Love Burns

by Mandi Beck

  Frankie squeezes my hand and smiles up at me, tears making her blues glisten brightly. “I did that,” I say reverently.

  On a chuckle, he states matter-of-factly, “You did that.”

  Bending, I place a kiss to Frankie’s upturned lips. “We did that,” I murmur against them.

  We walk out of the doctor’s office with all of Frankie’s vitamins, appointment cards, and extra swag that pregnant chicks apparently get at their first visit. “Do you mind coming with me to the EWF?” I ask as I open the door and help her into the Rover.

  “No, that’s fine. Will you feed me after though?” she asks me, buckling in.

  “Oh, I’ll feed you all right, Princess,” I tease, smiling as she laughs.

  Hopping in, I maneuver us out of Lincoln Pak and head toward Michigan Avenue where the offices are located. I’m not sure exactly what they have in mind, but I hope they have clothes there for me. My cargo shorts and Hawks shirt probably not what they’re looking for if they want to do a photo shoot. I guess we’ll find out. As we pull into the underground garage, I look over at Frankie who has fallen asleep, her head resting against the glass. “Baby, time to get up, we’re here.” I run the back of my fingers across her face, then pick up her hand and place a kiss to her wrist.

  Eyes fluttering open, she pins me with those blues and I can’t help but smile. We may not be all the way yet, but we’re close, and close is good. I do my best not to push her. A lot of shit has happened between us, and right now I’m just taking it day by day, bit by bit, at the pace that Frankie has set. Today has been an especially good day though. A glimpse at what our life together will be like once we get rid of all this bullshit, fear, criminals, and whatever else. We’ll get there though. There’s no other option for me.

  Placing a quick kiss to her lips, “Come on, my gorgeous, knocked up girl. Let’s see what the fuck they want so that we can go get you some eats.”

  Frankie nods, flipping down the mirror on the visor to mess with her face and hair as I make my way over to her door. She pops a piece of gum, offering me one as we head into the building. “Did Mav say what they wanted you here for?”

  The elevator doors slide closed behind us. “He said something about promo stuff, a shoot maybe. I don’t know.”

  Once we arrive on the right floor, we make our way to the receptionist, who I’m thrilled as fuck to see isn’t the same one who propositioned me the last time I was here. I don’t even have to give her my name. “Mr. Love, Miss De Rosa, you can go on back to the studio, your brother is waiting. Can I bring you anything?” she asks, her gaze flicking between the two of us.

  “Just some water would be great, thank you,” I tell her, my hand on the small of Frankie’s back, guiding her down the wicked long hallway to the last door. I don’t bother knocking, just walk in, and immediately start looking for Maverick. Frankie spots him over by the window, talking with Caz, a producer and photographer that we’ve worked with on a few different campaigns for the EWF.

  Mav looks up just as we start his way. “Little brother, Princess, glad you guys made it. We were just talking about the spread and what we need to get done.”

  I shake Caz’s hand, as Mav pulls Frankie in for a hug, kisses her forehead, and pokes at her belly. “Go ahead in the dressing room, Deac. I ran home and got your shorts. They still have to do makeup and all that shit though. Then we can get started.”

  There’s no use bitching about the makeup, so I just nod and lay a quick kiss on Frankie and head off to get ready. The quicker we get this shit finished, the quicker we can get out of here and I can work Frankie out of her clothes.

  An hour later and we’re still here, taking picture after picture. I’m not sure how many fucking pictures they need of me, and I’m just about to ask when I hear a bunch of giggling and high-pitched voices. Glancing toward the door, I see a group of Cage girls, hovering in their tiny ass bikinis, hair and makeup done like they’re on their way to fucking prom. The fuck? I don’t need to see who they are to know that I’ve fucked them all. This is the last thing I need right now. I turn away from them to find Frankie watching me, an unreadable expression on her face. Mav standing next to her looking apprehensive. My gaze trained on the Princess, I call out, “Caz, what are they doing here?”

  He pokes his head from behind his camera. “Oh, they’re here for either your billboard or the cover. Not sure yet. We’re still waiting on one mor—”

  “I’m here,” interrupts a whiny, shrill voice. Veronica.

  Still locked on Frankie, her face is no longer unreadable. She’s furious and I can’t blame her. Never paying a second of attention to Veronica who is now stopped in front of me reaching her hand out to touch the Mizpah charm hanging from the chain around my neck, I snatch her wrist before she can touch it. “No,” I say loudly. It’s meant for her. It’s meant for Caz. There is no way in fuck this is gonna go down. I let go of Veronica, and take a step back out of her reach.

  Alarmed, Caz puts his camera down. “No what?”

  “No, I’m not posing with her. I don’t want to pose with any of them, but I definitely won’t be posing with her.” I still have yet to look away from my girl. I need her to see that I choose her. Even for something as simple as this. It’s Frankie.

  “D, it’s just a few pictures,” Caz says.

  “Don’t care what it is; not doing it, my man. If you have to call Derek and tell him, that’s cool. I really don’t give a shit. There’s nothing and no one who is gonna change my mind.” Maverick hasn’t uttered a single word. He doesn’t even bother.

  “Oh my God. Baby much?” Veronica hisses as she stomps over toward Caz, ready to light into him, I’m sure, when she comes to an abrupt halt and does a double take in Frankie’s direction. “You’re fucking pregnant?” she all but screeches. Whipping around to face me, her eyes filled with hatred, though I’m not sure if it’s for me or the Princess. “What a fucking joke. It’s probably not even your kid, Deacon. Everyone knows that you guys have been broken up. It’s all over the circuit; the girls were all really happy about it,” she says snidely, making it seem like they were benefiting from my single status. They were not. Turning her snake eyes back on Frankie, Mav steps between them.

  “Caz, you need to get her the fuck out of here before shit gets ugly, you feel me?” My voice is tight, my resolve about to snap.

  “That’s enough, Veronica. You can go now. Caz will make sure that you get paid for your time,” Mav tells her firmly, still shielding Frankie.

  “This is almost comical. All of you are so pussy-whipped.” Tapping her chin, she faces me again, a sick look of merriment mixed in with all that venom. “You all bang her, don’t you? She has the Love brothers jumping at her every word. You’re. All. Fucking. The. Princess.” She snorts and turns to Frankie who has come out from behind Mav’s protection. “There’s no way that’s his baby. He always wraps it. Always. No matter how many of us he had in his bed. He never forgot,” Veronica says smugly.

  I’m just about to hit a woman for the first time in my life when Frankie takes a step closer to Veronica. “See, that’s where you and I are different, doll. For one, he’s never wrapped it with me. Never. There was no forgetting. And it’s only ever been him and I in his bed.” Frankie shrugs her shoulders nonchalantly. “He doesn’t have to compensate by bringing other girls into our bedroom because I’m enough for him. I fuck him so good, it’s only ever gonna be me in his bed. Oh, and that’s another thing. You’ve never even been in his bed.”

  I watch in awe as my girl smiles coyly at Veronica. It shouldn’t turn me on to watch her put this bitch in her place, but fuck me if it doesn’t. A quick glance at Mav and I see that while he may not be turned on—fucker better not be—he’s still impressed with the way the Princess just handled Veronica. Caz's fidgeting catches my attention—homeboy just looks nervous. Bet he won’t make this mistake again.

  My lips kicked up in a smile, focus back on Frankie, when Veronica says, “You’re nothing bu
t a whore and he’ll get tired of you and that fucking kid. You should do yourself a favor and go have an abortion n—” She’s stopped mid-word by a smack across the face. And then before she can react, another one cracks through the room, echoing in the sudden silence before the melee erupts. Charging forward, I push past the half-naked women standing there gawking and gasping and rushing to Veronica’s aid as she stands with a hand to her flaming cheek to usher Frankie away from the chaos, Mav right beside us.

  I make it about three steps before Frankie ducks under my arm. “You never, ever speak of my child again. There’s only one whore in this room and it’s you. Be pissed off all you want that you were just another of ‘Deacon’s girls,’ and that I’m the girl, but I swear on everything that is holy if you ever even think about my baby again I will snatch those extensions out of your head so quick you’ll be bald before you know what the hell happened.” Frankie spins on her heel and strides into the dressing room slamming the door. My brother and I look at each other too shocked to completely understand how shit went south so quickly.

  “I’m going to check on the Princess; you handle Caz and this whole clusterfuck.” Mav nods in agreement and I take off after my girl. As hot as that was, she scared the shit out of me. I’m pretty sure pregnant chicks shouldn’t be slapping people around. No matter how much they deserve it. Pushing open the door, I step into the small room they use for wardrobe, closing it behind me. “You okay, baby?” I ask gently.

  She nods from her spot on the couch, her head resting on the back. “I’m fine. Now.” Her voice is barely above a whisper, but I hear the tremble in it.

  Three long strides and I’m kneeling in front of her. “You sure you’re okay? The baby?”

  Slowly raising her head to look at me, she nods again. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have hit her. I just . . . she just . . . I’m sorry.”

  “Frankie, you have nothing to be sorry for. I’m not mad at you for hitting her. I think I was just about to. I’m just worried about you and the baby. You can’t be going around beating chicks up. ” Brushing back the hair that’s hiding her blues from me, I tuck it behind her ear and smile. “You know you’re a total badass though, right?” A small snort leads to a laugh and just like that, everything is right in my world. “Listen here, little mama, no more fights for you, my tiny scrapper.” Chuckling, I raise her wrist to my lips and lay a kiss on her, standing as I do.

  There’s a knock at the door and Mav pokes his head in. “Both my fighters okay in here?” he jokes, trying to keep shit light.

  “Yeah, we’re good, brother.”

  “Good. Caz just needs a few more shots and he said he’ll have enough for what Derek wants.”

  “We’re done for the day, Mav. I want to get her home and fed. It’s been a long day.” Making eye contact with him, I see that there’s no room for argument here. I have to jump through the Federation’s hoops until they decide whether they’re going to let me fight, and Frankie still has no clue about any of it. She’d feel immense guilt and I won’t have her feeling anything over that fucker, Andrew, ever again.

  Groaning, I turn back to Frankie. “You wanna stay in here?” I ask, giving her an out. I just want to get this over with.

  Eyes narrowed, she addresses Mav. “Is she still here?”

  “No! Hell no! I had no clue she was coming. If I’d had any idea that she’s who Caz called, I would have told him it wasn’t gonna happen.”

  “But he still has to pose with the other girls?” the Princess asks him.

  Scrunching up his face as if it pains him to say it, he answers her in an apologetic tone. “Yes. I promise it will be quick though.”

  “I’ll stay here, Deac. Come get me when it’s done. I’m emotionally drained and seeing them hang all over you might be enough to put me over the edge. Or at the very least have me smacking bitches again,” she jokes.

  The Princess may be joking around, but she’s not feeling it. She’s still on edge. Watching my girl, “Mav, tell Caz I’ll only pose with one girl. If he doesn’t like it I can pose by myself.”

  “Okay, bro. I’ll tell him to pick one and then we’ll get the fuck out of here. I’m about done with this place for the day too.” He goes to close the door but I yell for him.

  “No, Mav. Tell him to send them all home. I’ll pose with Frankie if he wants a chick in the mix.” Both of them stare at me open-mouthed.

  “Uh, Deac? She’s pregnant.”

  “What the fuck does that matter?” I ask him.

  “Deacon, I look like hell and he’s right—I’m pregnant, nobody wants to see all this,” she says, waving a hand in front of her body.

  “I want to. Don’t really care about what anyone else wants.” Shrugging, I look at my brother, “Make it happen, mighty Mav.” With a smart ass salute, he leaves us alone to tell Caz about the change of plans. My attention back on Frankie, I tell her, “I’m gonna send the makeup chick in here, I’ll wait with the guys.” Before she has a chance to argue, I get the hell out of there. As I see it, this is a perfect solution to the day’s problem.

  Twenty minutes later and Frankie finally makes it out of the dressing room wearing a hot pink sports bra and tiny ass black shorts, the “Hitman” shirt dangling from her fingers. “Hey, Nadalynn, where the hell are her clothes?” I ask the stylist. “I thought we sent her back there to get dressed; you sent her out with less clothing than she went in with.”

  “Well, the other girls all had their bikinis on. I didn’t have an extra one lying around, and since she’s not a ring girl anyway, I didn’t want to make her look like one. It was either this or naked. Your choice,” she says smugly.

  I don’t really care about what she’s wearing—I know where she belongs and to whom, I just like to blow her shit. Its payback for making me wear makeup for these shoots. I shake my head in mock disapproval and hold out my hand for Frankie. “Come on, Princess. Let’s get this over with so that you can put some clothes on.” My teasing makes her laugh and Nadalynn shoots me the bird.

  Still laughing, I lead Frankie over to where Caz and Mav are waiting. “Okay, I’m going to pose you a few different ways because I’m still not sure what their plans are. Do you want me to try and shoot around . . .” he asks as he indicates Frankie’s bump. We both answer at once—“Yes.” “No.” Caz’s head swivels from me to her and back, looking ready to bolt.

  “No,” I say again emphatically.

  Huffing, she gives in. “Do whatever he wants, I just want to go and get some food,” Frankie tells Caz, who now looks relieved.

  For the next little while, Caz poses us and takes what feels like a million pictures. We’re just about to wrap up when Derek Eliott, President of the EWF and my boss, bursts into the room.

  “What the hell is this bullshit that your little girlfriend smacked up one of my Cage girls? I won’t have one of your flavors coming into my building and causing trouble,” he booms angrily.

  Stepping forward, I put myself in front of Frankie before he makes it over to us. “She had it coming, Derek. And watch what you say when you’re speaking about my girl,” I warn, my voice low. There’s a stunned silence that takes hold of the studio and everyone in it. I don’t really care. He won’t talk about Frankie like that. “Speaking of ring girls, I don’t want Veronica working my fights any more. She’s fucking crazy and she crossed a line tonight, a few of them actually.”

  Derek scoffs and points a ringed finger at me. “D, I hate to break it to you, but you’re in no goddamn position to be making demands.”

  Brushing aside his comment because I don’t want to get into a conversation about where I stand with the EWF in front of Frankie, I interrupt him before he can say more. “I’m not making demands, Derek. I’m simply stating that if she’s working the Cage, I will not be in it. Simple as that. Chicks like her are a dime a dozen. Find someone else.”

  “See, this is why fighters need to keep their dicks in their pants. I don’t need this shit right now and I for damn sure don
’t need your girlfriend busting up my girls’ faces, D! It’s unacceptable,” he bellows. I’m about to answer him when Frankie steps out from behind me.

  “I apologize for hitting someone under your employment, Derek, but Deacon is right, she had it coming,” she tells a stunned Derek.

  Once he’s able to close his mouth and collect himself he stammers out, “F—Frankie? You’re the girlfriend?” he asks. This is not a stuttering man. He is all business, all the time. I’m not sure why he’s so surprised. Or maybe it’s the fact that he was trash talking one of the most respected men in MMA’s daughter. “I’m sorry, I guess I nev—” he stops mid-sentence and focuses on me. “Is she pregnant? Are you pregnant?” His attention on Frankie again before bouncing back to me. “Deacon?” Derek looks a little frazzled and a whole lot confused. “Not to be insensitive or anything, but now is not the time to be losing focus. We’re talking about the belt here.”

  “Yes, Frankie is having my baby. And no, you don’t have to worry about me losing focus. I know what I have to do.”

  He looks like he wants to argue but instead nods his head in agreement. “Okay then. Caz find a way to spin this. His female fans will be pissed, but the guys will appreciate Frankie. Use it to our advantage. Make it sexy, but not too sexy or else I’ll have Guy all over my ass.” Leaving as abruptly as he came, he stops at the door. “I’ll make sure that Veronica isn’t on your circuit. Just do me a favor and stay out of goddamn trouble, D. I can only do so much.” The door slams loudly behind him.

  I grin down at Frankie. “That went well, yeah?”

  My birthday, and I can’t even catch a break. Sonny has had me in the gym since five this fucking morning and it’s now nearly nine. Walking into the house, I toss my keys and the rest of my shit in the bowl on the counter. The house is quiet aside from the music that Frankie always has playing. Walking into the media room, I see Reggie and Trent picking up cups and bowls. “Hey, brother, happy birthday,” Reggie greets. Trent raises a fist for me to tap.