by Nicole Fox
“That you’re doing this in my house? Only a little. This is important.” Francesca waved at her to be quiet, and a few of the cameramen had to cover their mouths to keep from laughing out loud on the cut.
Francesca flipped on the TV, ignoring Diane, Marston, and the half dozen still-running cameras around to flip to channel five, as directed. “This better be good,” Francesca thought, clicking the TV box controller.
Her jaw nearly dropped to the floor as she saw the news story currently in progress.
“Davis Thorne, boyfriend of superstar Francesca Savoy, was outed by a long time secretary for his laundry list of alleged illegal dealings,” the news anchor was saying, her voice and eyes empty of emotion. “The man, who is supposed to be a main player in the upcoming season of the Diamond Savoy TV show, will most likely be spending the season in jail instead.” The news anchor began to list the charges, a glimmer of glee at Davis’s misfortune glowing in the depths of her eyes.
The cameras zoomed in on the TV and the Savoys’ horrified expressions with glee. This wasn’t the engagement episode they had been hoping for, but they would still get something worth putting on TV.
Francesca ignored the sudden uproar around her, her eyes locked on the screen.
In a horrified second, she realized her mistake. “What Davis has done is even worse than Logan, and I was going to let him raise my child.” Tears sprang to her eyes, blurring the footage before her. “I never should have let him into my life or my house. I never should have left Logan behind.”
The front door opened and slammed shut. Francesca barely heard it over the sound of Diane panicking and the sound of her own heart breaking into pieces. “What have I done?”
Breathing heavily, Davis tumbled into the living room, his pale face red from exertion. “Babe, you won’t believe what’s going on.”
Francesca glanced at him and snorted indelicately. “I might believe it.” She pointed to the screen. “Tax evasion? Embezzling money? Drugs? All of this is true, isn’t it? This is how you made your greasy money?”
“I didn’t hear you complaining when I spent that money on you, Francesca,” Davis snapped, his eyes on fire. “But come on, Babe. We’re going to have to make a run for it. Get out of the US government’s reach.”
Francesca laughed. “Like I’d go anywhere with you now. Slimeball.”
Davis slapped her across the face, his eyes burning with hate. “So you can go back to your biker asshole? I don’t think so. You’re coming with me.” He grabbed onto her arm so hard Francesca was sure she would have bruises.
Balling up her fist, Francesca pulled back as hard as she could, punching Davis in the nose with all of her might. Blood spurted from his nostrils, and his head snapped back. Davis yelled out, releasing her arm as Francesca scampered back away from him. She knew the cameras were still running, but she ran back to her fireplace and grabbed the fire poker off of the stand, holding it out like a sword in front of her. “Touch me again and I’ll brain you, you stupid douchebag. I don’t want you. No one wants you. You’re just a slimy asshole who can’t see past his own sense of entitlement. So get the hell out of my house. Now.”
Davis touched his face, seemingly shocked at the blood spilling from his nose. Tears streamed from his eyes as he turned them on Francesca. “You broke my nose!”
“And next I’m calling the police to tell them where you are! Get out of my house!”
Sirens pulled up the road, screeching and loud, pulling into Francesca’s driveway. Davis, looking panicked, stood up, his face full of rage. “This is your fault, you dumb bitch,” he screamed, blood still pouring down his face. “If I go to jail, it will be your fault!”
Francesca laughed in his face, bitter and angry. “If you go to jail, it’ll be your own damned fault for all of the illegal stuff you did, Davis. None of it will be my fault.”
The police charged into the house, a thunder of boots on through her normally quiet kitchen. One of them men leapt forward, slamming hard into Davis’s knees and instantly bringing him to the floor. Diane screamed and Marston dove out of the way and to the couch, not wanting to be caught in the line of fire if Davis tried to flee.
Francesca dropped the poker. It clattered loudly to the floor as the police officers swarmed her home. She stared at the police and at Davis with dead eyes. She was exhausted; she felt like she hadn’t slept in a week. Cradling her stomach with her left hand, Francesca watched as the police dragged Davis out of her house, kicking and screaming, his curses finally quieting as they shoved him in the back of car.
“This is amazing!” one of the producers gushed, his face lit up like a Christmas tree. “Nothing makes better TV, Francesca!”
“Thank you for your concern; my life has just been ruined on camera, but at least you’re happy,” Francesca snapped, her face a mask of rage. Tears poured down her face as she turned on the producers. “You people are the worst, and I want you out of my house. Now.”
There was something icy in her voice that made all of the crew fall silent. They packed up their electronics and cameras and lights and left, leaving Francesca alone with her regrets.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Francesca
“I almost made the worst decision of my life.” Francesca stared out of the window, watching as the city streamed by. It hadn’t been long since she’d left Boston, but it felt a little like a homecoming. Some of the best days of her life had been in this place, discovering a whole other world she hadn’t known existed with Logan. Memories of those beautiful moments filled her mind, blocking out the sounds and sights around her.
Memories of making love to Logan on the campground, riding his motorcycle through the fall leaves, and meeting his people. These moments that she’d kept close to her heart this whole time. Sighing, Francesca glanced out of the window again, noticing those pretty, fire-colored leaves had all tumbled to the ground, leaving the trees naked and empty. They looked like they were reaching for the sun with their empty branches, begging for the spring to come back again.
She wondered if Logan still wanted her. It had been months since he’d even bothered to reply to any of her texts. Even if he still loved her, she did leave him for Davis.
Taking a deep breath, Francesca ran her hands over her swelling belly, feeling the warmth of her son deep inside of her body. He was too small to feel just yet. But she knew he would soon be big enough to feel kicking around in there. And Francesca wanted Logan to be around when he did. “Even if — Even if he doesn’t want me, he should at least be part of his son’s life.”
Nikki sat next to Francesca in the rental, driving like Francesca was an antique glass sculpture that would shatter at a touch rather than simply a lady carrying a baby. Her concern was touching, if a little excessive; Francesca was just happy that Nikki was around to show her where the garage was. She needed the moral support now more than anything.
“It’s going to be fine; he still loves you, I promise.” Nikki patted Francesca’s leg gently, her wrists jangling with a massive assortment of bangles. The sun was beginning to set over the road and the sky turned a deep, rich orange sherbet and wine color, but Nikki was still wearing her sunglasses.
Francesca’s mouth dried up as Nikki slowed to a halt outside of a big, warehouse looking building. There was a sign on the outside that looked like handmade graffiti that read “the Satan’s Chaos Bike and Car Repairs.” The parking lot was all gravel, which Francesca nearly groaned at. Her shoes were not going to like this trek.
“Too bad for the shoes I care more about Logan.”
Heart racing, pounding against her ribs, Francesca stared at the building. Her eyes were too wide, her fingers shaking as she stared at the metal gray siding of the warehouse. “Logan is inside of this building, right now.”
Feeling a little dizzy, Francesca opened the car door and stood up, feeling the icy-cold Boston air steal away all of her heat. It didn’t seem to matter how sensibly she dressed for the weather here, it was nev
er warm enough.
Footsteps on the gravel made crunching noises that woke Francesca out of her trance. The camera crew spilled out of the van that had followed them all the way up there, quickly double-checking their equipment before giving Francesca the sign to go ahead.
But she wasn’t ready to go ahead.
The thought of rushing into the garage and shouting Logan’s name for the TV cameras made Francesca a little ill, but this was her contract. They needed a pretty ending to the season. Since there weren’t going to be wedding bells between her and Davis, she felt she owed them something to close off the final episode with. She’d given them a pretty, tear-filled love confession they would most likely cut into this one. It felt a little bit violating, always having the cameras there for her most vulnerable moments. But it was too late to regret that now.
Right now, she had to focus on Logan and herself and the child that would be theirs.
Holding her hands protectively over her stomach, Francesca stared up at the imposing building, and took a long, deep breath.
# # #
Logan
Piece stopped breathing when he looked outside to see what all of the commotion was about. All of his boys stood around him, pressing closer to the glass, their fingerprints turning to rainbows as the lights from outside shown through them. Every detail of that moment, from the icy cold glass under his fingers to the warm feeling spreading through his chest seemed important. Every little thing about this second was some of the most important of his life.
Because somehow, Francesca Savoy, wrapped up in a massive pile of winter coats and scarves, was standing in front of his store. Lights glittered off of the silver embroidery on her solid white jacket. Her heels sunk into the gravel as she wobbled across the parking lot from the car, her face wary but determined.
She posed herself in front of the well-lit storefront, and it took a moment for Logan to realize why. The cameras. They surrounded her like sharks smelling blood in the water. The lighting must have been particularly good where she stood.
Logan’s heart turned to ice, the blood draining from his face. “Of course she would bring cameras. This is some kind of publicity thing for her. I guess it’s best to just go out there and find out what the hell she wants so I can go back to my life. I’m so fucking tired of these cameras. I don’t know how her family stands them.”
Taking a deep breath, Logan braced himself. Then he pushed the door open.
A flood of light passed over him as he pushed past the threshold, the cold air instantly pulling all of the heat from his body as he stepped out into the cold. Francesca was there, her beautiful body posed in the gravel, her liquid green eyes watching him like a hawk would her prey. Logan could feel a lump form in his throat that he wasn’t quite sure he could speak around. But he needed to try.
“What are you doing here, Francesca?” Logan gestured to the cameras which seemed to all be rolling, pointing at him expectantly. “Did you bring the crew along to make me look like the bad guy again? Because I’m tired of playing the lawless loser for you.”
No matter what Nikki said about Francesca being miserable with Davis, it couldn’t have been true. She didn’t look miserable, standing in the center of the circle of light in the parking lot. In fact, she looked perfect, poised. Just as she always had. Her green eyes were as hard as emeralds as she stared at him, her breath puffing in the cold December air. “Francesca hadn’t even said a damned thing when I sent the bassinet to her. Not a single damned word.”
Heart as hard as ice, Logan stared the woman who had come two thousand, seven hundred miles for some kind of publicity stunt.
Crossing his arms over his chest, Logan waited for an answer.
Francesca seemed to be frozen where she stood, her feet stuck to the ground. Her face was empty of any emotion as she stared at him, her mouth moving but no words coming out. Suddenly, tears spilled down her beautiful face. A sob spilled out of her throat and she took one, wobbly step forward.
She ran to him as quickly as a woman in heels could ever run on gravel, her words completely incoherent through her sobs.
His heart twisting, Logan caught Francesca as she nearly stumbled into him. She threw her arms around his neck and pulled him close, the scent of her filling up his senses. It was like heaven to have her arms around him again, and in that moment, the cameras, the shop, and his boys all disappeared in the warmth of her embrace.
“I love you, Logan,” she whispered, her voice so quiet, he almost couldn’t hear her over the thundering in his blood. Taking a step back, Francesca looked up at him, her green eyes so much brighter with tears in them. She seemed to be searching his face for something. “I never should have left you. Davis isn’t who my baby needs to raise him; he needs his father. His real father. I was so stupid to leave you.”
Francesca glanced to the side, fresh tears spilling over her long, black lashes and down her beautiful face. “I made the biggest mistake of my life when I went back to him. I — I would — I want you to come back to me. No matter what that means.” She swallowed hard, her eyes coming to rest on his face again. “Please.”
Logan, caught up in the beauty of Francesca’s face, opened and closed his mouth several times. He seemed unable to answer. The blood rushed hot through his veins, his heart thundering back to life like someone had started up a bike’s engine. Emotion filled up his throat, blocking off anything he might have said.
Francesca’s eyes searched his face for some hint of the emotions that had him all tangled up, but Logan wasn’t even sure he knew how he was feeling. Every cell in his body seemed to be reaching out to Francesca, wanting to wrap her in his arms. But she’d left him.
And then owned up to her mistake.
So Logan did the only thing he could do: wrap his arms tightly around her most precious body, and pray she understood the words he couldn’t seem to say.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Francesca
Tears spilling down her face, Francesca wrapped her arms tighter around Logan. She never should have left this embrace. Everything about it felt perfect, like two puzzle pieces coming together to form a whole. Ever since Logan and Francesca had been separated, something had felt like it was missing from her life. No matter how hard she tried to ignore it. But now, with him so close, it was nearly impossible to deny her mistake at leaving him in the first place. No, this is where she belonged. This is where their child belonged.
Smiling, Francesca snuggled a little closer, ignoring the audience to their private moment. She was used to having an audience. Every single camera in the world couldn’t ruin this moment. Nothing could.
But Francesca was wrong. Something could ruin it. And Davis Thorne was going to try his hardest to do so.
The sound of a car driving too fast on gravel tore through the parking lot, followed by the unmistakable sound the skittering of tires. A car door opened and slammed closed, pulling Francesca out of Logan’s arms to investigate who could be pulling into the shop like a madman.
She instantly regretted looking.
“Francesca!” Davis shouted, his voice thick with something crazy. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”
“Leaving your ass behind like she should have done a long time ago,” Nikki snapped. Francesca’s heart dropped down into her toes, her whole body shivering in the freezing cold weather. “Hey, you!” she said, pointing to one of Logan’s boys. “Go call the damned police. Please.” The kid looked shocked for a second, then disappeared back into the building.
Davis’s pale skin was red with rage, his red hair looking like his scalp was on fire from his rage. A blood vessel popped out on his forehead as he took another step towards Francesca and Logan. “You stupid bitch! How dare you break up with me? After I supported you through this embarrassing pregnancy because biker dude couldn’t step up? You have got to be kidding me.”
Francesca could feel her own anger rising in her blood and her eyes narrowed more with every word. Spinning on her
heel, she stood beside Logan, who loomed over her like a protector. “You supported me? By what? Sleeping with the whole world? Making a fool of me by getting arrested on national television? How did you get out anyway?”
Several of Logan’s boys had come out of the garage and stood behind them. They were all pretty threatening individually, and together, they should have sent Davis running back to his car with his tail between his legs. But he had lost it by then and seemed to see nothing but Francesca.
He sneered at her. “I posted bail and walked out of the jail.”
Nikki snorted. “You’re breaking the law by being out of the state aren’t you?”
Davis’s face got impossibly redder as Francesca watched. Logan’s muscles seemed to tense a little more with every crazy sentence out of Davis’s stupid mouth. “Who cares? I thought you liked bad boys, Francesca? Come, don’t you find me hot now, just like your pet inmate?”