by Emilia Finn
“We’ll keep you safe.”
“You can’t, Aiden. You just… can’t. He’s too big.”
“Too big? You’re standing behind five two-hundred pound fighters. We’ll--”
“No, he’s not big. Not physically. Not like you guys. I mean he’s powerful. He’s a powerful man. He has people watching, everywhere. Always.”
“Who is he?”
Tina pauses again, taking a deep breath. This is it. This is the big finale. The big announcement. She takes another deep breath, preparing herself. “Sean Frankston.”
Frankston… Sean Frankston… “I don’t know him,” I tell her, running this fuckers name through my mind and coming up empty.
“Are you sure?” she asks with a lifted brow. “Think about it. I know this is a small town in the back of satans asshole, but think bigger. Think big city.”
“Frankston…” I have no fucking id-- “Frankston Industries?”
No fucking way.
Frankston Industries is a legitimate front, a company that sells electronics and white goods, but it’s said to earn most of its income selling hard drugs to little kids.
They have networks all over the country, and minions standing outside schools, creating their army of little people selling bad shit to littler people.
“You’re a Frankston?”
“No. I’m not,” she snaps, sitting up fully now, crossing her legs and glaring at me. “No. I never married him. I knew better, even before I knew.”
“Did you know how he made his money?” I ask her, knowing my voice is bordering on accusation but I can’t hold it back. I’m not trying to judge her, but Frankston’s is big. Infamous. None of the charges or accusations stick, but everyone knows.
“No, not at first. I thought he was rich because of his stores. Four hundred and twelve stores nationwide,” she says, bitterly reciting the jingle from the television ad. I’ve seen it a billion times. She has the inflection perfected.
“I didn’t know. I just loved the lavish lifestyle. I came from a solidly middle class family. I went to public schools. I was never hungry or anything, but when I was nineteen and met this handsome man who bought me all the pretty baubles and said all the nice things… well, I fancied myself in love. I didn’t ask questions for a long time. He was wonderful to me. He didn’t hurt me until later, until after I started asking questions. I heard things. I saw things. I asked about them, and that was when he decided he was done wooing me and wanted to own me instead. Like an acquisition. A company merger. My folks thought it was nice, because suddenly they didn’t have to live middle class anymore.
“I didn’t know about… the other stuff, until he was locking me in basements and beating me daily. I didn’t know,” she says, angry and devastated at the same time.
“And so that’s Princess Peaches story.”
Well, fuck me.
Twelve
Tina
Rubberneckers
I fell asleep late last night, lying beside Evie as exhaustion overtook my body.
I told my story.
For the first time ever, I let it out, purging myself of the poisonous details and fears I’ve carried for what feels like a lifetime. He’s the only person in the whole world that knows; I trusted him, knowing, hoping, he would never betray us.
He knows who I am now. He knows who Evie is. And he knows who Sean is.
He could call Sean today and hand us straight over, but I have to trust he wouldn’t do that. I don’t think he would.
I fell asleep, having wrung my body inside out, to Aiden lying across from me, our heads on the same pillow, both of us turned toward each other with Evie nestled between.
I fell asleep watching his gray eyes study mine, his lightly stubbled jaw grinding back and forth as he fought his anger.
He took everything in, he heard me out, but I know things changed once I told him who Sean was. Once he figured out what the father of my baby does for a living.
I’m guilty by association, proven by the fact Aiden was no longer lying with us when I woke again a few short hours later.
It’s not surprising to me that I dreamed of Sean again; I do so often now. I just want him to leave me the hell alone, but even though we’ve escaped him physically, he’s still around. With just a name drop, Sean has already turned Aiden against me. His opinion of me, which was already low, plummeting.
Guilty by association.
I just hope he doesn’t hurt Evie now that he knows who she is too. She is the heiress to the Frankston Empire, I guess. Not that she’ll ever claim it. I’m hoping we never see Sean again, but that doesn’t change the fact she is a Frankston.
There was no way Sean would allow me to give our daughter my own last name.
Katelyn Frankston exists on paper.
I woke in the early morning hours, long before regular people will be waking, alone and cold, since I was still on top of the covers.
Guilty by association.
He knows who we are now, and he’s gone. Not that I can blame him. I don’t, not even a little bit.
If nothing else, I’m thankful for what Aiden did give us last night. It was nice falling asleep with someone else being the protector, if only for a while.
I left Evie for just a few minutes as I padded out of our room and downstairs. I checked the front door, triple checking that all the locks were set. Then I checked the back door and every window in between.
I looked on the long couch in the living room, wondering if maybe Aiden had just done the gentlemanly thing and left us to sleep there. It seemed like something he would do. But it was empty. Cold.
He left.
After checking the locks one last time, I went back upstairs, stopping in the bathroom to pee and brush my teeth, then I went back to bed, pulling Evie up so her head rested on the pillow, then I hopped under the covers with her, soaking her snuggly body in.
All I ever wanted, all I ever wished and hoped and prayed for while I was locked away from her, was for her. She’s all I need in this life.
And I have her.
We’ll be okay.
~*~
“Eat your cereal, baby.”
Evie flicks her spoon in the milk, thinking she’s funny for making it splash and land on Jacks hand as he sits beside her.
He smirks, turning his eyes down at her but not moving his head. His grin stretches up the side of his face, his sneaky dimple winking, his eyes twinkling mischievously.
“Jack, if you tickle her,” I caution him before he does just that. “If you make her spill her cereal, you’ll be in trouble.”
“Why’re you always spoiling the fun?” he grumbles, though I watch as his hand creeps along the table, taunting Evie as she giggles.
“Seriously, kid. We’ll be rolling.”
“Ooh, that actually sounds like fun,” he says, blatantly winking at me. Winking! Flirty little shit.
“Jack!” Bobby snaps, entering the kitchen and smacking Jack on the back of the head. “We don’t disrespect them unless we’re already dating them. That’s just rude.”
“Bobby!” Kit barks, entering the kitchen behind him and smacking Jack, then Bobby on the backs of their heads. “Both of you, stop being dicks.”
“Do--”
“No, Robert. I don’t want to see it.”
“Why are you being so salty?” he asks, slapping her on the butt then jumping away when she tries to hit him. “Careful baby, it’s fight day. Don’t tire yourself out yet.”
“Are you trying to annoy me?”
My attention is drawn away from the bickering couple as Jim and Iz enter the kitchen. Jim is carrying Bean against his chest, she’s looking sweet in a giant hair bow and a cute top with frilly bottom tights.
Then Aiden walks in behind them, stopping at the entrance and staring at me hard.
He hates me.
Maybe we should go.
“Is everyone ready for the fight?” Izzy asks, oblivious to the undercurrents in the room as she tak
es Bean from Jim’s arms and takes a seat at the dining table.
“Jack,” Aiden snaps brusquely, ignoring Izzy’s question. “Watch Smalls. You--” He grabs my arm, startling me and I have to work not to flinch away from his rough hands. I know he’s not like Sean. This is different, I know that, but I’ve been conditioned to react, and when I do, he loosens his hands, his eyes pained. Still holding me, but gentler, he leads us outside.
I expect him to stop on the porch, expecting him to say something mean and ask us to leave, but he doesn’t. Instead he drags me straight into the yard, into the street, and because my brain is still stuck on stupid, I don’t even realize where he’s taking me until he has us across the road and striding across his lawn. Stepping onto his own porch, he opens the door, swinging it wide, and leading me through.
I look over my shoulder briefly, catching a glimpse of everyone huddled in Bobby and Kit’s front window, faces practically pressed to the glass, stupid grins spread across their faces before Aiden shuts the door and closes us in.
“Um--”
“Hey,” he says simply, quickly, softly, turning and stepping back into my space. He doesn’t crowd me, not so that I feel trapped, but he’s close, demanding my undivided attention. “You’re forehead looks a bit angry, Peaches. You need Tylenol or something?”
“No…” My eyes narrow. “I’m okay…”
“Sleep well?”
“Um… yes?”
I’m an idiot.
“You’re not sure?” he asks with a tiny grin, forcing me to wonder if smiling genuinely hurts him. He just gives these tiny little smiles, teases, as though there’s a fish hook holding those lips flat and he refuses to test the boundaries.
His hand comes up slowly, deliberately, communicating his intent, and he takes some of my hair as it lies loosely over my shoulder. He fingers the locks, folding it across his knuckles, studying it closely.
“Pretty…” he murmurs, not even speaking to me. Just… speaking.
Surprising me and sending sparks shooting straight down through my body, he brings his hand up to his nose, dragging the strands across his lips, inhaling.
He’s sniffing me.
He’s smelling my hair.
Oh.
My.
God.
He nods softly, as though he just proved a vital point, then his eyes meet mine again. The gray darkened, almost sparkling, fluid, like flowing steel. “Pretty.”
“Um--”
“So when are you free?”
“Hmm?”
“For our date.”
“Our date?”
“Yeah,” he says softly, rewarding me with another of those small grins. “Princess Peach promised me a date last night.”
“That was before,” I tell him, confused by his turnaround.
“Before what?”
“Before I told you all that stuff.”
“Yeah, but you told me because you said I had to know. You said...” His eyes turn to slits. “I didn’t make you tell me.”
“No, I know. You didn’t force me. But now you know…”
“Know what?”
“That I was a Frankston--”
“But you weren’t. You said--”
“No, I wasn’t, technically, but now you still know where I come from. The people. The… bad stuff.”
“That doesn’t stop me from wanting to date you.”
“But--”
“You weren’t a bad person, Peaches. You were young and naïve and made bad decisions. Then you got out.”
“But I lived on money that-- He wasn’t a good person-- He hurt people-- He killed people!”
“But you didn’t know.”
“But--”
“Are you trying to brush me off?” He steps back, bending his neck so his eyes meet mine on the same level. “Is this you trying to get out of it? You don’t like me?”
“No, it’s not-- You don’t like me.”
“Says who?”
“Says me.”
“Well,” he smiles again, bigger than last time, as though he knows how they affect me. “I guess it’s a good thing I’m here to set you straight. I do like you, Peaches. I whole lot.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes,” he chuckles. “Definitely sure. Do you like me?” he asks almost shyly, like he truly doesn’t know and I smile.
“Yes, I do.”
“Yeah? How much?”
“Like, do you want me to give you a number of red skittles, or the length from here to the moon or something?” I laugh softly at his crazy question, but he’s not offended, instead the side of his lip lifts higher and his neck bends further, bringing his nose beside mine.
Our breaths collide, mixing, then scorching down my throat when I inhale again.
He’s so close. His stubble tickles my chin, his eyelashes almost close enough to flutter against my cheek.
“Can I kiss you?” he whispers, genuinely asking permission, the tenderness in his words almost bringing me undone.
Do I want him to kiss me? “Yes--”
He closes the space between us, taking my mouth with his. I shiver at the contact, at his soft lips, plumper than they appear, persuasive despite his gentleness. His stubble brushes against me, soft but coarse at the same time. His tongue enters my mouth, soft but unwavering, unapologetic as though he thinks it’s his right to be there.
As soon as his tongue brushes mine, my knees goes weak, struggling to keep myself upright, but it doesn’t matter anyway because Aiden steps closer. Now he’s crowding me. He takes my hips in his hands, pressing me against the wall, holding my weight up. My feet are still on the ground, but I’m weightless.
He takes control of the kiss, angling his head and moving deeper. His left hand stays anchored to my hip but his right begins exploring, brushing down and over the swells of my ass then back up over my hip again, up toward my ribs slowly as though he’s counting each one.
My hands rest on his broad chest, the feeling so foreign to me since Sean wasn’t a large man. He wasn’t tiny, but he’s a fraction of the size of the Kincaid men.
My fingers begin their own explorations, finding the metal bumps beneath his shirt and my legs go weak again at the reminder.
He lets out a strangled grunt, the sound reverberating up through his throat then down into mine.
His hands grip tighter as I continue studying with my thumbs, and his hips press against mine, pinning me to the wall.
For the first time in a long, long time, I feel my panties slick, my body reacting in the most basic way. I want him, and I know he wants me.
I can feel him.
His hands skim the side of my breasts, his thumb flirting with the edge of my nipple before leaving again. He slides his hand into the back of my hair, grabbing it, pulling it perfectly on this side of hurting. His fingers massage my scalp for a moment before letting them slide down again, sliding back down over my ribs then both hands move to cup my ass.
He lets out another hungry grunt, kneading the swells, grabbing them, then suddenly lifting them.
With no warning my body is lifted, my legs instinctively wrapping around his hips as his hands continue their possession, his tongue still warring with mine, my arms wrapping around his neck and holding him close.
“Damn, Peaches,” he breathes, nibbling my lips, slowing us down before we get carried away… more. “You feel good, baby.”
“Mmmhmm.”
“You taste so good.”
“Mmm.”
“You trying to kill me?”
“Nuhuh.”
He chuckles then, even as his teeth nip my bottom lip. “I mean, I’m not surprised, Peaches. But I am fucking pleased.”
His mouth works its way across my jaw, into the curve of my neck, burying his face in my hair as he bites along my sensitized skin, pulling it softly between his teeth.
“So…”
“So what?” I squeeze my eyes shut when he does this thing to my neck that sends tingles
through my belly.
“So when are you available for our date?”
~*~
Knowing that Evie was still across the street, Aiden and I had to rush back soon after our moment alone.
Trying and failing nonchalance, we walk back into the kitchen to everyone, everyone, sitting at the table, sly grins and mischievous eyes staring us down.
They all know where we were. And their filthy minds can guess what we were doing.
Jimmy stares at me hard, his face pained by the looks of his grin, his teeth almost piercing his lip in restraint.
“Don’t.”
“I didn’t say a word.”
“But you’re thinking it. So, don’t.”
“Mommy,” Evie chirps in delighted oblivion. “I finished my cereal.”
“Yeah, Mommy,” Jack’s sneaky dimple digs deep. “She finished ages ago. You were gone awhile.”
“Jack--”
“I’m just saying,” Jack continues, uncaring that he’s almost worse than Jimmy now. “You offer to roll with me, but then you leave to roll with someone else.”
“Jack,” Aiden warns low. “I’ll roll with you if you like.”
“Nah, you’re not as pretty.”
“I’m not even joking, kid. We have time before Kit goes up. You need a bit more conditioning before next weekend. I can condition your leg so good, it’ll be broken.”
“Stop.” Kit stands from her seat at the table. She walks by Jack, tagging the back of his head with her elbow even as she laughs. “Leave them alone Jack, or you’ll be on babysitting duty.”
“I don’t mind,” Jack admits. “Mama has already dumped me, but my Evie bug won’t break my heart, will you honey?” He lifts her from the dining chair and sets her in his lap and I almost sigh.
She’s never had this.
Before… before we left, she just had me. Her father held her only when he wanted to hurt me. He never told her he loved her. He never soothed her when sick or sad. He had staff, but not family. None of them held her either, except when ordered by Sean to take her from me.
No one ever laid a soothing hand on her except me, but then we meet these people, these kind, generous, selfless, loving people, and within minutes, literally minutes of meeting them, she’s being held by them with loving, protective arms.
