When Oscar's flight landed in Kingsport, he wasn't at all surprised to find it shrouded in clouds and drenched in rain, as if the entire city were as morose and gloomy as the punk felt. But the weather wasn't going to hinder him. Oscar had a plan, and for once, it didn't involve drinking his problems away. He'd let a lot of things get in his way over the years. There had always seemed to be roadblocks between him and happiness, and he was over it. Today, he was going to blast right through them all.

First, however, he needed to figure out how he was going to get there... Literally.

His bike was still at the Gallaghers' estate, all the way over in Baypark, on the opposite side of the city. So, that left Oscar with the lovely option of public transit. The bus wasn't exactly quick or glamorous, but it was cheap, and it'd give him time to work out the details of his plan on his way home.

When he arrived at his apartment complex it felt like ages since he last stepped foot inside the cheap stuffy lobby, he'd even forgotten about the elevator until he was about to hit the call button and saw the 'Out of Order' sign.

The stairs it was...

More time to think, but Oscar didn't wanna think. He wanted to act.

He got to his door, and there was a fresh threat-of-eviction notice taped to it that he snatched on his way inside. He'd deal with that later, if everything went as planned. Entering his apartment was like stepping back in time. Back to before he'd moved in with Max. Back to being him again. Little Turt was still sitting on his dresser with a welcoming glint in his tiny, beaded eyes.

"Thanks for watching the place while I was gone," Oscar said as he pulled out his phone and dialed Charley.

It rang a few times before the other biker picked up.

"Oscar?" There was a skeptical tone to the older man's voice, and a little bit of edge to it, signaling that he was in no mood to be messed with.

"Yeah, who else would it be?"

"Christ, we'd heard the Italians put you six feet under, kid. Good to know they messed that up too. Heh."

"They tried, I'll give em that... Hey, why don't you tell me about all their fuck ups when you come pick me up?"

"Pick you up? Where exactly are you expecting we're going?" Charley wondered hesitantly, clearly not thrilled with the idea of being volunteered before being asked.

"To the club house," Oscar stated flatly.

"You...sure?"

"I'll explain on the way."

It was weird being at the club house again, but Oscar didn't let that show as he strolled confidently inside like he belonged there with Charley at his side.

"Vick here?" Oscar wondered.

"Busy. Your ass is gonna have to wait," one of the new ride-a-longs, who was way too cocky, snipped back.

"Great, then tell him to keep his ass out of Glasspoint. It belongs to me now."

"Heh. You and what army?" an older member scoffed, but Oscar just smiled.

"Pull up and find out," Oscar dared, though his challenge was taken more as an insult than a threat. With his warning issued, he and Charley left.

"I hope you're ready for what happens next. Vick isn't going to take your message well."

"Yeah, I know... I'm not ready yet, but..." He took a long drag from his cigarette before finishing "I will be. Just see how many members you can scalp from the Rejects. I'll handle the rest."

"Should be easy. A lot of them aren't very happy with how Vick's been letting Cartel run our turf," Charley assured, though Oscar knew his age and the fact that he fixed a lot of the member's rides for favors easily made him one of the most influential members of the Gang. He couldn't just rely on Charley though, they'd need enough men to stand off whatever was left of the rejects if Vick did come calling.

"Great, then I'll see you tonight for our first job. I still got one more stop to make...but first, I need a new ride." Oscar flicked his cigarette onto the sidewalk and stamped it out before they both got back into Charley's old truck. He used it mostly for pulling trailers or when the weather was too shitty for his bike.

"So, you going to lift one?" Charley wondered.

"Kind of..." Oscar tossed back.

Was it really stealing if it was given to him?

He wondered that even as he punched in the passcode for the gate. With most of the Gallagher family still out of town, he didn't expect the guards to be on high alert, and they weren't. Seeing Oscar wasn't exactly out of the ordinary for them, anyway, so it was easy enough to spin up a story that at least allowed him to drive the bike out the front gates without anyone even trying to stop him.

"I'll be damned... You have been fucking around with the mob," Charley stated with a whistle as he watched Oscar bend over and yank the tracker that Max had put on the bike free.

"Kind of, but not anymore... I'm ready to stand on my own two feet."

He didn't hate Max.

Far from it, but he couldn't live his life sitting in the bitch seat. That just wasn't who Oscar Bradley was. He tossed the tracker out into the grass and then put on his helmet.

"See you tonight!"

It was weird pulling up to Club Max during the day; no long lines, no lights, no girls, just an empty street and a back-alley door with a bouncer. Of course, it had to be Club Max. It felt like everything in Oscar's life had the Mafia Prince's mark left on it in some way. He couldn't not think about him, no matter how hard he tried.

"What's your business?" the bouncer asked, directing his dark sunglasses towards the punk.

"Need to talk to Deshawn," Oscar said, and there was a pause as the two of them stared each other down, the bouncer trying to decide if Oscar was worth bothering over or if he should just tell him that Deshawn wasn't in, or if Oscar could prove that he worth the leader's time. "I'm Marcus Gallagher's friend."

Damn. He hated having to resort to using Max's name, but it worked.

"Aight, jus'a minute..." The bouncer pulled out his cell and put it to his ear. "Marcus Gallagher's friend's here? Huh, yeah. Aight." He hung up and pulled open the door then motioned with his head.

After Oscar had slid inside, the heavy door shut behind him, plunging him into darkness and forcing him to remove his sunglasses so his eyes could focus in the dim lighting. This was different from going through the front doors. The long narrow hallway left him with only one path forward that ended in turning up some stairs and, when he got to the top, there was a room where Deshawn and several other people were sitting.

"Bradley, wasn't it?" Deshawn said, glancing over a smart pair of designer reading glasses. "Thought you and the little mama were on vacation..."

"Heh. No rest for the wicked," Oscar replied as he strode a little closer.

"Ain't that the truth..."

"I was wondering if you'd be interested in seeing the Devil's Rejects knocked down a peg."

Deshawn's eyes narrowed. Oscar definitely had the attention of everyone in the room. "I certainly would," Deshawn purred. "What'd you have in mind?"

"I'm looking to start up my own motorcycle club in Glasspoint, I figured we could help each other out."

"Your own Club?" Deshawn nodded some, "Out with the old guard and in with the new, huh?" He motioned towards a chair that was quickly vacated for Oscar. "Take a seat. Let's hear what I can do for you..."

Max had spent most of the rest of his forced vacation either drunk, high, or both. Not enough that he was overly obnoxious, but definitely enough to blur his emotions into a buzzing numbness at the back of his thoughts.

That wasn't at all an option when they returned home, though.

So, instead, Max kept himself laser-focused on work and whatever his dad asked of him—which mainly consisted of finding and hunting down the guys heading the cartel in Kingsport.

He'd made Luke an unwitting participant in that little endeavor before ending the douche bag for having the sheer audacity to bring up Oscar.

Hearing his punk's name on a sleazy thug like Luke's lips triggered something in Max.

And sure, thinking of Oz as his at this point was probably delusional at best, but when it came down to it, he wasn't ready to let the idea of them go. Not yet.

Even after Luke had claimed Oscar was back with the Devil's Rejects...the other group—aside from the now mostly neutralized cartel—still standing in the way of them securing the loyalty of Davenport and the rest of the city's prominent politicians from the Italians...

But as Max crossed off the last cartel name from his list while the shithead bled out next to his car against the backdrop of a bright red sunrise, he still wasn't satisfied with the fact that he didn't know how to win Oz back...or if it was even possible to.

He and Oz had exchanged a couple of calls and texts since their breakup, but nothing significant. They'd both been too busy for that or to meet up. Oscar had his bike, so that was good at least...Max had found the tracker and had admittedly been worried. But he hadn't heard much about the Rejects lately...probably thanks to him and Darren picking off the cartel. Every criminal in the city seemed to be laying lower...maybe fearing they'd be next.

When Max pulled into the garage at his family's estate around noon, he noticed another car was there, but couldn't place a name or face to the burnt orange BMW until he'd made his way upstairs...

"...But why would you be talking to him again?"

Max paused in front of Elise's door. Yameena's accent was unmistakable.

"Tell me everything," she added.

Elise replied, but Max couldn't make out what his sister had said, and leaned closer, pressing his ear against the door.

"Baap re baap! He didn't get you pregnant then leave, did he?!"

"Nooo, no! Nothing like that."

"Are you sure? Actually, you couldn't be sure this early. Maybe he did!"

"I'm not pregnant..."

"Then why would you put yourself through communicating again? Just leave it in the past."

"We didn't split on bad terms or anything. He's still my friend."

"No, no, no, no, Dear. Boys like him don't want to be friends. Not with a girl like you. They always want more than that."

Max pulled away from the door...

So, Oz was still talking to Elise too?

The weirdest contrast of emotions clashed inside of him; elation, jealousy, relief...

Maybe it was simply a testament to his own stubbornness, or maybe it really was love, because as he quietly closed the door to his bedroom, and sunk down onto the bed he rarely slept in, there was one emotion that distinctly rose to the top... Hope.

Maybe...maybe he had a chance to set things right...

But he also knew there was only one way he truly could... Only one thing he could do...

At dinner everyone was fairly quiet.

Max had to hand it to Elise, she played off having been broken up with well. She still wasn't showing up to family meals as dressed up as usual, and it didn't look like she was wearing any makeup, not that that made her any less beautiful.

He took a drink and cleared his throat. "There's something I've been meaning to say, that I wanted you all here for..." Max started.

His pulse had to be in the range that people stroke out in. Everyone had looked up, with gazes ranging from mild curiosity to polite impassiveness...except for Elise.

"I think Oscar would be a smart addition to the business."

James stopped chewing. Swallowed.

The silence between them as Max and his dad stared at each other somehow felt incredibly loud.

"We don't talk about that at the table," James said flatly.

"Besides, why would you do that to your sister?" their mother questioned. "He left her, he doesn't need to be hanging around here."

"Oz didn't break up with Elise," Max found his little sister's eyes from across the table. He swallowed thickly, and swore she just barely nodded at him through that concerned pout.

Their mom set her fork down. "What does that mean?"

"...He broke up with me," Max said, exhaling and downing the rest of his glass of Pinot Grigio before looking back at his dad, who didn't seem like he'd moved a single muscle.

"You ran off your own friend?" Gloria balked in disbelief. "Why would you do something so selfish-"

"He was my boyfriend." Max swallowed thickly, the hairs on the back of his neck prickling as he dared to look toward the end of the table at his da, who was deathly silent. "...He'd just had his fill of hiding it," Max added, steeling his nerves. "And so have I..."

Who's ready to see James' reaction next chapter? 🫣 And what do you think of Oscar forming his own motorcycle gang?? 👀

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