by Mandi Beck
Maverick comes skidding to a stop in the doorway but halts his advance when without raising my head, I point for him to leave. Once he’s turned and left, I stand straight and make my way around to where Frankie is, sobbing into her hands. It kills me to see her like this. That I’m a part of this pain. Wordlessly, I scoop her up in my arms and cradle her to my chest. The muscle in my jaw jumps in time with my racing heart as I walk her up the stairs and into my room. Instead of going straight to the bed, where I would like to take this for the next few hours just so I can love on her, I head to the sectional in my office, the one that faces the fireplace so that I can see our story spread out in front of me on my mantel, hanging on my wall. It calms me and reminds me who I’m dealing with, who I have in my arms. She would never hurt me on purpose. She’s always been in my corner, loved me even when it should have been impossible to do. There was a reason she kept this from me, from all of us, and I’m about to find out what.
Settling us into the supple leather, I position her on my lap with her legs draped over me to the side and her head cradled in the crook of my arm so that I can look at her while we discuss this. Though right now her face is still buried between my neck and shoulder. I let my head fall to the back of the couch and release a deep breath. My eyes close and I focus on the music filtering around the room, letting it wash over me as I hold my girl and let her cry while I run my hands up and down her back, doing my best to soothe her. The words of the song penetrate the numb feeling taking over my mind.
“Who sings this?” I ask softly, trailing my fingers over her bare thigh.
Her normally raspy voice is now hoarse from crying. “Sam Smith and John Legend,” she sniffles. Nodding I go back to listening and stroking over her, waiting.
I’ve stalled long enough. “Why didn’t you tell me, Frankie? Why didn’t you tell anyone?” She sighs loudly, accepting that she can’t get out of this.
“At first I didn’t tell you because things were so strained between us and you had the guys with me all the time anyway, so I didn’t think I should bother you with it.” She plucks at the strings on the throw pillow as she talks to me. I open my mouth to argue, but she goes on, “Then we were together and even though they were still coming, I felt safe. I knew no harm would come to me when I was with you. Plus you were training for your big comeback.” Glancing up at me, I watch as she gathers her confidence and melts back into my arms a bit more. “Then we weren’t together anymore and I was terrified. All the time I was scared, but I couldn’t tell you because you would’ve fixed it and doing that would interfere with your matches.”
“The fights, Frankie? That’s why you didn’t fucking tell me? None of that matters more than you!” I say completely exasperated.
Her head bobs in agreement. “I know that, Deac. I know that you would have done anything to make it all go away.” She brushes a tear gliding down her cheek before going on, “I had no doubt you would protect me, but I couldn’t do that to you. I had already taken so much from you. You were busting ass trying to make your way back into the standings, training harder than I’d ever seen you train, and if I said a single word about any of it, you would’ve dropped everything you have been working for and rescued me.” I watch as her eyes dart away. “So instead I made sure I was never alone, and I kept everything he sent for the detectives.”
My teeth ached from grinding them together while she spoke. “Why didn’t you tell one of my brothers or Reggie? Fuck, your dad even, Princess,” I bite out. I can’t understand why the fuck she would shoulder this. That she has been going through this alone and that I’ve been clueless to it eats at me.
“Every one of them would have told you,” she says quietly as I push the hair off of her forehead and tuck it behind her ear. “I wanted to tell you so bad, Deac. Every day I wanted to just run to you, admit everything, and beg you to make it go away. I needed you, more than I ever have before, and I couldn’t go to you.” Her voice is full of anguish; it’s like a punch to the face.
“No, it’s not that you couldn’t; it’s that you wouldn’t. No matter what, Princess, I told you that nothing would ever come between us. We’re a part of each other, remember? That’s never gonna change.” She gives me a watery smile, reaching out to finger my chain and the charm lying against my chest.
“I love when you wear this. You have the tattoo, but it always makes my heart smile when I see your half of the coin around your neck.” Her thumb brushes over the letters engraved into the metal while I watch her.
“Frankie, don’t keep shit from me. Not to protect me, not because you think it’s what’s best. You’re what’s best for me. You being safe and happy and whole. That’s what I need, you feel me?” With a finger under her chin, I force her to look at me. “You feel me?” I repeat. I need her to understand that even now, when I’m not sure where we stand, that she comes first. Her eyes dart over my face before settling on my unblinking gaze.
“I feel you, Deac,” Frankie answers softly, putting her lips over the Mizpah charm and then curling into me quietly. “Can we talk more later? I just want to sleep now. I’m so tired again.”
I stand with her still in my arms, her head against my chest and go into the bedroom. Laying her in the bed and crawling behind her, tucking her against me. “Sleep, baby. The rest can wait for now.” Raising her wrist, I place a kiss first on the other half of the charm dangling from her bracelet and then to my spot.
Tomorrow. Tomorrow I’ll break the news to her.
“Princess. Jones.” I greet them both with what I think is my most disarming smile. I’m going to need all the help I can get when I drop this bomb on them.
“Morning, Deac,” Frankie says, returning my smile, happy to see me.
“Why the fuck are you smiling like that? What do you want?” Indie looks at me through narrowed, suspicious eyes and then turns to Frankie. “What does he want? Look at him, he’s totally trying to use his swoony shit on us.” Crossing her arms, she covers the “I’m a Vagitarian” scrawled across her chest and cocks her eyebrow. “You can save all that nonsense; it won’t work here. Your bad boy hotness and bedroom eyes have no effect on me.” She indicates Frankie with a tilt of her chin. “It may work on this one but not me. Whatever you want, stop being a cuntasaurus and just say it.”
The fuck? What did she just call me? Taken aback, I forget for a second what I came in here to tell them as I listen to Frankie laugh at Indie’s antics. Then I remember that I have news. Big news. News that affects us all and that I’m kinda dreading telling them. There’s gonna be dramatics, I’m sure. I have nothing prepped, no speech practiced to ease them into what I’m about to say, so I just cut to the chase. “Indie, your place isn’t safe enough for you two right now. You’re both moving in here until all of this shit blows over. We’ll all go pack up your shit as soon as my brothers wake up.” There, it’s done. I give them a nod and reach into the cabinet for my coffee cup, filling it up as I count down in my head for the detonation I’m certain is coming.
“You must be out of your motherfucking mind if you think I’m moving in here with you two. Especially if you’re using that smile on her!” she accuses. “Frankie won’t last five minutes against it and I’m not gonna be locked away while you two are going at it like rabbits all over the damn place, and I know that’s what you’ll do,” she huffs out. “The way you’re looking at her, even now, with me in the room, tells me you want to bend her over something and would probably let me watch just so you could get at her.” Indie turns to Frankie and says reassuringly, “Not that I would watch, because as hot as you are, you’re like a sister to me and it would just be a little too weird.” I’m fighting back my laugh and doing my damnedest to smother my smile, but she’s fucking crazy. Bat shit crazy. She turns her attention back to me, “So the answer is no. Fuck no. Hell to the fuck to the no even.”
“Fine, you can stay at my place then,” Maverick says from where he’s leaning against the doorframe, startling us all. I look back at
Indie, my brows raised. Well, this just got interesting.
“There ya go, Jones. Problem solved,” I tell her mockingly and smile at the wide open mouth and stunned look on her face at Mav’s solution. Swinging my gaze to Frankie, it’s my turn to cross my arms over my chest and widen my stance in preparation for a fight. “I’m not taking no for an answer, Princess. You can’t keep shit from me if you’re in my house where I can make sure that you’re safe. This is—”
“Okay, Deacon,” Frankie says simply. No arguing, no pouting. Just, “okay,” before she goes back to her coffee and the iPad in front of her. I look around the room in confusion. Mav and Indie are in a heated discussion, so they don’t even realize that my girl clearly hit her head harder than they thought.
“I don’t mean for the night, Princess. I mean you’re moving in for the next few months or however long it takes for the case to go to trial.” I say it slowly so there’s not any room for misinterpretation. She looks up at me and nods.
“Okay. Do I have to go with or can I stay he—?” Shaking her head as she’s speaking, she changes her mind midsentence, “No, I’ll go. I don’t want Reggie and Trent packing my panties and stuff.” Slipping off the stool, she leaves me standing in the kitchen completely stunned by how easy that was. I was prepared to use force if necessary. I’m a little worried that I didn’t have to resort to underhandedness to get her to agree.
Frankie turns at the door. “I’ll be ready in just a minute, Deacon. Indie, are you coming with us?” she asks her pain in the ass friend.
“No, I guess I’m going to stay over at Mav’s. We’ll go and get my stuff later. I have a consult for an engagement party in a little while.” Indie snaps her fingers and turns to me, “Speaking of parties, we gotta get started on Frankie’s, Deacon!”
Just as I’m about to agree with her, Frankie says, “Not this year. I want to skip the big party. I would much rather do an intimate dinner, just you, our dads, and my Loves, if you guys don’t mind. We can even celebrate yours and mine together.” She doesn’t wait for us to answer before leaving the kitchen.
I watch her leave and then turn to Indie, “You heard her. Do you want me to handle it or are you going to so that you can charge me a million dollars?” I deadpan.
Indie snickers, “I’ll do it and I’ll only bill you a half mil, no worries.”
The women in my life are gonna be the fucking death of me, I swear.
It doesn’t take us long to pack all Frankie’s stuff up and get it loaded into our two vehicles. From the bedroom where she’s doing a final check to make sure she didn’t forget anything, I hear her phone start playing the song that I loathe because it means Flashdance is calling. Good, I can’t wait for her to tell him that she’s moving in with me. Hands in my pockets, I walk to her room and lean against the door, watching as she paces, hands flying as she speaks in rapid Spanish. She doesn’t sound happy and when she says in English, “It’s not your decision or any of your business where I stay, Cristiano. I’ll be in the studio later for tonight’s class,” Frankie disconnects the call, no goodbye or anything.
“Problems with Flashdance, Princess?” I ask, trying to keep the smug smile off my face since I can’t possibly keep it out of my voice. She spins and huffs out an exasperated breath,
“He’s pissed, wants me to stay at his place.” Her hands are planted on her hips and she’s biting the inside of her lower lip in concentration. I’m not sure what the fuck she’s concentrating so hard on—his place isn’t a choice. Not now or ever.
I bark out a laugh. “Yeah, no. That’s not gonna happen,” I say as I scoop up the duffel bag she has by the door. “You ready to go?” I glance up and she’s still just standing there¸ pissed. “What? You want to go stay with him? Tell me you’re fucking joking, Frankie.” I toss her bag onto the bed and stalk to the middle of the room, stopping when I’m within a foot of where she is. “Tell me that’s where you’d rather be and I’ll take you there,” I lie. Blatantly.
Shaking her head she snorts, “You’re a terrible fucking liar, Deacon.” She reaches up and yanks her hair out of the hair tie binding it and rubs at her temples. “I just want to feel like I’m in control of my own life for five minutes. With you barking orders at me and me knowing that I have no choice, no say in anything because nowhere is safe for me, I’m just a little overwhelmed, a little pissy.”
I take a step forward closing the distance between us and take her gently in my arms. Spearing my fingers through her hair, I tilt her head so that her forehead is resting against my chest and begin to massage.
“Does your head hurt?” I ask softly as I rub circles into her scalp and down to her neck and shoulders where I knead and continue the path back up into her loose hair. She nods against me and sighs in relief as the tension gradually leaves her body. “I’m sorry, Princess. It’s always been my way to take charge when it comes to you. Nobody can ever take care of you like I can and will. It’s your choice though—I don’t want you to feel like a prisoner. I only want to keep you safe.” I place kisses on her lowered head and when she looks up at me, I drag my hands through her hair one last time before linking them at the small of her back.
“I know where I need to be. Where I want to be,” she murmurs in her soft rasp.
Nodding, I bring my hand up and brush aside the hair that’s constantly hiding her blues from me and tuck it behind her ear. As I drop my hand, she grabs it and holds it to her cheek for a second and then she places a kiss to the inside of my wrist just like I always do to her. Pussy that I am when it comes to Frankie, it makes my heart speed up before it settles into a steady tempo. Looking her in the eyes, I take the hand holding my much larger one and flip it so that I can put my lips on her, same as she did to me. She smiles that smile at me. The one that always does my shit in.
“Let’s go then.” Fingers laced with hers, I get the bag from the bed and lead us out of the house. On the porch, I turn to her and hold out my hand for the keys. When she hands them over, I lock up, and as I’m giving them back to her, my eye catches on the gold heart-shaped key chain. “That’s nice, where did it come from?” Flipping the key chain open, she reveals that it’s a locket with her initials on one side and a picture of her and her mom on the other.
“Don’t get mad. I couldn’t get rid of it, it’s the only thing I have of my mom and me. Andrew gave it to me right before my birthday, an early gift.” She takes one last look at the tiny cut-out of their smiling faces before snapping it closed and tossing the keys into her purse. Reggie clears his throat from the bottom of the stairs reminding me that he’s there.
“You two have everything?” he asks in that unnaturally deep voice of his. I look to Frankie for an answer.
“Yes, let’s move me into your house,” she says as she descends the steps.
I love the sound of that more than I should. Eye on the prize, asshole. Stick and move. Stick and motherfucking move.
We weren’t back at my house for more than ten minutes when Frankie says that she’s going to lie down before her class tonight. She looks beat down. Beautiful, but exhausted. I stand at the base of the stairs and watch as she makes her way up, waiting to see which way she turns. Left toward my room or right to hers. When she goes left I can’t help the grin that splits my face. I can’t put the armbar to her just yet with the fight and everything else going on, but that one turn feels like a small victory. I wasn’t bullshitting when I said I was done waiting. I accept that it has to be small wins here and there though and not a complete TKO. I can live with that. As long as I get moments like we had today and her sleeping in my bed even if I’m not in it.
Smile on my face, I head to the den where Sonny and Reggie are having what appears to be a serious discussion. It’s about to get a whole lot more fucking serious. I have yet to talk to him about where the hell they were when Drew managed to get to Frankie and I’m done with the radio silence and letting everyone avoid it. Shit is gonna get hashed out. Now.
“Where�
�s Trent?” I ask curtly. Sonny and Reggie both raise their heads, looking at me warily. I’m incapable of being rational when it comes to Frankie and they’re both aware of it. They’re a little nervous right now, rightly so.
“I sent him with Mav and Indie to get her things and take them back to his place. I didn’t want them at her house alone, just in case,” my brother tells me in a placating tone. He better talk sweet to me—shit’s about to get ugly. I can feel it.
“So now everyone wants to do their job? Now that it’s too late?” I stare pointedly at Reggie who shifts uncomfortably.
“It wasn’t like that. Dial it down a notch, brother,” Sonny warns.
“No? Then how was it?” My gaze bounces between Sonny and Reggie waiting for one of them to speak up. Clearly Sonny is already aware of what went down. The fact that Reg is still sitting here and not fired should reassure me about his actions that night, but all of a sudden I’m ready for a fight. I know that my older brother would have handed him his ass and his walking papers if he thought he was liable.
“Why don’t you sit down and let Reggie explain?” he suggests.
Folding my arms over my chest, my feet planted wide, I shake my head no.
“Nah, I’m good. I’m ready for one of you to explain to me how Drew was able to put hands on Frankie though.”
My brother nods to Reggie, indicating that he should go ahead with his story. Any second now my molars are going to be nothing but dust, I’m grinding them so hard. I can’t help it though; I’m heated all over again just thinking about getting that phone call. The fear it was happening again, and that this time she wouldn’t survive it.
Reggie leans forward, folding his nearly seven-foot frame in half as he places his forearms on his knees, his fingers clasped loosely and dangling. Head bent, he lets out a deep breath and then meets my glare.