I’m really doing this?
As we drive, I text Daddy telling him I’m staying to study and not to expect me until after seven. Two minutes later, Daddy replies with “okay,” but warns me not to be late and reminds me, him and mom have a Mason’s thing tonight. I sigh with relief knowing that Rick and I have more time than I thought.
Rick is looking at the road and I sneak a peek at his profile. Damn, this boy is so handsome! We pull up at the lights and he glances at me and grabs my hand. Lacing his fingers through mine, he rests our hands on his thigh.
We turn under the railway bridge and I’m now feeling nervous. I’ve never been to this side of town and the streets are like rabbit warrens. “Where are we going?”
“It’s a surprise,” he says and we head out of town.
Ten minutes later, he turns down a rough track. When we can go no further, he pulls on the parking break and jogs around to open my door.
“Where are we?” It feels secluded and I’m conscious that my life choices recently have all been bad. Am I making another huge mistake?
“This way,” he says and he puts out his hand again and, like a fool, I take it. When we walk through the trees, I’m astonished at the field that opens out. Dotted around the entire space are giant heads. It takes me a minute to recognize they are all our presidents and I stare at them, my eyes widening in excitement.
I have lived my entire life in this area and had no idea these were here. Grass and weeds have grown up around them and moss has settled in the crevices and wrinkles of our great leaders.
“Wow.” I don’t know what else to say as I take in the rows and rows of giant busts all lined up facing the same direction.
Rick grins at me. “This was my favorite place as a kid. The first time Mom brought me here, I spent the whole day just sitting in the sun mesmerized by them.”
“Where’d they all come from?” I turn in a circle. The statues have weathered tear stains that run down their faces and cracked crumbling noses that make them look like ancient boxers. But, despite the sorry condition they are in, there is something both eerie and beautiful about them.
“An old theme park that closed down. Come see this, it’s my favorite.” Rick looks like a little boy, all wide excited eyes and a big beaming smile that shows off his dimple. His joy at the place is infectious and we walk hand in hand. I’m surprised at how easy it is to be with him and the conversation flows.
“There.” He stops and I look up.
Abraham Lincoln is towering above me. He must be twenty-feet high and he has an ominous gaping hole in the back of his head that brings to mind the tragic ending to his life.
We visit all of our great leaders, and Rick tells me stuff I never knew about these characters from our past. He told me he was smart and I’m ashamed that I didn’t believe him, because this guy really is.
We lean against George Washington and Rick is looking at me in a way that makes my insides mushy. He puts his hands to my face and steps a little closer. “I’m gonna kiss you now, Franny, is that okay?”
Every word escapes me so I nod and the next moment his lips are on mine and his tongue is in my mouth—exploring, delving, tasting. When it’s over, we are both panting and his forehead rests against mine.
“What the fuck are you doing to me, Franny?” His voice is hoarse, and I’m not a hundred percent sure I know what he is talking about. Rick sighs and takes my hand. “Come on, sweet lips, I want to show you the best bit.”
We sit on the fence and look back across the field of busts. It’s grown late and the sun is beginning to set. The sky is an orange and red blaze and it looks like the presidents are emerging from flames. “This is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”
“Isn’t it?” He lifts me down from the fence and I’m sad that nightfall is cutting our date short. “I should get you home, Franny,” he says as we finish another delicious kiss and I groan because I do not want this moment to end.
As we drive back to town, my stomach gurgles with hunger. “Let’s go to Paulo’s and eat.” It’s my favorite Italian place and is only two blocks from here and I think it will be the most perfect way to end this date.
“I’m not hungry.” He says and his stomach growls to say otherwise.
“Oh, please,” I whine. “The seafood there is so awesome and…”
He glares at me. “Seafood? Do I look like I can afford seafood?” Now his eyes are dark and his mouth is turned up in a sneer.
“It’s okay, my treat.” I pull out the credit card Daddy pays off each month.
But Ricky snaps at me. “I said, I wasn’t hungry. Besides, I have shit to do. Some of us don’t have Daddies to hand out fancy pieces of fucking plastic.”
The car comes to a sudden halt and I realize we are at my house. Rick leans across me and opens the door. “You’d better hurry on in, Miss. Hancock.”
His tone is sarcastic but I don’t understand why. I stumble out of the car and as soon as the door slams shut, he floors the accelerator. The T-bird lurches forward in a squeal and I’m left sniffing burnt rubber and wondering, what the hell just happened?
I look back at the house and am happy to see my parents are still not home. At least I won’t have to face them and can lie about what time I got back. But my feet don’t want to budge from where they are. I want to turn back the clocks, time travel back to the presidents’ field, and be back in Rick’s arms.
Then, out of the darkness, I see red lights and they are moving toward me at an alarming pace. As they are almost level, Rick’s T-bird spins around and his headlights illuminate me on the sidewalk. Two seconds later, he vaults out of the car and I am in his arms. He buries his head in my neck, his mouth nibbling my throat, his hands squeezing my ass.
“I’m so sorry, Franny.” His voice cracks. “W-will you forgive me for being such an idiot?”
I have whiplash from his mood swings, but I don’t care. He has a tight hold of me and his teeth are grazing my collarbone. “Y-yes,” I splutter.
Rick steps back and holds my hands. “You will?”
I nod and he lets out a loud holler then leaps back into his Thunderbird. Grinning back at me, he yells, “Come out again with me, Franny?”
“Just tell me where and when.”
I am laughing as he floors the accelerator once more and speeds down the road screaming my name.
Chapter 9
RICK
Fran. Franny. Francesca.
Jeez, I think I’m obsessed.
Fran. Franny. Francesca.
Every version of her name is on replay—I can’t get her out of my mind.
“Fran,” I call out but she doesn’t hear me. “Franny,” I call again from the school parking lot, but she’s still headed towards the after-school bus. “Francesca!” I shout one last time, and those beautiful blue eyes squint in my direction with a smile and...
Oh, fuck me! I just got a lip-lick.
Franny skips towards me. She looks so cute and innocent with her knapsack hanging and the books snug in her arms. The wind picks up and helps her pleated skirt bounce higher as she walks, showing off her thighs again. God, I love those legs.
I act cool, keeping my ass parked against my Thunderbird until she stops right in front of me, swaying. “I didn’t see you around campus at all today. I was looking for you.”
“Oh, were you?” I smile with a tickle in my groin. She scowls, so I show her my filthy hands. I washed them the best I could, but there’s still plenty of black grease beneath the nails. “I was under someone’s hood getting dirty for most of the day.”
Her nose crinkles. “Under someone’s hood?” It’s so cute she might be jealous.
“Yeah,” I antagonize her. “A Lexus LX needed a little TLC.” I point. Francesca’s head turns around to spy the vehicle I was working on all day. “That’s the dean’s car and he gave me a hundred fifty bucks to tune her up and give her a new wax job. So, I figure since I got a little cash—” I cock my head to capture he
r gaze with a hopeful smile. “Maybe I could take you out on a real date this time with food and everything,” I chortle.
“Oh, but—” She bats her eyes. “I had a really great time last night.”
I bow my head, recalling all the thoughts I had last night after I took Franny home. I couldn’t sleep. Of course, I’d dreamt of the Franny from the Spin Motor commercial before at least a hundred times doing that crazy lip-lick except she’d be licking my lips instead of her own and on occasion, my dick.
But last night was a little different. Last night, I’d dreamt about our kisses—the ones we’d already had. I dreamt about the way Franny yanked my collar after the party to kiss me. I wasn’t just turned on by the fact a rich brat was desperate to get with me, but that despite her drunkenness, I sensed she genuinely liked me. I dreamt about the sexy dance she did with that Prick at the party and how I’d like for her to make it up to me by dancing with me, backing her ass right up against my groin, instead. I’ve dreamt about holding her, sitting down to have a meal with her, and just talking with her. I suspect Franny needs someone to talk to—especially about her father who’s a jerk—which is something I might relate to. And of all the things I could’ve fantasized about, I was tickled when I dreamt about what it would be like to bring Franny home to meet my Ma because I just know Ma would love her.
I tug at the knot of Franny’s shirt at her waist. “So, is that a yes? You comin’ with me?”
Both of our heads jerk in the direction of a large engine cranking as the bus driver shuts the double swing door.
“I guess, I am.” She smiles at me. “If you don’t mind taking me home.” She sways and the hem of her skirt spins, making it float around her.
I open the door for her. “I’m honored to take you home.” Actually, I’m thrilled!
“But I can’t go out tonight,” she continues, getting in, “I’ve got homework.”
And now, I’m not so thrilled but sad. I never thought I could hate homework anymore than I did when I was in school.
As I drive Franny home, I keep glancing in her direction. Her long golden hair is blowing in the wind and every once in a while, she’ll glance back with a playful smile and a crimson blush spreads across her cheeks. I tell her to come closer and she obeys, scooting right across my bench seat to land flush against my side. I put my arm around her and she doesn’t seem to mind that I’ve taken the long route to her home.
Of course, there are Pricks to be seen as I drive through Franny’s rich neighborhood. Old geezers are sipping lemonade on their front porches spying us as we roll through in my rusty Thunderbird. We drive past a group of teen Pricks huddled and talking, digging their brand new Yeezy Adidas into an epoxied natural pebble stone driveway. They look like vultures—their eyes narrowing. The rich Pricks’ heads turn, watching Franny and I roll through as if we’re trespassing and have no business cruising along these pristine public streets.
I hate the way they’re looking at me. It infuriates me really and I’m considering whether I should stop the car to get out and give those vultures a taste of my flesh, which they seem eager get their beaks on. I’ll give them the thin bits of skin that lay across my knuckles, knocking it right down their throats.
“Rick?” Franny squeezes my thigh and I snap right out of angry mode. “Rick are you okay?” she asks. Her eyes are wide. She looks worried. Franny can already read my not-the-best intentions in the same way I can read Teddy and Zane whenever they’re in demon mode—ready to get even with someone who’s wronged them.
I take a breath. “Yeah,” I shrug, gripping my angel to pull her in and kiss the halo at the top of her head. The smell of sweet strawberry from her hair products makes me think of what a piece of shit I might be. This is the second time I got this girl in my car—sober—and rather than enjoying the moment, I’m pissing the time away, focusing my attention on a bunch of wussy Pricks.
“So, what do you want to do tonight?” I ask, pulling up to the curb in front of her house. It doesn’t look like anyone’s home.
Her face falls flat as she tilts her head. “I told you, Rick. I have homework. I can’t go out and besides it’s a school night. I’m not allowed out on a school night. Not to mention, I’m grounded. It’s a triple whammy against us for this evening.”
“Fuck the triple whammy. A Prank would never let any of those things stand in the way of what we want. Not homework. Not school. And certainly not parents,” I boast.
She rolls her eyes with a giddy smile. “Rick, I did not get a 4:0 GPA by avoiding homework and flipping off school. And, I’m not a Prank.”
I grab her jaw and lay a sloppy one all over the lower half of her face—a kiss lathered with spit and tongue. Her eyes are still closed and her tongue is hanging out of her mouth when I pull back. “No, but you want to be a Prank’s girl. Don’t you?” Her breath hitches as I lean in and reach behind her to grab and dig through her bag.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m looking for your phone. I still don’t have your number.”
When I find her iPhone X, I hand it to her. “Send me a text.” When I hear my phone ding in my pocket, I pull it out, flipping it open to make sure I’ve got her number.
Kiss me, her text says which excites me, and I spin my head from side to side to see if anyone is looking before I get between Franny’s knees, laying flat on top of her and kissing her.
“Rick,” she laughs, pushing. “Not here. It’s the middle of the day and my neighbors will see. They’ll tell my dad. The adults in this neighborhood are worse about gossip than kids at school.”
I nip at her neck. “Nobody’s around. I checked.” I slide my hand up her thigh.
“No!” she grips my hand with a tight squeeze.
Ugh! The tips of my fingers are so close to her crease, I can feel the heat escaping from her core.
“I’m serious,” she pants and she does look serious. “Maybe we could see each other this weekend.”
I sit up pulling her with me and flop back into the driver’s seat. “The weekend is too far away. I can’t wait that long.”
She sighs. “I know and since I’m grounded, I’ll still have to sneak out.”
Sneak out? Yes! “And how do you plan to do that?”
“The way I always do.” She points to an oak tree that looks like it’s centuries old with branches that stem low from the trunk and then span wide, reaching high, right up and over the top of her house. “That’s my room on the second floor. It’s an easy climb.”
Franny pouts as she gathers her books. I’m ecstatic she seems as disappointed as I am that we have to part ways right now.
I run my fingers through her hair. “Will you call me when you’re done studying?”
“It’ll be late.” She grimaces as she climbs out. “I have two exams tomorrow.”
Fuck, I hate school, but I do like the idea that Franny is committed to her work and that she’s smart.
“I don’t care what time it is. Call me when you’re done. I want to hear your voice before I go to sleep. Okay?”
Franny gets out, shutting the door. “Okay,” she smiles and I wait, watching her stride across her lawn and up her front steps until she’s inside.
Starting up the engine, I pause. I’m turning into such a sap! I already miss her.
Flipping open my phone, I text her. You forgot to say goodbye.
She responds, I don’t want to say goodbye.
I text her back. Go to the window and wave to me.
Okay, she replies.
Looking up, I see her split the curtains in her bedroom, revealing herself. She waves and out of nowhere she turns around to lift her skirt, wafting the hem, and showing me a little bit of her right butt cheek.
Ugh. She’s killing me! My junk gets instahard and I’m tempted to walk right up into that mansion and smack that pretty little round ass in frilly white undies.
From the corner of my eye, I notice a car coming from around the bend. It looks like the BMW
that was parked in Franny’s driveway when I dropped her off the night she was drunk. Reversing into the driveway behind me, I take off. I do not want to be seen because I do not want Franny’s punishment to get extended any longer than it already is.
I’ve been texting Franny all afternoon and well into the evening. Sometimes she responds right away. Sometimes she doesn’t and this time, it’s taking her nearly two hours to reply. I’m so fucking anxious waiting for her text, I’ve smoked nearly an entire pack of cigs, which I never do. I know this stuff will kill you, but nicotine keeps me calm and cool.
I’ve got one cig left, so I leave it in the pack and decide to shower. I brush my teeth, smear on some borrowed deodorant—compliments of Zane—and smooth shaving cream over my face, wondering why the hell I’m making an attempt to clean up so good after ten at night.
“You know exactly why,” I tell my reflection in the bathroom mirror and raise my brow and scrape the razor across my jaw. “Because if that girl doesn’t text you back, then you can assume she’s in trouble and you’re going to have to go over to her house to make sure she’s okay.”
Franny does have a rich Prick for a father and no one knows better than me and Ma what a rich Prick can do to his daughter.
My heart skips a beat when my phone alerts me to a new message and I scurry out of the bathroom into my bedroom, skipping past Ma and Teddy talking in the hall and gripping my towel loose at my waist, feeling like its about to fall free, which it does. My ass is totally exposed as I cradle my phone with both hands.
“Ricky!” my mother yells. “Put some pants on.”
I turn around enthusiastically. “Ma! You won’t believe it.”
“Believe what, honey?” she says, trying to sound supportive while avoiding a look at my dangling bits.
Heart Broke (Broken Home Book 1) Page 7
