Franklin: A Boston Mafia Romance (The Boston Wolfes)

by Billie Lustig

  I’ve seen the way Killian looks at me. It’s different from Reign who adores me and different from Connor, who doesn’t say much but at least gives me a chance.

  Killian loathes me.

  When he looks at me, I want to run and hide. His piercing green eyes turn ominous, as if he’s trying to look through my soul. And to be honest, I can’t really blame him.

  “He has my eyes,” Franklin mocks with a playful grin.

  “Maybe, but you don’t look at me like that.”

  “Like what?” He softly brushes his lips against mine, making it hard to concentrate while his other hand strokes my back in a possessive way.

  “Like he’s about to swallow me whole when I’m not looking.” My hands reach up, holding on to his broad shoulders.

  A lustful grin appears on his face, and I instantly regret my choice of words.

  “Don’t worry, the only one who will be swallowing you whole is me.”

  “Franklin!” I push him back, pulling a laugh from him.

  “What do you want me to say, pretty girl?” He shrugs while I push myself off the wall and walk towards the bathroom.

  “The truth,” I call out, looking in the mirror. He follows me into the bathroom and wraps his arms around my stomach, my back pressed against his chest as his lips lean in to kiss the crook of my neck. He places a string of kisses on my flushed skin before he meets my eyes in the mirror.

  “He doesn’t trust you,” he pushes out with a breath, as if he’s bothered to even voice this.

  I’m not at all surprised, but I am curious.

  “Why?”

  “He thinks you know Emerson Jones, one of our enemies. Thinks you may be playing me.”

  My brows shoot to my forehead, and my mouth is suddenly dry. He sees the change in my expression, and the look on his face grows stern as his grip tightens around me.

  “Emerson Jones?” My heart is about to race out of my chest. I feel like this moment will determine my future. If I’ll be able to keep my heart in one piece, or if I’ll have to watch it get shattered alongside Franklin’s brain once I give Emerson the chance to shoot Franklin through the head. He notices my discomfort, and the look in his eyes slowly changes him into the ruthless man that everyone warned me about. The wolf who isn’t afraid to bite.

  “Kendall?” My name rumbles against my cheek, his seductive mood gone, replaced by a threatening one while his eyes turn dark, pinning me down in the mirror.

  I take a deep breath, closing my eyes, doing my best to find every ounce of courage tucked inside of me before I open them again and raise my chin.

  “I need to tell you something,” I confess, hoping and praying I’m making the right choice.

  Though at this moment, it feels like the only choice I ever had.

  His nostrils flare and a muscle tics in his jaw. There is disappointment mixed with a shitload of rage in his eyes as he roughly grabs my hips and spins me in his arms, pressing my ass against the bathroom sink, his eyes locking with mine.

  The people in this city call him ‘the wolf’, not only because of his last name, but because he’s the leader of the pack. The ultimate alpha, ready to eliminate any kind of threat. The last few weeks, I was lucky enough to see the alpha who cared for his family, his friends, and the people around him. Witnessed that he was fair, far from the cunning man people paint him out to be.

  But I see it now.

  I see it in his eyes.

  It’s like the wolf is showing me his true form, ready to rip my throat open if the next words are not the ones he wants to hear.

  “Speak,” he growls, his tone making my lashes flutter with fear.

  It’s hard to not cower under his glare right now, but for my own safety, I need to hold my own.

  I know that.

  They say to never look a wolf in the eyes, to show them you are not a threat. But in this case, I need him to listen to me, whatever it takes, or it will cost me dearly. I need to give him something to fully gain his trust and make sure I survive the next few weeks and keep my brother safe.

  “Promise me one thing,” I say while I keep my chin raised in defiance, fighting not to give in to the fear piercing my body.

  His eyes narrow, clearly losing his patience with me, so I offer him a small smile to comfort him.

  “Please.”

  “What?” he barks. Although he didn’t raise his voice, his furious energy almost knocks me out.

  “Promise me that whatever I’m about to say, you will listen until I’m completely done.”

  He stays quiet, tilting his head a little before finally he gives me a curt nod in agreement.

  I take another deep breath and close my eyes, not able to look him in the eyes until I say everything I need to say.

  “I … I d-do know him.”

  “Goddammit,” he snaps through gritted teeth, pushing his fingers into my side so hard that I wince under his touch.

  “I do know him,” I repeat clearly, ready to blurt it all out. “Better than you think. He’s my ex.”

  “He’s your…” he huffs and trails off, looking up to the ceiling in frustration. “Fuck me.”

  “Emerson Jones is the ex I’ve been talking about,” I continue, looking him straight in the eye with a pleading look when he brings his focus back to me, hoping he’ll let me finish. “We came to Boston when we were eighteen. Me, Josie, Emerson, and a few of Emerson’s friends. He wanted to leave Alabama, and I followed him here. We broke up about two years ago, even though I tried to leave him many times before that. It took me a while to realize he was abusing me, both mentally and physically, and I didn’t have the guts to leave him, fearing what he would do to me. When he found a new girl, I finally saw my chance and left. That’s the short story.” I wait a few seconds before I finally open my eyes, fearful of what I may see.

  “Why the fuck didn’t you tell me?” he snarls with fury in his voice.

  “I don’t know? Because I didn’t think I needed to give you a list of my ex-boyfriends, maybe,” I sass, turning this around on him. It’s a bullshit comment, and I hate myself for saying it because it’s a lie wrapped up in a blanket of innocence.

  A get-out-of-jail-free-card that I’m now waving in front of his face as if I’m completely innocent while I look into his fire filled eyes.

  I don’t know what I expect him to do, but whatever it is, I expect it to be painful. But instead, his face softens a little, and my heart slows down in relief when he cups my face.

  “He’s your douchebag ex?”

  I nod as I feel my eyes well up, hoping he will see the truth and be willing to give me another shot. He licks his lips before he bites the bottom one.

  “He’s the one who hurt you?”

  I shrug in response, not knowing what to say.

  What am I supposed to say, anyway?

  “Do you still see him?” I would expect this to be an accusation, but his voice is calm and warm.

  I close my eyes for a second, thinking about what I can and can’t say, choosing my words wisely.

  “He checks in every now and then, reminding me and Josie how we owe him everything. He bought our house for us.”

  “He bought you a house, and now he holds it against you? Why? What do you do for him in return?”

  “He sends packages to our house, and they get picked up by one of his men.”

  “What kind of packages?”

  “I don’t know. We never question anything. We did once, and he made us watch when he tortured this courier who stole from him.”

  “To scare you?”

  I nod.

  “That’s what he does. He likes to see people suffer.” I avert my gaze, suddenly fascinated by my cuticles as a tear escapes the corner of my eye. “I’m not as strong as you think I am.”

  His thumb brushes away my tears before he grabs my chin and forces me to look at him.

  “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” I plead, looking into his gorgeous green eyes, hoping I made the right ch
oice.

  “Ssh, it’s okay.”

  “I just want to forget about that part of my life.”

  “I believe you, Kenny.” He pushes a strand of hair out of my face before he leans in and presses a compassionate kiss on my lips. Longing for his touch, I circle his waist and tug him closer to me.

  His hand runs through my hair a few times before he rests it on my neck while I look up at him.

  “If there is anything else, you should tell me now.” He’s looking at me with a serious gaze, and my heart starts to race again. It’s like the blood is rushing through my body a hundred miles an hour. My heart and my mind wrapped up in a torturous battle.

  “Is there anything else you should tell me?” he asks again. “I told you, trust is key to me.”

  I think about his words, letting them really sink in. I debate with myself over what I should do, what I should tell him, but mostly how much I should tell him.

  Finally, I shake my head.

  “No. No, there’s not.”

  Twenty-Five

  Kendall

  Franklin turns onto a private driveway that ends in a round with a fountain in the middle. My lips part in awe when I look at the huge home with arches and pillars on the ground level. The brick walls are a soft beige while the windows and doors are a solid white, making it look cozy yet impressive at the same time.

  “This is your house?” I blurt out in awe, turning my head his way. His penthouse is spacious, modern, and luxurious. But this?

  Holy hell.

  He smiles as he rests his hand on my leg, softly squeezing.

  “This is the family home. We all live here.”

  “You grew up here?”

  “I grew up in South End. I bought this a few years ago. I wanted to give us a place we could all call home after my brothers had been in foster care.”

  My heart melts at his words, further proof of how he always does everything with his brothers in mind. He parks the car directly in front of the door, even though there are other cars parked on the side. He gets out and rounds the car while I continue staring up at the enormous mansion. With the sun starting to set and the dim lights surrounding the house, it seems like home out of a fairy tale.

  Franklin opens the car door and holds out his hand. I grab it with a smile, enjoying his chivalry.

  “Why thank you, sir.”

  “Pleasure is all mine, pretty girl.” I expect him to hook my arm in his, but instead, he holds my hand, linking our fingers as he directs us inside. As soon as we walk over the threshold, I’m greeted by the murmur of voices with an occasional laugh in between. A waiter is standing in the foyer holding a tray filled with champagne, and Franklin lets go of my hand to grab us each a glass. He gives me one before clicking our glasses, then we both sip the sparkling bubbly. As usual, his face is inscrutable, but I can see the satisfied look in his eyes as he gives me a kiss that goes through my veins, my toes curling just from feeling his lips on mine and the hand on my back that tugs me even closer to his body. I’m wishing I could kiss him like this every day for the rest of my life, when I remind myself that will never happen. When I disconnect my lips from his, I’m instantly met by a scowl.

  “It’s your brother’s birthday,” I explain to cover up my depressing thoughts.

  “I’ve been with him for his birthday for the last twenty-seven years. I’ll be there again next year. Let’s go upstairs.”

  I chuckle at his ridiculous behavior, loving how loose he is with me. He’s a man that tries to hide his emotions for the outside world, and there may not be a lot of people who would describe this man as fun, but that’s exactly what he is with me.

  “Your brother already hates me. He’ll hate me even more if I make you bail on his birthday.”

  “You’re not making me bail. I am.” He sucks my bottom lip between his before I drag my head back, trying to avoid his lips while he leans in once more.

  “Baby,” he growls, pulling another chuckle from me. Last week we grew closer, and I’m pretty sure that after Friday’s confession, he has enough feelings for me to truly trust me. But while I live for our moments together, I also dread them, feeling like a piece of trash for pretending I’m not hiding anything from him.

  “Show your face, mingle, then take me upstairs when you’re ready. Who knows? Maybe I can even win your brother over first.”.

  His lower lip juts out, which I find incredibly endearing, as he pushes a strand of my hair out of my face.

  “He’ll warm up to you, baby.”

  “I know,” I reply with a tight smile as one of Franklin’s men clears his throat.

  “Everyone is waiting for you in the ballroom, sir,” he says with a slight nod.

  “Thank you, Nigel.” He grabs my hand and leads me into the hallway.

  “Ballroom?” I hiss behind him. “You have a freaking ballroom?”

  “It’s more like a dining room.” He shrugs as he leads me into the area filled with at least thirty people, all talking and laughing with drinks in their hands. At the far end of the room is a small bar with a waiter serving drinks, while on the right side of the room is a long table that is set up as a buffet. The hardwood floor is shining like it was freshly oiled, serving as a small dance floor, and in the middle of the room hangs a colossal chandelier, illuminating the entire room.

  Everything is gorgeous.

  “Yeah, I’ll have to go with Nigel on this one,” I quip. “This is definitely a ballroom.”

  “It’s not, but you can call it that if you want to.” I’m glowing under his teasing tone as he gives me another peck on the lips.

  “Evening, brother.” Killian comes up behind us, slapping Franklin on the back before his suspicious eyes land on me. “Kenny.”

  “Happy birthday, Killian.” I give him a friendly smile, even though I know he doesn’t want me to be here. Franklin convinced me to come with him, even though he never answered my question when I asked him if Killian wanted me to be there.

  He doesn’t.

  He doesn’t trust me, and I can’t blame him. Every suspicion he has about me is true, and I respect him even more for trying to protect his brother. Too bad it just makes everything that much harder. Not to mention scarier.

  “Thanks,” he retorts curtly before turning his attention back to his brother. “Can we talk?”

  “In private?” Killian eyes me with a look of disdain that causes cold shivers to run down my spine, but I roll my eyes to keep up the appearance of being unaffected.

  Franklin looks at me with a pained expression, probably hesitant to leave me by myself in a room full of people I don’t know.

  “It’s alright. I’ll keep Kenny company.” An arm falls over my shoulder, and I look to my left to find Reign, who is looking at his brothers, wearing a playful grin. Franklin gives his brother a warning glare before turning his attention to me.

  “I’m good, really.” I encourage with a smile, feeling more confident now that Reign is by my side.

  “Are you sure?” He leans in, brushing his nose against mine.

  “I’m sure.”

  “Okay, I’ll be right back.” He presses a kiss to my forehead before he points his finger towards Reign.

  “Make her uncomfortable and I will make you uncomfortable.”

  Reign, unimpressed, just rolls his eyes.

  “Well, that’s nothing new. Bye, Franklin.” He waves his hand towards his brother before tugging me with him towards the bar, his arm still draped over my shoulder.

  “What do you want? A vodka lime?” He taps the bar to grab the attention of the bartender before giving me a questioning look.

  I nod in response, examining Franklin’s youngest brother as he places our order. His hair is brighter than Franklin’s, and Reign as a whole is lighter than Franklin, who carries a heavy energy. Reign seems to always be smiling, while Franklin rarely smiles. They seem to be opposites in everything they do, yet the resemblance between the two is striking. Different from Killian and Connor
, who own the same green eyes but are still very different.

  “What?” he asks with a grin when he hands me my drink, catching me staring.

  He turns around, leaning his back against the bar, taking a sip of his whiskey.

  “Nothing.” I shrug. “You just look a lot like Franklin.”

  “I’m nothing like my brother.” He huffs, looking slightly offended.

  “What happened?” I ask, thinking back to all the banter I’ve witnessed between the two of them. It’s not the same banter they share with their other brothers. No, the banter between Reign and Franklin is filled with emotion, as if there is a lot of unfinished history between the two of them.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Franklin told me how the two of you used to get along better than any of your brothers. Clearly, that’s not the case anymore. What happened?”

  He sucks in a deep breath through his nose before taking a sip of his drink, then he exhales loudly.

  “Can’t believe he told you that.”

  “He didn’t tell me anything else, no details, he just mentioned that.”

  He runs his hand through his light brown hair, a few strands flopping back onto his forehead while I look at him in anticipation.

  “It’s complicated,” he states, looking at me with a small grin. The look on his face is still open and friendly, but there is a finality in his voice that tells me he doesn’t want to talk about it.

  This last month, it felt like Reign and I developed some kind of friendship, an understanding that makes us respect the other. Not wanting to ruin that foundation we seem to have, I tilt my head before smiling in understanding.

  “Will you tell me one day?”

  He nods his head, looking into the room while his elbows lean on the hardwood surface.

  “Sure.”

  “Good,” I reply before taking a sip of my vodka, mirroring his stance.

  Franklin is still talking to Killian on the other side of the room, yet his focus remains completely on me. Heat flashes up my face, so I take another sip while I keep my eyes locked with his from above the rim of my glass.

  “He’s falling for you, you know?”