I yank my hair again. It must be sticking up all over the place, and I don't even care.
“Shit. Fuck. What do we do now?” I whimper.
Ryan looks at me, likely trying to gauge if I’m asking that seriously.
“We apologise. If she is as smart as we think she is, she will tell us to fuck off, because that’s what we deserve. Then we spend every day for however long it takes showing her we are sorry. Sorry is just a word thrown around too often, so we are going to have to prove it. It doesn’t mean dick if our actions say something else. We pray that one day she forgives us, but I’ve got to be honest, I’m not sure I would be able to if the tables were turned.”
I nod in agreement. What else can we do?
“I wish I had never laid eyes on that spiteful, vindictive woman. How could she do this to her daughter?” I say in frustration, watching Sam flinch out of the corner of my eye. “Not your fault, Sam. I was the one who asked you to find out everything you could. I was the one who agreed to go with you, and it was me who arranged for them to show up here. Frankie is in pieces because of me, and all because I only saw what I wanted to see.”
We are all silent for a moment, contemplating the huge task ahead of us.
I stand up. I just can’t sit here and do nothing anymore.
“Let’s go back to mine and come up with a game plan. I don’t know about you but I’m not about to be auctioned off to anybody except Frankie.”
I head for the door and pull it open, nearly colliding with Jan on the way out. She stares at me with a look that’s a mix of sadness and pity. I don’t know which is worse.
“I’m sorry,” I tell her. It seems like I’ve spent the whole night apologising.
“Not yet, you’re not, but you will be.” I try to interrupt her, but she carries on as if I never spoke. “If you give up now, you will be sorry for the rest of your life. You messed up.” She looks past me to Sam and Ryan, who are at my back. “You all did. But if you quit now, then you are not the men I thought you were. That girl is one in a million. She just doesn’t realise it yet. You guys are soldiers. Do what you do best. Fight. Fight for her. Show her she is worth it.”
I lean forward and place a soft kiss on her cheek and head for the exit, too choked up to speak.
* * *
We've been back an hour and not one of us has spoken. So much for coming up with a game plan. There is a loud banging at the door, which has Sam running to open it and Ryan and I following. He swings the door open and his shoulders drop. I’m guessing from his disappointment that he had hoped it was Frankie, but it's Malcolm instead.
“How is she?” Sam asks him.
“Asleep now, after crying herself out.”
Sam is squeezing his hands into fists so tight that his skin is turning white.
“Here,” he hands Sam what looks to be a memory stick. “Frankie’s medical records. You know, the ones that miraculously disappeared. Well, Joe had a guy track them down before he destroyed them. This is the only copy left… as far as we know, anyway. Accident reports, photos, you name it, it’s on there… but boys, I’m warning you now, it’s not easy viewing.”
He opens the door and walks through, but turns back to face us before he goes.
“I’m heading back there now. Steve and I are staying. Both Frankie and Jacob suffer from nightmares, and I imagine tonight’s events will be a trigger for them."
“Shit, Mal, I’m sorry. None of this was my intention. I just didn’t understand what Frankie and my father could possibly have seen in each other.”
“Yeah, and now you may never know. It's Frankie’s choice to make, with regards to having anything to do with you guys again, but in my opinion she’s too good for you, for any of you.”
And with that he closes the door behind him, leaving us with the memory stick in Sam’s hand. We all stare at it like it’s going to explode, knowing it’s going to provide us with a lot of the answers we’ve been looking for, but we also know that whatever is on it is going to change our lives forever. Some things can never be unseen.
Chapter Fifteen
FRANKIE
The wind blows across the lake, whipping my hair into a frenzy before it calms again. It’s almost like the storm of emotions I’m feeling inside is manifesting out into the world around me. Any minute now I expect to see dark clouds rolling in to match my mood, and lightning strikes to purge my anger.
Almost six years of freedom destroyed in the blink of an eye… and for what? Nothing is going to bring Joe back, and all the progress I have made in letting him go disintegrated the night his son and friends ripped my safe home apart. The loneliness is overwhelming, threatening to consume me, but being around anyone means that I have to pretend that I’m okay when I’m anything but, and I’m so exhausted from trying to convince people that I am.
I look up at the sky feeling lost and small, like I used to before Joe came along. I promised myself if I ever managed to escape their clutches I would run so they could never find me again, but now, thanks to the boys, I’m right back on their radar, and they haven’t wasted any time trying to get to me.
The first phone call came a week ago, just two days after that fateful evening. I knew it wouldn’t take them long to track me down now that they knew what area I lived in. Not recognising the number, I answered, but as soon as I heard her voice I realised my mistake. Shocking surprise, she wants money and assumes she is entitled to it because she gave birth to me. I hung up, but the same number rang three days ago again. I ignored it but I’m only delaying the inevitable. She will turn up… or worse, he will.
After weighing my options, I spoke to Jacob, and we have decided to relocate for a little while. I have secured a building down in Devon that I want to set up as a women’s shelter. Originally, I was going to hire a team of people and do it remotely, but with the summer break coming up, Jacob and I have decided to head down and start the project ourselves.
Jacob, who has been my rock through all of this, has decided that if we need to stay longer, then we can hire a tutor or enrol him in school down there. I was worried, because he has just made the track team, but he just smiled and said that’s the best thing about running—it’s a solitary sport and he can do it anywhere. Best kid ever.
Jan was on board and has set us up with a social worker to help Jacob settle in, and Steve is helping us move. Malcolm has rented us a property right by the sea, which we are excited about, and he is going to keep an eye on things from this end whilst Steve runs the soldier centre. Everybody has been sworn to secrecy, but it wasn’t necessary—I trusted them all implicitly.
It is an unspoken rule that Sam, Caleb and Ryan are not spoken about around me, because it still hurts too much. I haven't heard from them since the night of the auction, and as far as I am concerned they don't need to know where I am going. It is their fault my hand has been forced in the first place.
Sitting here in this moment, I try to clear the chaos swirling in my mind and find a measure of peace, anything to soothe the jagged pieces of my heart. As the wind picks up again, I force myself to accept the inevitable, that my life here, at least for now, is over. It doesn’t change the fact that I’m going to miss this place, the bittersweet memories of Joe and myself. Our happy moments and our dark days are all tied to this house.
That part of me is terrified to leave the only real home I’ve ever known. Maybe a change of scenery will help. Even I can admit that, as much as I’ve tried to move on, some days the grief is as fresh as the first day without him, especially living in the house where he died. How do you truly get over losing your best friend, the person that literally saved your life?
I swipe my cheeks, feeling the wetness there, and realise I hadn’t even noticed I was crying again. Who doesn’t notice their crying, for goodness' sake? God, I’m such a mess.
I wipe my face and square my shoulders. It’s time to pull on my big-girl pants. I brace myself to stand as the wind pushes against me and find myself wobbling a li
ttle. A hand on my shoulder steadies me, causing me to whip my head round in fear, and I lose my footing in the process and stumble back before landing with a thud on my behind. The terror recedes when I realise that it’s not Robert, but I’m far from comfortable to find my boys at my back. I start laughing. My boys. God, that’s hilarious. It doesn’t take long for the laughter to turn into gut-wrenching sobs as their remembered betrayal seeps into the cracks of my heart.
They drop to their knees and surround me, but I can’t see them anymore through my tears. I can feel them, though, and smell them, and I so badly want to reach out and touch them… but it’s too much, and it’s too late. I scramble backwards, doing a strange crab walk, wondering if I look as crazed as I feel.
“No, stay back!” I shout, struggling to replace the metaphorical bricks in the wall around my heart. “Don’t touch me.”
It comes out in a whisper, sounding painful and raw, but I know they heard me and somehow my quiet words affect them more than when I shouted. I look up at them and wish I hadn’t, as their matching looks of devastation feel like a punch to my stomach. The wind is howling, mimicking my turbulent feelings, as if it senses my agitation. I’m trying to ignore the onslaught of emotions battering at me from them and from within, but it’s just too hard. I notice a tear run down the side of Sam’s face, my beautiful stoic Sam, and it’s the straw that breaks the camel’s back. I stand and run, one hand holding my stomach, trying to stop my insides from falling out… or at least that’s how it feels. I make it to the door, run inside and spin to lock it. All three of them are still where I left them. I know they could have caught me in a heartbeat if they wanted to, but they let me go. I don’t know if that is what I want or not, so I do the only thing I can do. I close the blind and let them go, too.
After standing in a hot shower for much longer than necessary, letting the scalding water wash away my tears and anger, I dress in comfy grey leggings and an oversized off the shoulder lemon jumper. I braid my hair and pull it over one shoulder and call it good, all without looking in the mirror. Sometimes the hardest demon to face can be yourself.
I head towards the kitchen but pause on the stairs when I hear voices. I can’t make out what they are saying but I recognise the fact that none of them belongs to the boys. As I enter the kitchen the voices stop, and I find myself the focal point of Jacob and Mal. Jacob offers me a small smile but Malcolm studies me a little longer and asks me with a look if I’m okay, so I offer him a small nod and grab a seat at the breakfast bar.
“I have to pop into the office later. I’ve got some work I need to pass on to some associates of mine.”
“God, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be taking up all of your time. Jacob and I will be fine by ourselves. I’m just going to finish packing up a few bits and order a takeaway for later.”
“Nonsense. I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. Besides, your argument is irrelevant, as my passing this case over has nothing to do with you. A former client of mine has passed, and I’m having trouble trying to locate his next of kin. A couple of guys in the office specialize in finding and tracking down people so I’m going to hand it to them. I’m getting old, Frankie.” He offers me a rueful smile. “I have neither the time nor the inclination to be on the road, traveling all over the place.”
He places a sandwich down in front of me and gives me a stern look letting me know that I won’t get away with not eating it. I’m hit with a wave of melancholy as an eerie sense of déjà vu washes over me. Sitting at the breakfast bar in another time and place, being given a plate of food by a guy old enough to be my father who would do anything to protect me. It’s like that first morning with Joe all over again.
“I love you, Mal. Thanks for taking care of me. I don’t know what I would do without you.”
Mal leans across the counter and gives my hand a squeeze.
“Always, my sweet girl, and it’s no hardship. You are easy to love.”
The smile falls from my face, because we both know that’s not always true. He squeezes my hand again and then lets it go so that I can eat. Jacob slides a bottle of water in front of me before taking the seat next to mine. We sit and eat in easy silence as Mal loads up the dishwasher before offering his goodbyes, and heads off to work with the promise of returning later. Now that we have finished eating, I look up at Jacob and find him watching me cautiously. I feel like utter crap knowing I helped to put those shadows back in his eyes.
“I’m sorry, Jacob, for freaking out and being so absent mentally. I’m done having a pity party now. Are you sure you are okay with everything? I feel guilty as hell turning your life upside down when you have only just begun to feel settled. I just want to keep us safe.”
He stares at me for a second with eyes so deep and full of emotion that I have to swallow down the lump in my throat.
“My mum was so scared of my dad, and she had every right to be, obviously, but she never tried to get help for us even when the police were called. She took him back time and time again. She never tried to protect me. Sometimes I felt like she was grateful when he focused his attention on me because then it wasn’t focused on her. I loved her, she was my mum, but I don’t know if she ever really loved me. She lived in her own little world for so long that I don’t know if she even noticed me most of the time.”
I shift my seat closer and lay my head upon his shoulder, offering him my silent support.
“You though, Frankie, have shown me nothing but love right from the start. You support me without putting pressure on me, and you don’t make me feel bad for the nightmares or the anxiety I still feel around people. You just give me a safe place to be me, you always have my back, and you'd take on the world to protect me. I know this because I feel it when I’m around you. It’s in everything you say and in everything you do. I’m so glad you saw something in me that nobody else did.”
He tilts his head down and kisses my temple in a gesture that defies his fifteen years.
“I would go anywhere with you, Frankie. You are my home.”
Damn, this kid undoes me. I sit up straight, placing my hands on each side of his face, and look him square in the eye. I don’t want him looking away for this. I want him to hear the truth in my words.
“I feel so honoured to have met you, and completely blessed that I get to keep you.”
I watch him swallow, battling his emotions, trying to show me that he is strong when I already know how strong he is.
“So, how’s the packing going?”
He offers me a small smile, recognising the out I just gave him.
“I’m mostly done. With the new place being furnished, I’m just taking my clothes, toiletries and some books. What about you? Is there anything left that you need help with?”
“No, but thanks. I’m done, too. What do you want to do about your birthday?” I ask, feeling guilty that the activity centre is out, and yet strangely relieved that I won’t have to go somewhere that is bound to bombard me with memories of the guys. I’m not ready for that yet.
“I’ve been thinking about that, and I thought maybe we could spend it at the beach. I know we are going to be living right on it, but I’ve never seen the ocean before and I like the idea of just spending a lazy day swimming and reading and maybe having a barbecue in the evening?” He poses the last part as a question, almost like I would refuse him. I have no idea why, because it sounds like a little slice of heaven to me.
“That sounds perfect. Anything else you want or need?”
He slides off the barstool and turns to look at me.
“I have everything I’ve ever wanted.”
He takes his plate and mine over to the dishwasher and pops them inside before heading to the living room completely unaware of the gift he gave me with those six words.
Chapter Sixteen
SAM
Jogging up the steps outside Frankie’s door, I raise my hand to knock but step back in surprise when it opens before I can. But it's not Frankie. It's Malcolm. Spotti
ng me, he does a double-take before pulling the door closed behind himself and locking it.
“She’s not here," he reluctantly tells me. Clearly, I’m not one of his favourite people, but it’s nothing that I don’t deserve.
“When will she be back?”
“No idea. She and Jacob have relocated at least for the summer, but maybe more. I’m just here to collect the mail.”
He steps past me, obviously done with this conversation and not bothered in the slightest that the information he just imparted on me has left me reeling.
“Where did she go?” I call after him, unsure if he will answer or not. He stops when he gets to his car.
“If she wanted you to know, she would have told you.” He sighs before opening the passenger door and throwing the letters onto the seat. “She isn’t ready yet, so you are going to have to wait. I’m sure you're sorry. I bet you all are. But as I’m sure you are aware, sorry doesn’t just magically fix everything.”
“We don’t want her to leave,” I shout, knowing that my frustration and even panic are evident in my voice.
“It’s not about what you want. It’s about what she needs, and thanks to the beast that you guys unleashed, what she needs is to feel safe… and unfortunately, that’s not possible here.”
“Jesus, we would never hurt her.”
His pointed look says we already have.
“I’m sure after what you witnessed the last thing you would ever do is hurt Frankie, but I was talking about being safe from her mother and stepfather.”
I freeze. I can feel the rage burning, swirling and growing inside me, trying to smash through my defences and find a way out. I’m hanging on by a thread, but I need to know what the fuck he means. Frankie is an adult now, with unlimited resources to take care of herself, but that’s when I get it. Money. It’s always about fucking money.
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