by K. A. Ware
Instead, I wrote to her about the crappy food and the fine layer of dust-like sand that covered everything out in the desert. I told her about the characters in my unit. Hooch, the awkward hillbilly from West Virginia, who would tell us stories about his great granddaddy who still made moonshine up in the mountains. Ortiz, the consummate ladies’ man, who had seven different women from his home town sending him care packages and nude pictures to ‘keep his spirits up’. Tarzan, the resident jokester of our group, and the time he got extra duty for 45 days after running naked around camp yelling ‘the red coats are coming’ at the top of his lungs.
I painted the picture of a bunch of guys out in the middle of nowhere with nothing to do to pass the time but act like idiots, which was partially true. There was enough down time for us to swap stories and basically act like the 20-something guys we were. There were plenty of times though, when shit got serious fast and those same men completely transformed in the span of seconds. One minute someone was dancing around with a pair of skivvies on his head making us all laugh and the next he was assembling his rifle and donning his gear ready to be the soldier he’d been trained to be.
A group of people to my right burst out laughing, pulling me from my thoughts. Scanning the room, I caught sight of her by the back door talking to some guy that I’d gone to school with and my blood started to heat. I didn’t like the way his head was bent close to hers, and I definitely didn’t like the way his hand came up to move a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
Not. At. All.
Setting my beer down on the side table, I pushed my way through the crowded room a little more forcefully than was probably necessary. Coming up behind her I placed a hand on her small shoulder and glared at the guy. I couldn’t remember his name, but I knew he was a couple years younger than me—maybe Eddie’s age—it really didn’t matter. What mattered was he knew she was off limits. His eyes widened when he saw me standing there, and he made up some excuse about getting a refill, even though his cup was clearly full, before taking off for the backyard.
Frankie swiveled around, her mouth practically hanging open in shock.
“What’d you do that for?” she asked incredulously.
I glared down at her, my jaw set. She was so small compared to me, especially since I’d filled out quite a bit while I was away. She’d filled out too, I’d noticed, but in a completely different way. She was still petite, but the cut-off shorts and tank top she wore left absolutely nothing to the imagination.
“Come here,” I grumbled, taking her hand and pulling her up the stairs and into the hallway away from the party.
“Ouch! Shit, Enzo. What the fuck?” she complained once I released her.
“Stay away from that guy,” I growled, knowing full well that I had no right to demand anything from her, but I couldn’t help the possessive instinct I’d felt when I saw her talking to him.
“Why? We were just talking,” she said, her brows furrowed in confusion.
“Bullshit! He was trying to get in your pants,” I said, raking my eyes down her body and back up again before continuing, “what little of them there’s left, that is. Jesus, why don’t you go put on some fucking clothes?”
“Excuse me? There is nothing wrong with what I’m wearing. Why are you being a fucking asshole right now?” she asked, punctuating her question with a shove to my shoulder.
I could feel my jaw tick with anger. “Every guy down there has been eye-fucking you all goddamn night, and I’m sick of fucking watching it. Go put on some clothes so I don’t have to fucking kill someone, okay?” I ground out through gritted teeth.
She blinked up at me in shock, then she burst out laughing. I waited, stunned as she continued to laugh, going as far as to bend over and hold her stomach. “Oh my God,” she breathed, when she’d finally caught her breath again. “You almost had me going there for a minute. Jesus, Enzo, you have the overprotective big brother thing down, but you can stop now,” she said, patting my chest before turning to walk away.
That just pissed me off. My arm shot out and hooked around her middle pulling her back toward me before I backed her into the wall, stepping in close and invading her space.
“I am not your brother,” I growled an inch from her face.
Her eyes widened and her cheeks started to burn. “I know, I just meant— “
“I know what you meant, and you’re wrong,” I said bending my head closer to hers. Frankie’s breath caught when I placed my hands on her hips. “Franny—“ I started, but was interrupted by a voice at the end of the hall.
“Frankie, your mother wants you,” Eddie’s strained voice called out. I jerked my head up and immediately took a step back, letting my arms drop to my sides.
What the fuck was I doing?
Eddie was staring hard at us. No, he was staring at Frankie, like he was pissed about something. None of us said anything for a long uncomfortable minute, and then Frankie broke the semi-standoff, squeezing past Eddie and rushing down the stairs. I watched her go and dread filled my stomach. I had a feeling I’d just seriously fucked up.
8
Eddie
Age 18
10 years earlier…
I stood still as a statue watching them. He had his hands on her hips, their heads pressed together and I wanted to kill him. The rage built in my body, crawling up my limbs, and the buzzing in my head increasing. It was wrong. She was mine. He didn’t get to touch her.
“Frankie, your mother wants you,” I said, my voice coming out strangled with thinly-veiled anger.
Enzo’s head snapped up, and he took an automatic step away from Frankie, his arms falling to his sides. I watched as her face fell for just a moment at the loss of his touch before she fixed her expression to neutral. My eyes bore into her; I was sure she could feel the fury in my gaze. She held my eye for just a moment before casting a cursory glance at Enzo out the corner of her eye and squeezing past me towards the living room.
Her arm brushed against mine, and the tropical scent from the lotion she wore filled my nostrils, causing my eyes to involuntarily close for a moment. I knew exactly which scent she used; I knew everything about her. I’d watched her, memorizing every detail. In the past two years since Enzo had left, my fantasies had gotten more vivid and detailed, and my compulsion to watch her—to fill every moment with her—had become impossible to ignore.
“What are you doing?” I spit out harshly.
Enzo’s head drew back in shock at my tone and his eyes narrowed on me. “What do you mean?”
“Why were you touching her? You don’t get to do that. You’re leaving again. Are you trying to make it harder on her?” Guilt. Guilt always worked on people, especially the weak ones. It was the easiest way to get someone to do what you wanted. I’d learned long ago that too many people cared too much about what other people thought and guilt was one of the strongest and easiest emotions to play upon.
Enzo’s face hardened. “It’s none of your business, Eddie,” he said angrily and went to walk past me, but I stepped in front of him, blocking his path.
“It is my business; I’m the one that has to pick up the fucking pieces!” I seethed.
“It’s only two more years,” Enzo argued, glaring down at me.
“Then she goes off to college. Are you going to follow her? Or convince her to stay home? That’s not fair.”
“We can figure it out,” Enzo said running a hand over his shaved head.
“She’s sixteen, what the hell do you think you’re going to figure out?” I pressed, noticing his frustration.
“Why do you care? She said you haven’t even been around since I left!”
I narrowed my eyes, biding my time as I thought of a reasonable excuse. I couldn’t tell him about the fantasies, the thoughts whirling in my mind of all the things I wanted to do to her. All the things I knew I would give into if I was alone with her for too long.
“I’ve been busy. This isn’t about me,” I gritted out. “You’re
too old to be lusting after a teenage girl. You need to back off.” Satisfaction bloomed in my chest at the stunned expression on Enzo’s face.
“It’s Frankie. It’s not like I’m trolling the fucking high school. Nothing is even going on yet, so don’t give me that shit.”
Yet. That word stuck in my head. No, it could never be. I wouldn’t allow him to ruin her for me. “You’re right, it is Frankie, and you don’t own her.”
He blinked, tilting his head to the side and inspecting me closer. Yeah, we’d grown up together, but he didn’t know me like he thought he did. No one did. No one knew the things that played out in my head; I kept them secret, hidden from everyone. They only got the Eddie I wanted them to see.
“You don’t…” he started then paused before squeezing his eyes shut and shaking his head. “You can’t be serious, Eddie; you just can’t. How long?”
“How long what?” I asked, confused for once at what he was talking about. I didn’t like it. I was always three steps ahead. I didn’t like not being in control of the situation.
“How long have you wanted her?” he asked, defeat in his tone.
I looked down at the dingy carpet of the hallway, the same cheap brown carpet that had been there since we were kids, parts of it bald from years of traffic. The whole house was run down and stank of mildew and age. I hated this place.
I swallowed hard and looked back up at my cousin. “For as long as I can remember,” I said keeping my voice low.
The truth was the fantasies had started out tame when we were children and increased as we got older until every night I would lie awake playing out the most disturbing of my fantasies while I touched myself. Finally finding sleep when my mind was filled with images of her bloodied body and my own release filled my hand. I knew it was wrong—not normal—but I also knew that eventually I wouldn’t care. In the meantime, he couldn’t have her.
“Jesus Christ!” Enzo growled, turning to slam a heavy fist into the wall. The music from the party drowned out his outburst, but the hole in the drywall remained as evidence.
“Please don’t do this to me. Please,” I pleaded with him. My resentment toward my cousin had grown exponentially over the past two years and it turned my stomach to grovel, but it was the only card I had left to play.
“Are you sure?” he asked, begging with his eyes for me to deny it.
“I love her,” I said simply. It was about the only honest thing I’d said to him the entire conversation. In my own twisted way, I loved her.
Enzo looked away from me, the muscle in his jaw ticking as he stared at the wall covered in pictures from our childhood without really seeing any of them. Finally, he turned back to me, eyes shuddered and face blank. “Fine. I won’t make a move, but neither will you. You’re my blood, and I’m not going to fuck with that over a girl, even if it is Frankie. But you have to promise me you won’t go there either,” he demanded.
I felt my eye twitch, a reflexive response to being told I couldn’t have what I wanted but I nodded my head, aware that I wasn’t going to actually follow through with it.
Enzo let out a breath and tipped his chin to me. “I need a fucking beer,” he said pushing past me to join the party.
Once he was past me, I let the grin I’d been holding in spread across my lips. I’d won. Enzo was nothing if not loyal and he’d given me his word that he wouldn’t touch her. I, on the other hand, wasn’t loyal to him; I had no reason to be.
Frankie was mine and I’d have her one day.
9
Frankie
Present
“Oh, Mia, I almost forgot. I saw the cutest crib set online the other day. Here, I saved the picture,” I said pulling up the camera roll on my phone. I clicked on my most recent picture and handed my phone to Mia. “Scroll through, I saved a couple of them.”
“I love the mustaches, skulls. Yeah, no way Carlo’s going to go for that, are you?” Mia asked.
“No,” Carlo said sternly, glaring at me over the top of his wine glass.
“Can’t blame a girl for trying,” I said with a smirk.
“I like the lime green and black; that works for a girl or a boy,” Mia commentated as she continued to scroll. “Whoa, peaceful Frankie, that’s something you don’t see every day.”
“What?” I asked. Confused, I snatched the phone out of her hand to look at the picture she was talking about. My stomach dropped to the floor when I got a good look at the photo. It was of me, asleep in my bed. Whoever took the picture had been standing over me. The thing was, I didn’t know who took the photo.
“Oh my God. What the fuck?!” I shrieked and threw the phone onto the table as if it’d burned me.
“What is it?” Enzo asked, his eyebrows furrowed in concern.
My hands were shaking as I brought them to my mouth. I couldn’t believe it. Who? Why? How? I hadn’t been on a date in over a year, let alone had anyone in my house while I was sleeping. “Someone was in my apartment,” I choked out finally.
“What do you mean?” Carlo asked, snatching the phone off the table before Enzo had a chance. He glared down at the screen, his scowl deepening the longer he stared. “Is there a chance it was someone you knew? Maybe you just forgot?”
“Let me see,” Enzo barked out before he ripped the phone from Carlo’s hand. He stared at the photo for a long while, his face growing harder with each passing second.
I scoffed, “No. No one has been in my apartment in months and there definitely hasn’t been anyone there while I was sleeping. Oh God, the flowers!”
“It’s got to be the same person,” Mia said, her hand unconsciously stroking her swollen belly.
“What flowers?” Enzo asked.
“Last week a bouquet of flowers was delivered to my office. They didn’t have a card or anything so I called the flower shop. When the lady looked up the receipt she told me it was an online order made using a prepaid card, and the only name on the order was John.”
“Why didn’t you tell anyone?” Enzo demanded.
“I didn’t think it meant anything,” I said.
“Jesus, do you have any idea who it could be? Old boyfriend?” he asked, spitting out the last part as if it left a bad taste in his mouth.
“No,” I responded automatically.
“No?” Enzo questioned, narrowing his eyes in my direction. “Are you sure?”
“I’m sure.”
“Frankie, even if you don’t think it’s likely, we should check out everyone,” Mia chimed in.
“There isn’t anyone; drop it,” I said firmly.
Enzo was still glaring at me from across the table, as if he didn’t believe me. Well, he could just go fuck himself because there was no way I was going to talk to him about my sex life, or lack thereof.
“Well you can’t stay there; at least, not until we find out what’s going on,” Enzo demanded.
“Excuse me?” I asked, immediately put off by his authoritative tone.
“It’s not safe, Frankie. You need to be where people can keep an eye on you. This isn’t something to take lightly. This guy was in your apartment while you were asleep and you had no idea!” Enzo said, his tone almost accusatory, as if it were my fault some peeping Tom had snuck into my loft.
“Enzo’s right,” Carlo said. “You can stay here.”
“With all due respect, Boss man, you're my employer—not my dad,” I sneered. “Besides, what am I supposed to do? Move in here forever? If I up and leave my apartment, we might not ever find out who it is.”
“Then I’ll stay with you,” Enzo said. His tone suggested that the offer wasn’t up for discussion, but I wasn’t having any of it.
“Like hell you will,” I rallied back.
“Frankie, this isn’t a fucking argument. The answer is no. That's final!” Enzo barked.
“Well you didn’t exactly ask a question for there to be an answer to now did you? I'm not leaving my apartment and no one is staying with me. I have a gun and I can take care of myself.
”
“I'm not going to let you stay by yourself while some psycho is on the loose!”
“Let me? I’m a grown-ass woman! You don't own me and I don't take orders from you,” I said, my rage barely controlled as I faced off with the brood of a man sitting across the massive polished wood table. “I don’t need anyone to protect me.”
“That's bullshit. Stop being so fucking stubborn, Franny.” Enzo heaved a frustrated sigh, scraping his hands roughly over his head. “You need to be smart about this. I need you to be safe.”
Ice ran through my veins at his words. I’d heard those words before. I need you to be safe. He’d said that to me each time he left me, like it was my responsibility to keep him from worrying.
He’d called me Franny, the name he used to call me when we were kids and he wanted to get his way. He was using our past against me, trying to make me remember so he could manipulate me into giving in.
“Please… You haven't given two shits about me in years,” I snapped and stood from the table, the legs of my chair unpleasantly scraping against the floor. “I'm sorry, I lost my appetite. I'm going to go home. Alone.” Enzo’s eyes narrowed at my accusation; I could see the tick in his jaw indicating his agitation from where I stood.
“You can leave, but I'll follow you,” he said, his tone almost threatening.
“That's called stalking, Enzo. I’ve apparently already got one too many of those.”
“I don't give a shit what you call it, I'm going to protect you!” he growled, his voice was still low but I could see the anger brimming just below the surface.
“You’ve been perfectly fine letting me handle my own shit for years, so why are you all up in my business now?” I demanded.
“Doesn’t matter; I am.”
“Oh, come off it, enough with the hero complex bullshit. You know what? I don’t even give a shit why. You don’t have a right to order me around. You’re off the hook. I’m telling you right now that you don’t have to worry about me.”