Heart Broke (Broken Home Book 1)

by Angela Stevens

  “That sounds a little shady,” I rub my neck. “And I’m not sure I want to run drugs anymore.”

  Zane flinches, squinting his eyes—surprised at what I just said. “Well, that’s cool, but Skinny swore the job doesn’t involve drugs. It’s car parts, and they’re having a hard time finding someone who knows about automobiles to make the delivery. They need someone who can seal the deal if there are any questions. You’d be perfect and I’m sure it pays more than your maintenance job.”

  I love my maintenance job! But only because I get to see Franny. Though, I must admit, my measly pay probably won’t be enough in the long run to make Franny happy. I’m confident I’m going to own that girl’s virginity and the least I can do is show her I’m worth it.

  I turn my head around once more to make sure no one’s around. “Where did you say the job was?”

  Midway. It’s a crazy place smack dab in the middle of the city. It’s where Uptown Rich Pricks bring their money to Downtown Dirty Pranks in exchange for illicit goods.

  I spent a lot of my former years hustling drugs for crime syndicates in these streets so I know exactly where I need to go. It’s easy to get lost in Midway. The beaten roads here merge at awkward angles, up to five or six streets in a spiral. And, unless you’ve left a trail of bread crumbs, it’s difficult to remember which street you came from, much less know which street you need to take or remember which direction you’re going in.

  It was fun being a rat, running drugs and stealing car parts and eventually entire cars. I had no fear until the day Zane, Teddy, and I witnessed the shooting. The only fear I had before then was of my Ma. It was exhausting keeping the shit I was doing a secret from her.

  But we needed the money. Or, rather I needed the money. Ma barely made enough to pay the bills so there was no way she could afford all the stuff I wanted.

  As I turn a corner—my boots splashing through a puddle of murky water pooled in a pothole—I consider whether I’m making a good choice. Franny hasn’t mentioned stuff she wants or needs but if stuff should ever come up, I want to be sure I can afford it for her and, unfortunately, delivering illegal merchandise is the only way I know how to make decent money.

  My feet stop in the middle of a driveway and I look around to make sure I’ve got the right address. Not much has changed in this part of the city but I am surprised to see a certain sign in front of me: Spin Motors.

  Unlike the car sale lots I’ve seen in the commercials this Spin Motors looks like an auto repair shop. At first glance, the business looks legitimate but the big warehouse behind and the stacks of car parts—expensive parts—lying around plus the constant feel for guns tucked in the pants of inexperienced car jackers says this place is a well-oiled and high grossing strip-yard.

  What I don’t understand is why this place has a Spin Motors sign sprawled across the top of the building when I was sure the Spin Motors company belonged to Franny’s dad.

  I decide I’d better not go in there, but before I can leave, my name is called with tremendous effort, “Rick!”

  Glancing to my left, I see Skinny. He waddles over—he’s so heavy. I can see sweat seeping at his armpits. Sweat is also collecting at my forehead. I can feel the beads. I want to leave but Skinny’s smile enhanced by his chubby pink cheeks is infectious so, I figure, I’ll at least say hello before I turn around and get the hell out of here.

  Skinny finally makes it and stops, wheezing, in front of me. “Hey, your brother called. Said you were coming. I’m glad you made it. I was hoping Zane would drop the hint. The boss here is looking for a guy like you.”

  “Zane is not my brother,” I correct. “And I’m not sure I’m interested in this job anymore.”

  “Why not? It is good money. Quick. Easy. And the boss pays cash. Why don’t you come meet him?”

  “I don’t think so,” I shake my head—ready to really turn around this time—when a man comes storming out of a door cursing and yelling at the top of his lungs.

  The man looks familiar though I don’t believe I’ve ever met him before. Following behind him is Brock Hancock, Franny’s father. I slip behind Skinny to hide, observing the arguing, stiff but finely dressed men.

  “Another thousand bucks!” The man who is not Franny’s father swings his arm in frustration. “I don’t want to replace the air conditioner again, Brock. I want you to fix it. I appreciate the deal you got me on the last fleet of limos but if you can’t fix the problems I’m having with these vehicles, I’m going to have to take all my future business somewhere else. My customers expect to be cool when they get in my cars. You do know the type of people I service, don’t you? Politicians and foreign leaders expect comfort and my business thrives on exceeding their expectations.”

  “Why don’t you have Rick take a look?” shouts Skinny with his thumb pointed behind his back at me. “Rick knows everything about cars.”

  Oh shit! I dodge to the left to hide my face, but I believe it’s too late.

  “Rick?” Franny’s father squints and we make eye contact. He’s smirking as he comes closer, pointing his finger at me. “That’s the Rick that’s been causing problems between my daughter and I. Don’t tell me this is the kid you wanted me to work for me, Skinny?”

  “Um...” Skinny shrugs. “Yeah. You’re not going to find a better guy.”

  The other man also approaches. “You know anything about air conditioners, kid?”

  There is an awkward silence. I’m surprised Franny’s dad hasn’t come at me considering I nearly punched him while he lay flat across his own front lawn. A second ago, I thought he and I were about to make another play of let-me-get-my-fist-in-your-face. But Franny’s dad is just standing there. I’d still like to punch the dude. He threatened to hurt his baby girl, which infuriates me. And clearly, he’s more of a business man—a scumbag—rather than a father.

  I figure this is my chance though. This is my chance to show Franny I’m the better man. If I can make anything work with her father, perhaps she’ll feel secure at being my baby girl.

  I pull out a pack of Marlboro’s from my pocket and light up a cig. “Show me what your problem is.” I puff. “Sir.”

  After I’m led to the limo, within two shakes of a tail feather, I’ve figured out what the problem with the air conditioning in Mr. Gordon’s limousine is. The fins to the condenser are bent, which is compromising the effectiveness of the system. To the untrained eye, the fins don’t look that bad and in good shape. But I’ve seen enough car parts in enough cars to recognize when something is out of place or doesn’t sit right. I give the news to the limo owner that the condenser simply needs to be combed with a fin comb rather than installing a whole new system.

  “Kid, I like you,” the man tells me. “What’s your name?” He reaches out his hand.

  “Rick.” We shake.

  “Rick, I feel like I’ve seen you before. Where you from?”

  “Downtown.”

  “You work anywhere else?”

  “I work in maintenance at St. Mary’s Prep—”

  “That’s it! That’s where I recognize you from,” the man cheers. “I’m Lance Gordon. You must know my son, Lance, Jr. He’s the quarterback for St. Mary’s football team. I do believe I’ve seen you on campus. I visit occasionally as an alumni.” Mr. Gordon eyes me from head to toe. “Would you like to come work for me? I need a smart kid like you. I pay well for burgeoning minds and my businesses are legitimate.”

  Another hand folds firmly over my shoulder. “The kid has already got a job,” replies Franny’s father. “Prank works for me.”

  “Prank?” Mr. Gordon’s brow raises.

  “You okay with that, kid? Being called a Prank?”

  “I’m fine with being called a Prank, Mr. Gordon. I’m not ashamed of where I come from, but what I don’t like is being referred to as a kid.”

  Mr. Gordon chuckles with a tilt of his head. “Well, Prank. Make sure your boss doesn’t over charge me for the work you just put in. And if you ev
er change your mind, I have a job waiting for you.”

  My chin lifts, the reaction is automatic as I fill with pride and I watch Mr. Gordon leave.

  “Don’t get any ideas.” The grip on my shoulder tightens. “I have a job for you, too.” Franny’s father nudges me and I turn to face him. “Perhaps I misjudged you, kid. I admit you’re pretty smart for a Prank. You got good instincts, but I need you to remember something.” Mr. Hancock places his hands at his hips and his eyes lock into mine. “You’re still not good enough for my daughter.”

  Not good enough. The thought fuels all the angst I’ve collected over the years and keep pent up inside. The effort it’s taking to be cool is making me hot and I have to make a second run for another pack of cigs.

  At dusk, I’m given a van packed in the back with stolen parts stripped from luxury vehicles. In the warehouse, I spied a Porsche 911, BMW M3, as well as an Audi RS 7. The vehicles and their engines are kept intact because the car is worth more in its original form. But anything added or updated by the owner—stereo systems, rims, tires, navigation or television devices, seats, spoilers, fender flares, and other easily fenced stuff will all be stripped and sold. Engine parts are rarely stripped from a luxury vehicle unless there is a high demand for such a part, in which case, they’ll swap that part out for something cheaper to maximize profit.

  As I make my rounds through the city, meeting with shady auto repair and auto-part shop owners I’ll pull over every once in a while, to check on Franny. She texts me now and then complaining about her homework, saying her brain is in overload, and I find it interesting that we both seem forced to do stuff we don’t really want to be doing.

  I mention that I’ve gotten a second job, but the only reason I hate it so bad is that I’d rather be spending my time with her and that I can’t wait to kiss her, hold her, and fuck the overload right out of her brain while I suck on her perfect titties. I don’t actually text that last part, but I am thinking it. Instead, I tell her how I can’t wait to make love to her, which I will do our first time.

  She takes a minute to respond and then changes the subject, texting something asking me a question about an economic’s homework question. “What’s your opinion on the epitome of gracious living.” I don’t even know what the fuck “epitome” means and I get the feeling she’s changing the subject on sex because she’s getting cold feet.

  I text her back, straight up asking if she wants to wait.

  Franny confirms that she’s nervous, that she doesn’t want to wait, but she also doesn’t want her parents, especially her father to find out. So, with all earnest and regardless of what her father thinks, I assure her: I’m going to be so good to you, Franny. No one but you will ever know how good I can be.

  Chapter 12

  FRANNY

  Oh My God!

  I’m going to be so good to you, Franny. No one but you will ever know how good I can be.

  Tears sting my eyes and I hug my phone to my chest. Rick’s words overwhelm me and I wish he could take me in his arms and whisper them in my ear. We have been seeing each other a little under two weeks and I already can’t imagine life without him. Even though our time together has only been snatched moments, we have spent them snuggling and kissing and… my cheeks burn and my panties feel damp as I close my eyes and imagine his mouth on my throat, his hand squeezing my breast, and his tongue lapping at my nipple. It’s never enough. Each time we meet, the minutes fly by and our experimental touches go further but instead of satisfying my lust, all they do is make me ache for him.

  But life is impossible at the moment and everything is conspiring against us. School work is piling up with the end of the year only a few weeks away and after-school activities are crazy, too. Dad still hasn’t given me my car back and I’m still grounded. Coming this weekend, is my birthday party and I have zero excitement for it because the only person I want to spend my eighteenth with is the one person who will not be there. Rick.

  I hate my father.

  “Why’s your light still on?” Speak of the devil. Daddy’s round face peers at me from the doorway and he spies my phone in my hand. “Stop texting and go to sleep, don’t you have an exam in the morning?”

  I slide the phone down my side, hoping to God he doesn’t demand to see who I’ve been talking to. If he should read my messages, know the things Rick has said to me… I shudder. “I was just helping Bambi out. She was in a panic about a math equation.”

  He stares at me and I’m not sure if he believes me. “Well, get some sleep.”

  “Yes, Daddy.”

  He hovers by the door and my palms sweat. I just wish he’d go so I could text Rick back. I am desperate to tell him that I want him, that I need him… that I love him.

  Daddy clears his throat and rubs his chin. “You, um, see anything of that boy?”

  “What boy?” I sigh, but inside my heart is clattering against my chest because I’m sure Daddy knows I have been sneaking out. What if neighbors saw Rick drop me off down the street? Or if they have seen us together in the park? Oh Lord, I hope they haven’t seen that! The thought that someone was watching us while we fumble beneath each other’s clothes, makes me feel sick.

  “That Prank—the one that brought you home drunk.”

  I give a more dramatic sigh, hoping it will disguise the quaver in my voice. “I told you, Rick had nothing to do with me being drunk.”

  “Answer the question, Francesca. Is he still sniffing around?”

  “When could I have seen him? I’m grounded, remember.”

  He studies me and I’m still not sure he believes me.

  “Doesn’t he work at your school?”

  “Hmm, now that you mention it, I think he does but I’ve had wall to wall quizzes and exams for the last two weeks, Daddy. I don’t have time to check on the janitors and maintenance crews. There are barely enough hours in the day to catch up with Bambi or Krystal as it is, so why would I bother with a Prank.” I can hear the bitchiness in my voice but my heart wants to break when I deny him.

  Daddy nods and reaches into his pockets. For a moment, he tosses my car keys up and down then places them in my hand.

  “I’m not grounded anymore?”

  He leans forward and kisses me on the forehead. “Try to stay out of trouble for the last few weeks of school, Francesca. Now go to sleep, you have a 4.0 GPA to protect.”

  As soon as the door shuts, I pump the air. I’m free! Snatching up my phone I text Rick.

  No longer grounded. Can I see you tomorrow?

  By the morning, Rick still hasn’t replied and now I’m out of my mind and checking for texts every thirty seconds. When I pull up at school, I’m almost in tears and am racking my brains trying to decide what I might have said or done to account for his silence.

  Hands cover my eyes and soft lips kiss my neck and I can’t help it, I burst into tears as I turn around in his arms.

  He holds my upper arms, his head bent, and a scowl appearing on his face when he sees me crying. “What’s happened Franny? You okay? Did someone hurt you?”

  I shake my head, because I don’t even know why I am sobbing, “Y-you didn’t reply to my text.”

  He pulls his phone from his pocket. “Shit it’s dead. I totally forgot to charge it. I’m sorry Franny, I was so tired from this extra job I’ve taken on that I fell asleep last night while texting with you and…”

  Relief floods through me and I grab his T-shirt and yank him to me. I don’t care that the whole parking lot has stopped to stare at us as my tongue disappears down his throat and my hands vanish underneath his tee.

  “Get a room.” Some idiot football player knocks against us as he barges past and I come to my senses.

  “I-I thought you were mad and you broke up with me.”

  Rick ignores the catcalls around us and put his hands to my face. Those deep blue eyes are earnest and his thumb swipes away a stray tear. “Why would I break up with you, sweet lips? You are the best thing that has ever happened
to me, the only good thing I have in my life.”

  Now I feel stupid and I look at my feet. There is no excuse for my over-reaction, only my own insecurities. “I-I…”

  He gives me a quick kiss. “Why don’t you tell me what the text said?”

  I shake my car keys at him. “I’m free!”

  His grin super-sizes. “Fantastic!”

  “We can go out tonight, I won’t have to sneak out my house when they have all gone to bed.”

  His face falls. “Shit, I have to work later tonight. I told you I have this new job.”

  Now, I’m the one pouting and frowning. “But I hardly ever see you, Rick. Do you have to work tonight?”

  “Sorry, babe. I just got this job and I’m doing it for you so I can take you out somewhere special.”

  “But I don’t need special, Rick. I love meeting in the playground, loved going to the president’s heads, and when we borrowed that row boat and watched the stars on the river it was so romantic.”

  “I wanna give you more, sweet lips.” His eyes are soft and he strokes my face, “You deserve special, baby.”

  “What time do you have to work? Maybe we could meet straight after school and I can do my homework later when you have to leave.”

  “Mmm, that sounds like a great idea. I’ll follow you home and pick you up.” He steps back but before he leaves he says, “Don’t ever doubt me, Franny. I’ll never let you down.”

  I held it together for my exam, but the rest of the day was a blur. All I can think about are Rick’s words. He’ll never let me down. Never—that’s what he said, and I believe him with all my heart. Now, if only I could get Daddy to believe it as well. Perhaps we should come clean, tell Daddy that we are in love and he can’t do anything about it.