by N. N. Britt
“I needed to get out of this house,” he said, sounding defeated, then suddenly grabbed my wrist. It wasn’t a tender lover’s touch. It was a stop-it touch. My desire to know he wasn’t harmed annoyed him. I felt it in the vigor of his grip. His eyes closed for a moment, and the expression on his face was a strange mix of confused and mortified. Part of me wanted to yell at him and part of me wanted to wrap my arms around his body and cry like a baby. I did neither.
Instead, I freed my hand from his grasp and stood. I waited for him to move or say something. My pulse raced like the losing horse on a track.
“Come on. Let’s go inside,” I whispered.
No reaction. I got silence in place of a reply.
“Frank?”
His chest rose slowly as he drew in a long, calculated breath through his teeth. “I just lost twenty years of my life’s work, Cassy. I’m not a very pleasant person to be around right now.”
“I understand that and I’m sorry, but you don’t have to do this alone.”
Jaw tight, he turned his head to face me, and his eyes gazed up at me. They were dark and impossible to read. “I do. It’s better that way.”
My head spun in millions of different directions. My heart split right down the middle. At that moment, I understood why he’d experienced a delay during the crash. Shock. He’d never expected it, like I’d never expected him to say the words he’d just blurted out. After everything we’d been through. After everything I’d given up for him.
Hurt swirled in my stomach. I didn’t need to be told twice. I was a smart cookie, as my mother would say. I got the hint. “Fine. If that’s what you want.”
Tears filled my eyes and the staccato beat of my heart made it difficult to talk.
Walk away, Cassy, my pride urged while my brain was trying to come up with a plan of retreat.
There was none. There was only a colossal amount of anger and the need to get out of here. Swallowing down my emotions, I rushed inside and started packing my laptop and my gear. My hands shook, but I kept on shoving everything in my bag without looking. I was mad and disappointed. With myself. With Frank. With life.
Watching a man who had the entire world at his feet and millions of dollars at his disposal sulk over the things he had no control over while he missed out on all the things he could actually control had become tiring.
Unshed tears blurred my vision as I hauled my bag down the stairs and to my Honda. Frank was still inside the Ferrari, withdrawn.
“You want to be alone?” I halted with my chin jerked up. “Fine. Be alone.”
Silence.
“You’ve been shutting me out ever since you came back from the hospital,” I continued, my voice a pathetic wobble. “I’m not an accessory. I’m here for you whenever you need me, whenever you feel down, whenever you’re upset. Please understand, if you’re going through shit, I’m going through it with you. I hurt when you hurt. I bleed when you bleed. I suffocate when you suffocate. I feel every single thing you do, yet you don’t want to let me in. I’m willing to listen to all your secrets, all your desires, and all your pain and take everything with me to the grave, but you won’t talk to me. You keep me at arm’s length from your heart while I’ve willingly given you mine, and it’s driving me nuts, Frank.”
I heard the ragged pull of his breath, but his face remained an impenetrable mask of indifference.
“Look at me, Frank.” My eyes sat on the elegant profile of his face.
He didn’t react.
“Okay. Call me when you’re done being a spoiled, self-centered, testy asshole,” I spat, popping my trunk open.
His silence said it all. Frank Wallace had no idea how to be in a relationship.
Neither did I.
He was my first and probably my last attempt at steady. Fuck men and fuck commitment.
I drove off without saying goodbye to Janet.
A week had passed since my ridiculous fight with Frank. Apparently, my rock star was defective, and as much as I wanted my heart back, I didn’t qualify for a refund.
In his defense, he’d been calling and texting like crazy, threatening me with a daytime visit to ensure enough people saw him in my apartment complex. It was the worst kind of blackmail. He’d even sent Brooklyn with a huge teddy bear with a card that said, “I’m sorry.” Ashton had been roped into helping her bring that thing up the stairs and now the stuffed animal was taking up half the living room. But I didn’t have the heart to throw Teddy away. First, it was too big for a dumpster. Second, it was too cute to give up.
Frank Wallace had gotten under my skin. He’d owned my mind the entire week we’d been apart. Each time I came out of my room, the oversized animal’s grin put a new dent in my pride.
It was the morning of Ashton’s eighteenth birthday when Roman showed up at my front door wearing a jersey and a baseball cap. Still in my pajamas and without a lick of caffeine in my system, I gawked at him through the cracked door and wondered why he was here this early and, further, why he was here at all.
“I don’t have any more room for flowers and stuffed teddy bears,” I blurted out.
“Don’t have any on me, Ms. Evans.” Roman shook his head and peeked inside. “Didn’t you get the message?”
“What message?” I’d pulled an all-nighter working on the email campaign for the potential Dreamcatchers sponsors and had gone to sleep close to sunrise. The last thing I’d cared about when the doorbell woke me was checking my phone.
“Boss would like to take Ashton car shopping.”
“Come again?” I blinked through the fuzz in my brain and threw an over-the-shoulder glance at my brother, who was scrambling to his feet from the couch.
“Mr. Blade’s present for his eighteenth birthday,” Roman explained.
“No! He’s not getting a car from Mr. Blade!” I snapped, ready to shut the door, but it was too late. My brother, who sported only junk food-themed boxers, pushed his way out onto the deck.
He stared at Roman with wide eyes as he stood there in underwear that was covered with soda and burgers. “Are you for real?”
This wasn’t happening!
My mother and I had found a nice 2005 Toyota Corolla in Glendale two days ago and the owner had agreed to hold the car until tomorrow. We planned to tell Ashton about the present tonight during dinner. Frank and his bottomless pit of a wallet were about to ruin our surprise.
Roman’s gaze darted between me and my brother. “Mr. Blade is waiting in the car.”
My heart sputtered.
“Sick.” Ashton grinned. “Give me five minutes, man.”
“I’ll be downstairs.” Roman nodded and glanced at me.
“You’re not going anywhere,” I told Ashton as he breezed past me.
“Eat me, sis.” Ashton shoved his middle finger in my face and slid back inside.
“I won’t allow this!” I growled to the empty space in front of me.
“I’m eighteen. You can’t tell me shit.”
“Fine! Then I need half the rent before the first,” I countered.
“That’s blackmail!” he screamed from the bathroom. “Besides, I’m already working for free.”
“It’s called internship, asshole!”
“It’s called slavery.”
In my peripheral, Roman was cracking up.
“This is unbelievable.” I gritted my teeth.
“We’ll be in the car, Ms. Evans,” he noted before leaving.
“Do I need to bring my social security card?” Ashton yelped from the bathroom as I shut the door and hurried to look for my phone.
“We’re not going anywhere,” I shouted, dialing Frank’s number. My pulse roared and my hands shook.
His voice on the line was sweet and made me ache all over.
“You can’t do this,” I said. “You can’t just show up here unannounced and fuck up my brother’s birthday surprise.”
“You haven’t returned my calls.”
“You wanted to be alone.”
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“Not anymore.”
“It doesn’t work that way, Frank. You hurt me and then send me cheesy presents, hoping a stuffed animal will earn my forgiveness back.”
“You didn’t like the teddy?”
“He’s too big. There’s not enough room for him in my apartment.”
“There is in my house.”
I took a deep breath to defuse the anger rushing through my blood. “I don’t want you to buy Ashton a car.”
“I’m sorry for being an ass.”
“You’re not hearing me, Frank,” I pressed, my voice firm but my legs wobbly. “He needs to learn that nice things only come to those who work hard. Getting him a car right now will undo months of effort. It’s not how you teach someone to be a responsible adult.”
“Please let him have a fun day.”
There was a knock on my door. “Are you ready or what?” Ashton bellowed impatiently and I knew then and there that I didn’t have a choice. It was either let my brother leave with Frank or tag along to ensure he didn’t buy a car he couldn’t drive. Or worse—a motorcycle.
“Okay,” I said into the phone, my tone flat. “You win. I’ll be downstairs in twenty minutes… Actually, make it thirty. I haven’t had my coffee yet.”
“We can buy coffee on the way,” Frank offered.
“I like my home-brewed coffee better.”
“Okay,” he agreed. “I’ll see you in half an hour.”
I took my sweet time getting ready, just to piss him off. There were nine hysteric messages from Ashton on my phone when I finally finished with my hair.
Downstairs, the Escalade waited across the street. Roman hurried to open the back door and I slid inside. Butterflies filled my stomach despite all the anger that still ruled my bloodstream.
Frank was seated next to me. “Hi, Cassy,” he said, flashing me his signature playboy smile, the one he used for the crowds during his shows.
“Hey.” I let my eyes wander over his body. He wore a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. A jacket was thrown over his shoulders, right arm in a sling.
We hardly spoke during the drive. My mind was preoccupied with my mother. I wasn’t sure how to tell her about this.
Hey, Mom! The man who may or may not be my boyfriend just bought Ashton a car for his birthday. You can put the money back into your 401k.
Thinking about the range of her possible reactions gave me whiplash.
Ashton enjoyed the spotlight. After assuming DJ duty, he and Frank launched into a lengthy discussion about the lyrical content of Body Count songs.
We eventually arrived at a car dealership in Beverly Hills. The lot stretched over the entire block and looked unapproachable with its glimmering rows of luxury vehicles that my brother had no business dreaming about, let alone driving.
“Frank,” I muttered over Ice-T’s rapping as we pulled into customer parking. “This is too much.”
Ashton killed the music. The door swung open and the hum of the lot poured inside. He jumped out of the car so fast, I didn’t even get a chance to blink.
Frank remained in his seat, his hand covering mine. He turned to look at me and I heard deep, anxiety-ridden breaths. “Please come back, Cassy.”
The words were a shockwave inside my head. A warm, gooey feeling filled my chest. The man didn’t waste time. He went straight in for the kill, bypassing explanations.
“I thought you said this was a relationship?” I glared at him, dumbfounded. My heartbeat thrummed in my temples.
“Yes. It is.” He stressed the present tense. “And I want you back in my life.”
“But that’s not how relationships work.” A shaky exhale left my lungs. “It’s not always about hot sex and midnight drives to Ventura County. It’s about being there for each other when people are at their lowest. And you don’t let me do that for you when you hit bottom. You shut down and you won’t talk to me.”
I didn’t understand how exactly I knew this since I’d never been in a serious relationship before. My knowledge seemed to have been gathered from my own childhood observations of my parents. Everything my father hadn’t been able to give my mother was what I wanted. And I wanted it from Frank. The whole nine yards. I just didn’t know whether he was capable of giving me the things I longed for.
The real Frank Wallace, the one most Hall Affinity fans didn’t know, was a very complicated man. A man with demons who kept crawling out of their hiding places, and the prospect of meeting them terrified me.
“I wasn’t in a good state of mind, doll,” he said quietly. “I had to let you go because I didn’t want to hurt you.”
“But you did hurt me, Frank. I cracked my heart open for you and you didn’t even acknowledge it.”
“And I’m sorry. I truly am.”
“I don’t know if that’s enough anymore,” I confessed. “Is this how it’s going to be every time your head isn’t in the right place? Are you just going to shut me out until you feel better?”
“It won’t happen again.”
Ashton’s excited voice slipped into the car. He and Roman were talking to a salesman. “Don’t you understand what you’re doing?”
Confusion flitted across Frank’s face.
I motioned toward the door that was still wide open. “He doesn’t have a father figure in his life. He looks up to you and I don’t want you to buy him a car and then disappear from his life. We’ve already been through this with our father. Do you have any idea how difficult it is for me to keep him straight?”
“I’m not going to disappear. I want this—us—to work.”
“Well, it won’t work unless both parties are trying, and you haven’t been, Frank.”
His hand squeezed mine. “What do you want me to do?”
“I want you to get help. Real help.” My voice shook. “I know you don’t think you have a problem, but you do. You’re not thinking straight and you’re mixing alcohol with painkillers. That only damages your body more and delays the healing process.”
Frank stared at me for a long moment, recognition lining his features. “Okay.” He nodded, lacing our fingers together.
“You promise?”
“I promise I’ll get help. Just come back.” He inched forward and pressed a soft kiss to my cheek. My body reacted instantly. Goosebumps erupted across my skin.
“I have to think about it,” I whispered, completely frozen.
“Can I ask about an ETA?” he crooned.
A muddy laugh escaped my throat. “You’re worse than a toddler.” I pulled my hand out of his heated grasp. “Depends on how upset my mother is when I tell her about this.” I motioned at the door and scrambled out of my seat, needing a little distance. He was too hard to resist.
Be still my heart, be still and don’t let this man ruin the walls you’ve built.
Frank stayed in the Escalade while Roman and I monitored Ashton. It took me a good hour to talk him out of buying a Corvette. My voice was shot from all the arguing and my head started to hurt. I was ready to throw myself on the ground in front of that monstrosity of a car if all else failed. Ashton was like a leprechaun chasing a pot of gold, dead set on the baddest, shiniest ride on the lot. For a moment there, I thought of dragging Frank out of the Escalade to assist me with fixing the loose screws in my brother’s brain, but the idea of having my name and photo in the tabloids didn’t appeal to me.
“How are you going to parallel park this car?” I fumed staring at the bright yellow hood of the Corvette. The color was cheesier than a pizza topping.
“I’ll learn.” My brother grinned from the driver’s seat, stroking the dashboard and the upholstery. He was somewhere between adorable and embarrassing. I wouldn’t be surprised if he started to lick the windshield.
“No, buddy. You need to know how to parallel park before you buy a car, not after.” I turned to the sales associate. “Can you show us something…smaller and less flashy?”
Eventually, we agreed on a Z4. The look on Ashton’s face when he got be
hind the wheel of the BMW was priceless. He beamed brighter than the Christmas tree set up in the reception area. Now I simply had to explain this to my mother, and the mere thought of the upcoming conversation gave me chills.
Once all the paperwork had been handled, I returned to the Escalade. Frank was on the phone but hung up the moment I flung the door open to slide into my seat next to him. Undeniable tension riddled the cool air, but he tried to defuse it with a smile.
“I’m not feeling very comfortable with my brother driving a sixty-thousand-dollar car alone,” I said, scouring his features.
“He’ll be fine.”
A pause.
“I hate you a little bit right now.”
“Only a little bit?” Frank laughed softly. “You two owe me a ride, by the way.”
“I think we can arrange that. I don’t know where we’re going to put you, though.”
“We’ll probably have to go without you.”
“Ahh, I don’t know about that.” I shook my head. “You’re a bad influence, Frank Wallace.”
“I’m trying not to be.” There was no pretense in his voice. He spoke from his heart and he spoke the truth, and as much as I wanted to hate him for putting me through hell this past week, I couldn’t. There was something about him—maybe his vulnerability or maybe his efforts—that made me want to hug him and hold him close until the end of forever.
I loved him that much.
“Frank?” I reached for his hand, my gaze aimlessly roaming over the interior of the Escalade. “I think time apart is good for us.” I wasn’t sure I meant it.
“I think we’ve been apart enough.”
“Things have to change… You understand that, right?”
“Yes. I do. And I promise to work through my issues.”
“Thank you.”
He looked at me with such intensity, my cheeks started to burn. “I’ll call you later.” I slipped out of my seat. “I can’t let Ashton drive that car alone.”
“Okay.” Frank nodded.
I didn’t like how easily I’d forgiven him, but I didn’t like my life without him either.
My mother thought I was on drugs when I told her about the Z4.