Rewriting Yesterday

by Wright, Candice

  Ryan walks towards me with a twinkle in his eyes, making me nervous.

  “What—” I don’t get to finish my sentence because Ryan’s lips are on mine, firm and insistent, drugging my senses until I feel boneless.

  “I just want to say thanks,” the ass smirks at me.

  I pick up an orange from the bowl of fruit on the counter and lob it at his head. Of course, he catches it, the show off.

  “Yeah, I want to show my thanks, too,” Caleb tells me before his lips are on mine.

  By the time Jacob comes to find me I’ve been thanked by them all multiple times.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  SAM

  It has been a long couple of weeks, each of us so busy that at times we are only seeing each other when we are ready to crash. Conner has settled at the centre, and as much as I feel like a dick for thinking it, I’m grateful that he has Steve there with him. Conner has struggled just as much emotionally as he has physically, lashing out one minute and then retreating into himself after. However, with Steve there, kicking his ass, Conner has made a dramatic improvement. Of course, I think our girl putting him in his place might have helped, too. I chuckle to myself as I think back to a few weeks ago, when we introduced Frankie to Conner for the first time.

  Conner is sat talking to Steve when we enter but they both turn towards us when Ryan speaks.

  “Conner, I would like you to meet my girl, Frankie,” Ryan introduces her with pride in his voice as I make my way into the room behind them.

  I notice the way he watches her as she enters his room, oblivious to me taking in his reaction. His cool grey eyes pass over her in mild curiosity until Ryan mentions her name. Whipping his head in my direction, he mutters in a confused voice, “I thought you said Frankie was the name of Caleb’s girl.”

  I nod as though it’s the most natural thing in the world to have multiple partners. “Yeah, because she is.”

  Frankie turns to me and rolls her eyes before stepping forward to explain. I don’t give her a chance. I grab her hips and tug her back to me, twisting her so that I can give her a kiss that is just the wrong side of polite, given that we are not alone.

  “What the fuck?” I hear Conner shout a second before I pull away.

  “Hi, gorgeous," I tell her as if I’ve been away for a week instead of studiously following her around all day, perving on her delectable ass.

  “Hi,” she replies, an easy smile on her face.

  Turning back to Conner, I see his curiosity has turned to hostility.

  “Somebody want to explain to me why you are passing Caleb’s girl around like she is public property?”

  Conner does not look happy, although without receiving any kind of explanation from us, I can see why he would be confused. She opens her mouth to clear up the confusion when Caleb, who has impeccable timing, as per usual, strolls in and covers her lips again with his. Breaking apart, he snags her hand, linking their fingers together before turning to Conner.

  “Hey, Con, I see you’ve met our girl.”

  “Is this some kind of joke? How does that even work?”

  Ryan answers him before anyone else can. “Well, you see, when a boy and a girl love each other…”

  I walk forward and slap him on the side of the head before he can finish. The jackass.

  “It works because we love each other and because our lives are better with Frankie in them. Watch what you say to her, Conner, because I won’t let you treat her like crap,” I tell him. I get that he is confused, but nobody gets to say shit about Frankie.

  I’m standing just behind her now, so she reaches back with her free hand and tugs me to her side.

  “It’s cool, Sam. It’s a lot to take in, especially when it's sprung on you the way you guys just did to Conner.”

  I look back to Conner, who is still watching her, and decide to cut him some slack. For now. We all remain quiet as Frankie speaks.

  “I care for all three of them. I won’t ever pick between them. It’s either all of them or none, and before you imply that I just want my cake and to eat it, too, it was the boys' idea right from the start. I just followed their lead.”

  “Hmm… and I imagine money has nothing to do with it. I made a nice little sum myself whilst I was away. Are you still recruiting?” Conner touches his mangled legs before continuing. “But I probably don’t meet your requirements now that I’m broken, huh?”

  He sneers the last part at her, and if she didn’t have such a death grip on my hand I would have launched myself at him. Everyone starts bickering around me, but I don’t take my eyes off him. He’s my boy, but if he can’t accept this, then that’s tough. I’m not willing to give Frankie up for anyone. Frankie’s ear-piercing whistle has everyone shutting up and paying attention.

  “First off, you are not broken. Bruised and a little battered, sure, but you are not broken. Trust me, I know broken. You already know that there is no permanent damage, so suck it up, stop being a pussy, and do your physio. Secondly, I think three men is enough, don’t you? I wouldn’t want to deprive the rest of the female population of the chance of encountering your sparkling personality. Thirdly, you do know that I’m the richest person in this building, don’t you? I don’t need their money or yours. If you had been checking your bank account online, you would have noticed that I have been returning your payments to you and footing your bill, but please tell me more about what a gold digger I am.”

  “Caleb’s dad…”

  “Don’t go there,” Caleb interjects. “Trust me, you won’t like the response you get. Last time I had that conversation with her she punched me in the face. I think that’s when I fell in love with her.”

  Conner snaps his mouth shut and turns back to Frankie.

  “You punched him in the face?”

  “He was being an even bigger dick than you, and that’s saying something.”

  Conner blows out a big breath and almost crumples as his anger drains out of him.

  “You have to at least let me pay to stay.”

  “Nope. You can fight me, but you won’t win. You are important to my boys, which makes you important to me. Family doesn’t pay, end of. If Steve can deal with it, so can you.”

  “What the fuck does that mean?" Steve shouts at her, and I have to turn my head so he doesn’t see me laughing. “You have been returning my money, too, haven’t you, you little sneak?”

  She looks him dead in the eye. My girl's not messing around.

  “Family does not pay.”

  “Frankie...”

  “Would you charge me if the situation was reversed?”

  He sighs, and I know she has him.

  “Fine.” He mutters something else under his breath that sounds like 'stubborn ass' as he makes his way out of Conner’s room.

  Turning back to Conner, I’m about to ask if he has any more bitching to do when he starts speaking.

  “I like her,” he says, but I don’t know who he is talking to as I’m too busy watching Frankie, who has her head tipped back and her eyes closed as she counts quietly to ten. Ryan’s arm appears in front of me, snagging Frankie and pulling her towards him. He holds her tight, laughing, as she burrows into his chest.

  “She has this effect on men,” Ryan tells him. “Welcome to the club, and when I say welcome, I mean as a guest only. You have to be a member to actually play hide the sausage.”

  She elbows him sharply in the ribs, making him yelp in surprise. Knowing exactly what’s going to happen, she looks at me and smirks before taking a step back. He looks up at her, not noticing the look I’m giving him.

  “What?” Frankie’s laughter can be heard as she heads out the door just before Caleb and I lunge for him. I swear to God Ryan must have the mental age of a thirteen-year-old boy.

  In true Frankie style, she managed to win Conner over. We have even had him round for dinner, but with our heavy schedules we are due for a catch up. Jacob is due to start back at school again soon, so he and Frankie have been spl
itting their time between here and the women’s shelter in Devon, making sure it’s ready to hand over to the team that Frankie has employed to start next week.

  Caleb, Ryan and I have been at a loose end since leaving the army, so we decided to open our own security firm. After what Frankie and Jacob went through, and after hearing some of the harrowing stories from the women at the shelter, we decided our primary focus would be protection. Now we are putting together a team of people to work for us, each specializing in different areas. We already have a dozen contacts, but it was Caleb’s brilliant idea to tap into the wide range of abilities available to us through the soldier centre and utilise them.

  We now have a tech genius as part of our team. Peter, a double amputee, pointed out that he uses his fingers to type, not his feet. We found a building close by to lease, and since then everything has been moving along at breakneck speed. Caleb and Ryan are doing a final round of interviews today, but I get to take a much-needed break. I’m going to pick up some lunch and swing by to spend the afternoon with Frankie and Jacob. They finally made it back home late last night, and after a group text to say they arrived back safely, I let Frankie know I would come visit today as I’m itching to see her.

  Deciding on sandwiches, I head to the local bakery and pick up some ready-made ones and cakes and head over to Frankie’s place. Balancing the bags of food and the box of cakes in one hand, I knock on the door with all the excitement of an eight-year-old boy. I can’t help it. This girl has embedded herself under my skin, and I’m going to soak up every single second of it.

  When nobody answers, I knock again, louder, figuring that they must have popped out, but it’s not like Frankie to forget to let one of us know where she is.

  Trying the door, I find it locked, so put the food down on the step and pull out my phone to call her. It rings and rings, but she isn’t picking up. It’s as I pull the phone away from my ear to hang up that I realise that I can hear it ringing in the house. I don’t stop to think that I might be overreacting. Frankie never goes anywhere without her phone in case there is an emergency.

  I kick the door hard, once, twice, three times before it splinters. Using my shoulder, I force myself the rest of the way inside, shutting down my emotions and steeling myself against what I might find. Heading through the kitchen into the living room and dining room, I give up any pretences of being quiet as even the neighbours would have heard me kicking the door in.

  The downstairs is empty, Jacob's room and Frankie’s room the same. I’m about to head back down the stairs when I hear a strange banging sound coming from the family bathroom. Every bit of training I’ve had goes out the window because I’m worried about my girl. I burst through the door and take a second to appreciate the fact that I didn’t get my face blown off like a rookie. It takes a little longer to realise that the knocking sound is coming from Jacob, who is kicking the side of the bath with as much force as he can. Unfortunately, it’s not much, which is why it took me so long to hear it, because his arms and legs are bound behind his back and his mouth is covered in tape.

  The look in his eyes breaks my heart. Fear, relief, guilt and anger all fight for supremacy. Lifting him out carefully, I remove the tape from his mouth as gently as I can, knowing it is going to hurt anyway.

  “Where’s Frankie, Jacob?”

  “Her mum was here. She knocked on the door and I opened it, thinking you were early. She had a gun, and she told Frankie that if she went with her quietly she would leave me here safe and uninjured, and Frankie agreed. I tried to stop her, but she wouldn’t listen. Her mother made me get in the tub and then had Frankie tape me up. She was crying the whole time, telling me she was sorry and that she loved me, then she left with her. It’s my fault, Sam. I let her in. I should have checked, and now Frankie is gone and it’s my fucking fault.”

  By the time he finishes he is a sobbing wreck. I grab his head in both my hands and place my forehead against his. He doesn’t even flinch. He's so lost in his guilt and pain that he has forgotten about his aversion to being touched.

  “It’s not your fault, Jacob, you hear me? Not your fault. We will get her back, I swear it to you.” He looks up at me, hopeful and trusting, as I make my vow.

  “On my life, Jacob, I swear to you we will bring her home. I’m going to run downstairs and grab a knife to cut you free and call Caleb and Ryan, who will call the police. Just hang on for me for a little while. I’m coming back, I promise.”

  He offers me a small nod and I leave him to sprint down the stairs, speed-dialling Caleb. I get no answer. Fuck. I should have known better that to expect him to pick it up during an interview. Ryan will, though, so I hit speed-dial again for him instead, and thank fuck, he picks it up after two rings.

  “Kind of busy, slacker. Not all of us get to skive off and have lunch with our girl.”

  “Put me on speaker, now.”

  “We are in the middle of an interview, man. What the fuck?”

  “It’s Frankie.” I don’t say anything else. Nothing else is needed.

  “Shit, hold on. Okay, you have us both. What’s going on?”

  “Frankie’s piece of shit mother has her. She made her tie Jacob up and then took her. How the fuck did she even get out of jail?”

  Caleb is the one who answers, and I can feel his anger coming through the phone in waves.

  “I don’t know, but I’m sure as fuck going to find out. Take care of Jacob. We are on our way.”

  He hangs up on me, so I run back up the stairs to cut Jacob free. When I finally manage to get all the tape off he collapses to the floor. I drag him to my side, throwing my arm around his shoulder, marvelling at the trust he has for me. Pulling him tight against me as we sit in the bathroom with our backs against the wall, we wait, and that’s where Caleb and Ryan find us fifteen minutes later with news that Frankie’s mother was released on bail early that morning. Everyone is out looking for her, even the interviewees, but as it stands now we are flying blind, with no idea where to look.

  I send up a silent prayer for Frankie to hold on. I made a promise to Jacob that we would bring Frankie home, and I intend to keep it.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  FRANKIE

  “Wakey-wakey, sleepy head.”

  That voice accompanied by something cold and hard being dragged down the side of my face has me jerking awake. I’m getting really sick and tired of being knocked out and waking up to find myself kidnapped again, although I suppose this time is different, as I aided and abetted in my own kidnapping. Stabbing me in the neck with a needle and knocking me out when I’m already in the getaway car was a little overkill by that point.

  My life is starting to resemble some cheesy B-rated romance in which the heroine is kidnapped over and over, and she waits for the hero to save her. Well, fuck this shit. I’ve got three heroes that are more than likely scouring the corners of the earth to save me, but they are going to have to get in line, because I’m quite capable of saving myself.

  My mouth feels like sandpaper, and my brain feels fuzzy thanks to whatever crap she dosed me with, but at least this time I don’t have to worry about a head injury. I push the worry over what she gave me away, as there is nothing I can do about it, and focus on my surroundings.

  This time I find that instead of a bed I’m tied to a chair in a dusty room that looks like it hasn’t been used in decades. Peeling wallpaper in a shade of sun-faded pink that peeks through posters of dated bands from another era and a flowery bedspread show that this room used to belong to a teen girl who had once filled this space with hopes and dreams beyond the dust and mildew that now adorns it.

  Sitting on the bed in front of me is my mother, and in her hand is a gun that is pointed at me. Another God damn gun. I literally could not make this shit up if I tried. Biting back the hysterical laugh that I can feel trying to escape, because I know it will set her off, I just stare at her and wait. Patience was never one of her strong points, so I know she will break the silence befor
e I do. I just don’t understand what the hell she thinks this stunt is going to achieve.

  “You had to go and fuck everything up, didn’t you? Perfect little Frankie. But we both know what a little slut you really are.”

  I let her poisonous words go over my head. At one point in my life I would have absorbed them, letting them infect my heart and fester within me until the humiliation and shame became unbearable, but not anymore. Thanks to Joe, and then all the people who came into my life since, I have realised my worth. I am not who she tried to make me believe I was. As my mother, she should have shielded me from harm, but instead she threw me to the wolves. It was more than that, she revelled in it, thriving on the power she obtained by watching me suffer.

  In many ways it makes her worse than Robert, because at least he knew he was evil and didn’t try to hide it. My mother, however, has two faces—the evil bitch and the despairing parent. It was my mother’s heartbroken pleas followed by her lies and manipulations that had me being returned home time and time again. Joe told me he had paid her off, but at the time I desperately wanted to believe that it was her way of setting me free. Oh, how naïve I had been. It was all about the money, just like always. I’m just ashamed to admit to myself that it took her hurting Steve for me to realise the extent of her hatred for me.

  She watches me, clearly agitated that I’m ignoring her, but that’s tough shit. I will never give her the satisfaction of knowing anything other than my anger and discontent. When she decides to speak I cut her off, knowing she hates being interrupted even more than she hates being ignored.

  “Kidnapping, mother? Really? Why don’t you ask Robert how well that worked out for him? Oh, that’s right, you can’t, can you? Because I killed the motherfucker.”

  “Watch your language, young lady!” she screams at me.

  Is she serious? Great. She and Robert were as crazy as each other. She just hid hers better. It looks like her mask is slipping now, though.