Sela was a good woman. Benny liked her. And Man came to work with a content look on his face that said he liked what he left at home. So Ben knew he liked his time at home, especially if a man was getting what Man obviously was getting…and liking, the mornings.
Sal would come in the morning. So would Gina. Sal’s boys knew better than to show at Benny’s door, morning or anytime. But the big man and his wife would do whatever the fuck they wanted.
For Frankie, he’d have to eat that shit and he would. Once. Then he’d have words with her, and if she intended to keep Sal and his wife in her life, she’d do that well away from him.
But Ben found halfway down the hall to the door that he wouldn’t be eating that particular shit that morning.
He’d be eating other shit.
He knew this when a vaguely familiar female voice shouted from outside the door, “Yeah! Fuck you too! And kiss all this good-bye forever, asshole!”
He wasn’t sure—he hadn’t been around the woman in years—but he was thinking that was Nat, Frankie’s sister.
Closing in on the door and seeing her head through the window, he saw he was right.
Fuck.
Frankie did not need this shit. More, he didn’t need it. She was not his favorite person normally. Having to keep his shit together after her sister spent a week and a half in a hospital bed and the bitch did not even send flowers was not something he had the patience to do maybe ever, but definitely not then.
He opened the door, positioned himself firmly in it, and got an eyeful of her jumping up and down, giving the finger to a beat-up Dodge Stratus racing down the street.
He also got an eyeful of her short, tight, black knit skirt, which was a centimeter away from giving a crotch shot, and skintight tank with material so thin, he could easily see the lace of her bra. With this, for some fucked reason, she was wearing a lightweight but bulky scarf wrapped around her neck. Silver and gold was profuse at ears, fingers, and wrists. She smelled like she’d just walked through one of those bitches at the mall who offered sprays of perfume and choked the air with it for reasons he never got. And he only had her profile, but he could see she’d taken Ninette’s heavy-handed makeup lessons to extremes.
Even way back when, when he was at school with the Concettis, it was like Frankie was not one of them. She knew how to trick herself out, absolutely. But the sisters dressed like whores from age twelve up and Frankie never did that shit.
She could do big hair, she did, and she did it well, as evidenced yesterday. She could show skin, but she did it with style and class that made it appealing, not cheap. And she liked her makeup, but as heavy as she could go with it, it never crossed that line from class to trash.
Ninette led that brigade, teaching her daughters lessons no girl should learn. Frankie was the only one opposed to them. The other two sucked that shit in and turned that shit out, not only in look, but in deed.
He’d never liked them, Nat or Cat, and not because they dressed like trash. Because they acted like it.
The brothers were a different story. He’d briefly met her brother Dino, and he knew Enzo Junior well.
Dino seemed an upright guy, affectionate with his little sister, pleasant to be around.
Enzo was a fucking crazy man, but he adored Frankie and didn’t have much time for the other two, so Benny had always liked him.
Now, with her showing out of the blue, he knew he’d be reminded why he wasn’t Nat’s biggest fan.
He just did not know she was bringing her A game.
When the Stratus screeched around the corner at the end of the block, she turned to him. Just like he wasn’t even fucking there, she picked up one of the three massive duffels sitting on his stoop and heaved it right by his legs into his foyer.
Oh no.
Fuck no.
“Yo!” he barked, and her eyes snapped to his.
“Hey, Ben,” she greeted. Either not processing or ignoring his tone, she twisted and snatched up another duffel, dropping the strap on her shoulder and then shouldering her way right into his goddamned house.
She had to be joking.
“Get the last one, would you, big man?” she ordered, then stopped in the foyer and shouted up the stairs, “Frankie!”
She was. She was absolutely joking.
He turned to her, leaving her bag outside and the door open, and bit out, “Have you lost your mind?”
She drooped a shoulder, the duffel thudded on the floor, and she looked to him. “Heard Frankie was crashing here. Just scraped off my douchebag of a husband so I need to crash at her place.” She finished this outrageousness with even more outrageousness, “I could use a ride when I get her keys.”
“You’ve lost your mind,” he whispered, and he whispered because, if he didn’t, he’d shout.
“Say what?” she asked.
When she asked that, he knew she wasn’t ignoring what she couldn’t possibly miss: that Benny did not want her or her shit in his home. No, she was in her own world and she didn’t give a shit he didn’t want to occupy that world. And he sure as fuck didn’t want it landing in his foyer.
So he decided to give her that information.
“You are not here,” he told her, then explained, “And by that I mean, get your ass out.”
Her eyes narrowed and it was not sexy-cute and full of attitude the way her big sister did it, mainly because he’d never liked the bitch. She was rough in a way there was no smooth. She was loud, she was obnoxious, and with this shit, she’d proved she could take selfish to extremes.
“You don’t wanna give me a ride, that’s cool, but keep your pants on, asshole. I just need Frankie’s keys,” she snapped.
Benny felt his body get tight, which was good. That meant it’d make it hard to move.
He didn’t have the same problem with his mouth. “You’re tellin’ me you shouldered your way in my home, I haven’t seen you in fuckin’ years, and you’re callin’ me an asshole?”
“You just told me to get out,” she shot back.
“It’s my house. I can do that shit when someone who isn’t welcome is in it,” he returned.
He knew Theresa and Vinnie Senior were in the back hall.
Unfortunately, on his words, Francesca entered the space by walking slowly down the stairs.
Further to that misfortune, she was wearing a light pink baby-doll tee that was tight at her tits and a light gray pair of those loose but clingy drawstring yoga pants women wore that showed no skin but gave it all away in a way every man liked if his dick worked and he wasn’t into guys.
So no turtleneck or sweatshirt.
Fuck.
Her eyes were on her sister and her mouth was moving to ask, “What’s goin’ on?”
Nat looked up at her sister, and before Ben could say a word, she announced, “Just got shot of the douche, soon to be formerly known as my husband. Need a place to crash. Heard you were here, which means your place is empty, so I’m gonna crash there. I need your keys, and quick, ’cause Benny’s decided to be a dick and I’ve had a bad morning. I don’t need that shit.”
Benny was pissed. Absolutely.
But he instantly had another problem on his hands.
This was that he knew, with the way Frankie’s face changed, his house was about to turn into a Concetti war zone. He’d seen it, more than once, but had been removed from it. Vinnie had to put up with that shit and that was one thing in all that was Frankie that he did not envy his brother.
But now, the woman on his stairs was not one hundred percent and she had no business throwing down with her sister. Not the way the Concetti women threw down.
Therefore, he made a move to the stairs just as Frankie replied, “First, you think of askin’ to crash at my place?”
To this, Nat retorted, “I don’t need hassle from you either.”
Frankie made her way down the rest of the stairs and stopped on the last step where Benny was standing at the bottom, barring her from going further, thin
king distance was key in this scenario.
She ignored her sister and kept with her list. “Second, you come to Ben’s and call him a dick right to his face, right in his damned house?”
“Think I called him a dick to you, not to his face,” Nat fired back. “He just happened to be standin’ there.”
Frankie ignored that too.
“Third, you show at Ben’s house, layin’ your shit at my feet and his door, when I can’t take a fucking shower by myself, doctor’s orders, ’cause I got a hole in me?”
Her voice was getting louder, so Benny murmured a soothing “Frankie” that he knew no way in hell would soothe her.
“Babe—” Nat started, a change coming over her face. What Frankie said, by some miracle, got in there.
But for Frankie, it was too little, too late. “No. Fuck no,” Frankie hissed. “Get your shit and get gone.”
“Got no place to go, sis. Need you to help me out,” Nat told her.
“Why?” Frankie returned immediately. “’Cause you screwed around on Davey again, he found out again, and I’m up on the rotation when he kicked your ass out and you need somewhere to wait it out until he loses his mind and takes your cheatin’ ass back?”
Nat’s face, which had gone soft with guilt at Frankie’s earlier comment, went hard in a shot. “I’m not discussin’ my marital woes with you in front of the fuckin’ Bianchis and whoever that bitch is.” She jerked her chin toward the stairs.
Benny looked that way to see Asheeka three steps up. When he did, he also saw Asheeka didn’t take kindly to being called a bitch.
Fuck.
He had to wade in. Immediately. The Concettis were bad enough. He didn’t need the unknown Asheeka throwing her hat into the ring.
“This is what’s gonna happen,” Benny stated, eyes back to Nat. “I’m gonna call a cab and give you some cake so you can put yourself up in a hotel for a coupla days while you sort your shit.”
Frankie instantly fucked with his plan by declaring, “You absolutely are not doin’ any of that shit, Benny Bianchi. And you” —he saw her finger jab out toward her sister in his peripheral vision— “do not ever call one of my sisters of the heart a bitch.”
He cut his eyes to her face. “Babe, just let me deal with this quick so we can get you some breakfast.”
“And there it is. Rumor is flyin’ and here’s the proof,” Nat put in with a full-on bitch voice that Benny should have reacted to quicker and would not know until later that he would pay the price in a variety of painful ways when he didn’t. “Francesca Concetti, always wantin’ an in on that pizzeria and the cash it makes, has grasped onto another Bianchi cock to get it. Hat’s off to you, babe. Never thought after you killed the first, you’d get a shot at the next.”
Ben stood stone-still, afraid to move, because he knew precisely what he’d do if he did. He stayed motionless as he felt the emotion beating down from Frankie and he fought back the urge to do violence against a female.
His father, with more years to learn control, moved.
He did this to walk into the foyer. He grabbed a duffel, took it to the door, and sent it flying. He put some heft behind his toss because it didn’t hit the top of the stoop; it hit the sidewalk.
“Hey! What the fuck! I got fragile shit in that!” Nat shouted.
Vinnie Senior didn’t hesitate. He did the same with the other one.
“What the fuck!” Nat screeched.
Done with the bags, Vinnie Senior stood, hand on the door, leveled his eyes on Natalia, and said one word: “Out.”
She was too stupid to take that one word, or read the look on his pop’s face that said the smart move was not to earn more. She straight-up prompted more with “Fuck you, old man.”
That was when Benny moved.
He only stopped when he felt his mother wrap her fingers around his forearm and she did this tight.
“One warning, Natalia,” Vinnie said low. “You go or I put you out, and I will be puttin’ my hand on you to put you out. You give me lip or problems when I put my hand on you, you’ll be makin’ a big mistake ’cause my son is holdin’ back and you do not wanna force him to let go. Now, you go and you do not come back to this house, and you have not one thing to do with your sister unless she reaches out to you. Are you hearin’ me?”
“Let me get this straight,” Nat started, crossing her arms on her chest. “The Bianchis pissed all over my sister for years, she gets shot savin’ one of your women you actually give a shit about, unlike Frankie, and you all see the error of your ways and crawl up her ass. Is that right?”
“Yeah, that’s right, Natalia,” Vinnie Senior replied. “And perhaps you should see this as a lesson in family: you mess up, you fess up. Make amends. And if you can do that bein’ there for someone you care about in her time of need, all the better. Somethin’ my son tells me you didn’t do, her lyin’ in a hospital bed for days without a visit from her sister.”
“Not that it’s any of your business, but I work nights so I gotta sleep days,” she returned.
“That is not an excuse and you stand there sayin’ those words knowin’ it,” Vinnie Senior replied.
Nat opened her mouth to speak, but Benny had gotten a lock on it.
That said, he was also done.
“Pop, get her out before I do it,” he warned.
Nat’s eyes shot to him just as Vinnie moved to her and he saw she was at least smart enough to read his look and know her time was up.
This was why she yelled, “Shit! Fuck! I got no place to go and no money to get there!”
“Not my problem,” Benny told her.
She looked to her sister. “Frankie, seriously—”
“I did not kill Vinnie.”
This was unexpected. It was also whispered. And it sounded tortured. Hearing it, everyone in that space went still except Ben, who looked to Francesca at the same time he moved up, crowding her on the step.
Her eyes stayed glued to her sister. “That you would say that to me, even think that about me…you’re dead to me.”
Fuck.
“Frankie, babe—” Nat started.
“Dead,” she whispered, turned, and rushed up the steps.
Benny cut his eyes to his father and ordered a growled, “Get her the fuck out, Pop. Now.”
Then he turned and took the steps two at a time, following Frankie.
He hit his bedroom to see Frankie pacing, face pale, visibly deep breathing. He was concerned about her state of mind, but he was downright worried when he saw she had her hand resting where her wound was.
Uncertain about getting physical when she was so clearly agitated, he called, “Baby, come here.”
Her eyes moved to him. She opened her mouth to say something but closed it before she got a word out.
He still caught the look in her eye and it was one he couldn’t read again. This one was bad.
“Francesca, come here,” he repeated.
“I need alone time,” she stated, her voice dead, her feet still moving her around the room in a twitchy way he did not like.
“Cara, you don’t need that,” he told her. “You need more coffee, breakfast, and to sit down at the kitchen table with people who give a shit about you.”
“Everything okay?”
This came from the door where Asheeka was standing, eyes on Frankie.
They moved to Benny when he said, “Got this, darlin’. Be down in a minute.”
She bit her lip, looked to her girl, hesitated indecisively, then nodded in a way that Benny knew she didn’t like doing it. After that, she disappeared.
Frankie paced throughout this.
Benny approached, gently pulled her in his arms, and put a stop to it.
She didn’t put her arms around him, nor did she remove her hand from her middle.
“You got pain?” he asked.
“I was premature in upping my doctor-ordered exercise to a dramatic dash up a flight of stairs,” she answered.
Fucking N
at.
“Right. Then I’ll carry you downstairs, you’ll lie on the couch, eat Ma’s pancakes, visit with people who give a shit about you, and after they’re gone, you can give me what’s right now fuckin’ with your head.”
Her gaze moved to his and he could easily read what was in it before she hid it.
Panic.
He didn’t get that, but he did get he had to conquer it. Not later.
Now.
So he drew her cautiously closer. “Frankie?”
She looked to his shoulder. “You’re right. Pancakes would be good.”
“Francesca.”
Her eyes lifted to his and they were carefully blank.
Oh yeah, he had to conquer that.
Now.
“Maybe we should talk right now about what happened downstairs,” he suggested.
“Vinnie’s here. I should talk to him.”
“He’s not goin’ anywhere.”
She shook her head, her eyes drifting away, but he got them back by giving her a light squeeze.
“She’s Nat,” she surprised him by whispering the second she caught his eye. “She’s been married to Davey for five years, with him for three before that, and I know of four times she’s stepped out on him. There’s probably more. And he’s a good guy. If she’s not screwing around on him, and he’s not pissed and tryin’ to save face by puttin’ her out when everyone knows he’s gonna take her back, he treats her like gold. They don’t have it great, but they’re not starving. They got a decent place. But bottom line, he loves her. What more does she need? What’s she lookin’ for?”
Her words so closely followed his earlier train of thought about his brother, Benny found it disturbing. At the same time, it stirred something deep in his gut, which was a place he felt a variety of things stir when it came to Frankie.
But this one went deeper.
Frankie kept talking.
“I know she learned that shit from my parents, thinkin’ it’s okay to have your fun however it comes and the people around you who love you will put up with your shit or bail, and if they bail, it’s no skin off your nose. You just keep on findin’ your fun and you don’t think a thought about the people who love you that you’re hurting in the meantime.”
The Promise (The 'Burg Series) Page 10
