long moment just getting lost in the sound. He wondered what it was like to be good at something in the way that Elise and Henry were, to have a real talent instead of an insatiable death wish and dumb luck.

At some point while Oscar was lost in his thoughts, the playing must have stopped, because Elise suddenly opened her door, gasping at their indeed being someone there, but sighing in relief at seeing who it was. "What are you doing?" she asked, leaning close to him to peek both ways down the hall, not noticing anyone else. "Oh! Was I playing too loud? I can stop, since it's getting late."

"No!" Oscar said quickly and then panicked a little at how rushed the response sounded. "No, I was just going to ask if you wanted to come watch a movie with us?"

Elise tilted her head slightly and her smile brightened her whole face. "...With you and Marc?" she asked as she backpedaled away from the door and turned to go put her violin back in its case. "Are you sure? I mean...it's not very often you two have alone time here at the house," said, reaching up to adjust her ponytail. Even though Elise wasn't tall by any means, the little high-waisted shorts she was in made her legs look long, and accentuated her hips, and there was just enough space between the waistband of the shorts and the hem of her cropped tee that when she did raise her arms, it exposed a moderate expanse of her smooth belly and torso.

Oscar played with his tongue ring nervously, he knew he shouldn't be looking at Max's sister the way he was, but that fact alone made it impossible for him to stop. "Heh, sometimes it feels illegal..." Oscar grinned as he recalled the chaos that seemed to follow him and Max, from a simple chair breaking to an entire club being shot up, to a man nearly being tossed off the side of a skyscraper. "But no, if we really wanted to be alone, we could just head to his room," the punk assured.

At his reassurance she rose up onto the balls of her feet for a second, clasping her hands, and briefly wringing her fingers, as if she had to physically do something to express some of her excitement. She genuinely seemed really pleased just to be invited to spend time with them. "So, what are we watching?" she wondered as she motioned for him to lead the way out of her room.

"Oh, it's called Under Cover Grandma," Oscar explained, he didn't figure it was one of those movies anyone watched for quality, but to mock and talk through mostly.

Max raised a brow when he realized it sounded like Oscar wasn't returning alone, and he lowered his drink to see his sister had come down stairs too. "Whatchya need, El?"

Elise paused just behind the couch, glancing at Oscar, who Max, in turn, looked at as well.

"I invited Elise, don't think she's got to see much of you today and I hogged you at the club already." the punk said plopping down next to Max.

"Is...that okay?" Elise asked, no doubt motivated by her brother's expression.

But Max recovered quickly. "Of course it is, dork. Come get comfy. Grab a drink. A snack. Whatever sounds good..."

Elise chuckled, beaming as she plucked one of the throw pillows off the couch and sat down next to her brother, folding her legs up close and resting her arms on the pillow. "No romantic comedy or costume drama?" she teased.

"I've got a couple in the line up," Max said, resting his arms over the back of the couch. "Oz is into horrors though, so we might be putting on something scary later too, right Oz?"

"Oh yeah, The Snacker! I've been wanting to see that one," Oscar said before tossing a piece of popcorn in the air above his head and then trying to catch it. He missed, but that didn't stop him from popping it into his mouth anyway and trying again.

Were you surprised that Oz actually quit the gang? 😲 Any predictions as to what's gonna happen next?

Also, did you catch the reference in this chapter to one of my short stories? 👀 *not me shamelessly plugging* 😂🥲

Shout out to whathepeach ! Thanks so much for your support!!