I wake up disoriented and hungry as hell. My eyes slowly adjust to the complete darkness in the room. Careful not to wake Frankie up, I reach for my phone and see that it’s nearly midnight. Holy fuck, I can’t believe everyone left us alone for this long. There’s a quiet knock on the door—I spoke too soon. Quickly pulling the comforter up to be sure Frankie is completely covered, I slip out of bed and pull on my discarded sweatpants and pad over to the door, opening it to see who the fuck is here this late.
“Hey, brother, I just got back from dropping Pop off. Just checking to see if you need anything and to see if the Princess is doing okay.” Mav looks tired and worried. He’s been working his ass off trying to make sure this doesn’t all turn into a bigger clusterfuck than it already is.
“Why was Pop still here?” I ask as I lead him down the stairs to the kitchen.
“Everyone has been here all day. Guy and Pop got here after the meeting over at EWF. Neither one of them wants to let her, fuck, even you, out of their sight.”
“How did that go?” I ask hesitantly. He sighs loudly,
“Could’ve gone worse, little brother. Could’ve gone better too, but it is what it is. All we can do is wait and see what charges you face, if any, and what happens with Drew.” Nodding my head in understanding, I turn and start rummaging in the fridge, pulling stuff out to make omelets.
“You eating, bro?” I call from inside the freezer, taking stock.
“You got any of that jarred queso shit you love so much?”
My head pops around the open door, “Is that a trick question? Of course I do. It’s in the pantry. Grab the bread out of there too,” I call after him as he saunters to the huge butler’s pantry.
“Just let me go wake Frankie up. Start making some potatoes. Don’t forget the oil this time, dumb ass,” I yell to him from the foot of the stairs. My feet don’t even hit the third step when Frankie comes into view at the top, standing on the landing in nothing but my t-shirt. The smile that takes over my face at seeing her is easy. Those smiles have been few and far between lately.
“Hey, Princess. I was just coming to get you. You hungry?”
Her eyes dart away from me and she nods. The fuck? She better not start this shit. I’m well aware that having sex didn’t just fix all of our problems, but I thought it would at least put us in a better place. Maybe she needs fucked again to help her along to my way of thinking. At that thought, I let my gaze roam over her, sexy red painted toes, bare legs tanned and toned and slightly fucking scraped up, that dip in her waist that shows off the curve in her hips, and that damn bubble ass. I need in that ass. My eyes make it all the way up to the words inside a bearded silhouette—“She Liked the B so She Stayed for the D”—covering her tits, and finally to her face flushed from my eye fucking. I smirk knowingly. I refuse to make this easy on her. I’ve been too easy for too long now. She’s about to get the full Deacon effect from here on out. “Can you walk?”
She looks at me confused. “Yes, why wouldn’t I be able to walk?” Her brows are drawn low in confusion.
I let the smirk through again and shrug. “We fucked like beasts just a little bit ago, baby. You fell asleep about fifteen seconds later, so I’m pretty sure I wore your ass out,” I say smugly. Frankie blinks slowly. Ignoring me, she starts down the stairs—on shaky legs. When she reaches the bottom, I offer her my hand, which she takes, much to my surprise. I can’t resist and pull her into my chest, placing a kiss to my spot before dropping her hand and wrapping my arms around her. All the playfulness leaves my body when I hear her sniff back tears, tears that are making a track down my chest.
“Ahhhh, baby. You know I can’t handle you crying. What’s wrong?” I ask, placing a kiss to the top of her head, swaying back and forth, hoping to soothe her. Frankie pushes away from me and wipes the tears left on her face.
“Nothing, I just—it was nice to forget everything while we were up there.” She points behind her to the staircase and my room. “I didn’t have to think about anything but the way you make me feel, and it’s been so long since that’s all I had to do that I just feel a little overwhelmed right now.” Shrugging, she puffs out a little laugh, “Then you go ahead and hit me with all of that ‘Deacon’ and it’s like a fucking tsunami.” As she says that, her stomach lets out a loud growl.
“When’s the last time you ate, Princess?”
“What day is it?” she asks me. I’m pretty sure she’s serious.
“Come on, Sleeping Beauty. Let’s feed you. We have a shit ton to talk about.”
“Can we talk now, about last night?” Frankie asks quietly, tugging on my hand. “They wouldn’t tell me anything at the hospital and Detective Adams just said that you were fine, just answering some questions. I don’t even know where the hell they took Andrew.” She says, hiccupping back tears.
“Hey, shhhh. Look at me.” I murmur, pulling her back into my arms. When her eyes are focused on me I do my best to ease her worries, “I’m here right? They didn’t throw me in jail. And most importantly you’re fine.” Smiling reassuringly, “The rest can wait, yeah?” When she nods I take her hand, pulling her behind me, “Come on, we’ll eat and talk.”
We walk to the kitchen, and she stops on the way to put the sound system on. I’m surprised she hadn’t done it sooner; it’s usually the first thing she does the minute she walks in the house. Maverick smiles at her as she strolls in, tugging the shirt down her legs. I forgot he was even here.
“Hey, Princess. You feeling better? You look better,” he says, glaring at me. She looks like she’s been fucked. Her hair is all sexed up and she has beard burn on her neck. I just grin and help her onto the stool at the island.
I place a kiss on her wrist, then lean in and whisper against her ear, “As soon as my brother leaves, we’ll talk about us. And how as soon as I get you back upstairs, I’m going to take you again so all you have room for in that beautiful head of yours is me. Same as your pretty, little pussy.” She gasps and I laugh. It thrills the fuck out of me that I can still shock her. My hand brushes lightly over her head and her soft hair. I freeze when I feel a large bump and she winces away from my touch. “Shit, I’m sorry, baby. Did I hurt you?” I lift my chin toward the ceiling indicating that I mean when I had fistfuls of her hair in bed.
“I didn’t notice at the time,” Frankie says softly.
I search her face, looking for signs that she’s lying to me. Satisfied that she’s not, I ask, “Do you have any pain pills or anything from the hospital?”
“No, I didn’t want them. I’ll take some Tylenol. I need to eat something first though.”
Mav walks over to where she sits, sliding onto the stool next to her with the bottle of medicine and a glass of orange juice, “Cook for us, chef Deacon, we’re hungry.” Lazy ass, he knows how to make a damn omelet.
“Garbage omelet, okay, Princess? Or do you want something else?” I ask, pulling pans and turning to the stove to fire up the bacon. Glancing over my shoulder for her answer, she nods and goes back to Mav, the two of them playing with the iPad that controls my whole damn house now. TVs, stereo system, alarm, thermostat, everything. I love it . . . when I can find the fucking thing. One of them raises the volume on the song being played, Alabama Shakes, that’s gotta be my girl, she loves them. The muscle in my jaw starts ticking as I think about her being hurt by that fucker. “What did they say at the hospital, Frankie?”
“A mild concussion. They just did some tests, told me what to watch out for and sent me home. They wanted me to stay for observation, but I needed to be out of there. I needed to be here.” She says it so softly that I almost don’t hear her over the popping bacon in the pan, but I hear her.
“You’re okay though, right? Should you have stayed?” I ask sternly.
“No, I’m fine. Tired and a little sore, but other than that, I’ll be okay,” Frankie assures us. Flipping the omelets, I set each of the burners to low as I grab plates and silverware and pop bread in the toaster. I take a minute to gather my thoughts. I have a million fucking questions for her, but I have no clue where to start and I need to be easy with her and not get all worked up. Easier said than done.
Bringing everything over to where they sit, heads bent together over the tablet, I take it from them and replace it with their plates when they look up at me all indignant. “You two wanna eat or what?” I ask, my brow raised.
“Thank you, Deac.”
“Yeah, thanks, fucker face.”
The Princess snorts out a laugh, “Good one, Mav!” and high fives him.
“If you two are finished being cute . . .” I say, trying to hide my amusement. I miss this. The Princess and her Loves just hanging out, busting each other’s balls.
They both grin and dig into their food. I eat standing across from them so that I can actually see her face while we talk about everything that’s been going on.
“How long have you been getting shit from him, Frankie?” I’m careful to not use his name.
I watch as she stiffens, her fork frozen in front of her open mouth.
“Since right after that night. That’s when the phone calls started, then the letters and pictures,” she says in a resigned voice before taking her bite, eyes cast down.
Every cell in my body, every muscle, every bit of every-fucking-thing inside me goes molten with anger, rage, an unnamable feeling that takes over and makes me see red. The air around us crackles with my fury.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Mav staring at her, mouth agape before saying, “Oh shit,” as he soundlessly slips off of his stool and takes his plate with him into the other room. Frankie sits, squirming on her seat, still avoiding eye contact.
My hands tremble with the need to crush her to me. I’m not sure whether I want to shake the shit out of her or bend her over my knee and spank her. I have to have misheard her. As calmly as I possibly can, I push my plate aside. “I’m sorry. I didn’t hear you. For a minute there I thought you said that you’ve been harassed with letters, pictures, and phone calls for months. Months where you were in my bed, in my arms. Months where you kept your fears from me while we told each other that we loved one another. Months where I could’ve made sure you were safe, where you didn’t have to be afraid. Fucking months where you were my girl and you denied me the chance to take care of you.” My voice is raised louder than I intend, my fists clenched so tight they’re starting to cramp in protest. The simple task of breathing a huge fucking chore right now as I struggle to regulate it and my out of control heart rate. “Now, please. Please, tell me that I misunderstood what you said because I know in my fucking heart you wouldn’t keep something that fucking big from me. Not my girl, not my best friend, the woman I love, would die for, kill for.” Looking at her imploringly, I see the truth. The tears in her eyes, running down her face, all the answer I need. Before I have a chance to rein it in, my arm sweeps everything off the island in a deafening crash of broken glass and clattering cutlery. The Princess jumps, stunned, and sits back in her seat, eyes screwed tightly shut. Head hanging down, I grip the edge of the granite countertop and concentrate on breathing in and out.
Maverick comes skidding to a stop in the doorway but halts his advance when without raising my head, I point for him to leave. Once he’s turned and left, I stand straight and make my way around to where Frankie is, sobbing into her hands. It kills me to see her like this. That I’m a part of this pain. Wordlessly, I scoop her up in my arms and cradle her to my chest. The muscle in my jaw jumps in time with my racing heart as I walk her up the stairs and into my room. Instead of going straight to the bed, where I would like to take this for the next few hours just so I can love on her, I head to the sectional in my office, the one that faces the fireplace so that I can see our story spread out in front of me on my mantel, hanging on my wall. It calms me and reminds me who I’m dealing with, who I have in my arms. She would never hurt me on purpose. She’s always been in my corner, loved me even when it should have been impossible to do. There was a reason she kept this from me, from all of us, and I’m about to find out what.
Settling us into the supple leather, I position her on my lap with her legs draped over me to the side and her head cradled in the crook of my arm so that I can look at her while we discuss this. Though right now her face is still buried between my neck and shoulder. I let my head fall to the back of the couch and release a deep breath. My eyes close and I focus on the music filtering around the room, letting it wash over me as I hold my girl and let her cry while I run my hands up and down her back, doing my best to soothe her. The words of the song penetrate the numb feeling taking over my mind.
“Who sings this?” I ask softly, trailing my fingers over her bare thigh.
Her normally raspy voice is now hoarse from crying. “Sam Smith and John Legend,” she sniffles. Nodding I go back to listening and stroking over her, waiting.
I’ve stalled long enough. “Why didn’t you tell me, Frankie? Why didn’t you tell anyone?” She sighs loudly, accepting that she can’t get out of this.
“At first I didn’t tell you because things were so strained between us and you had the guys with me all the time anyway, so I didn’t think I should bother you with it.” She plucks at the strings on the throw pillow as she talks to me. I open my mouth to argue, but she goes on, “Then we were together and even though they were still coming, I felt safe. I knew no harm would come to me when I was with you. Plus you were training for your big comeback.” Glancing up at me, I watch as she gathers her confidence and melts back into my arms a bit more. “Then we weren’t together anymore and I was terrified. All the time I was scared, but I couldn’t tell you because you would’ve fixed it and doing that would interfere with your matches.”
“The fights, Frankie? That’s why you didn’t fucking tell me? None of that matters more than you!” I say completely exasperated.
Her head bobs in agreement. “I know that, Deac. I know that you would have done anything to make it all go away.” She brushes a tear gliding down her cheek before going on, “I had no doubt you would protect me, but I couldn’t do that to you. I had already taken so much from you. You were busting ass trying to make your way back into the standings, training harder than I’d ever seen you train, and if I said a single word about any of it, you would’ve dropped everything you have been working for and rescued me.” I watch as her eyes dart away. “So instead I made sure I was never alone, and I kept everything he sent for the detectives.”
My teeth ached from grinding them together while she spoke. “Why didn’t you tell one of my brothers or Reggie? Fuck, your dad even, Princess,” I bite out. I can’t understand why the fuck she would shoulder this. That she has been going through this alone and that I’ve been clueless to it eats at me.
“Every one of them would have told you,” she says quietly as I push the hair off of her forehead and tuck it behind her ear. “I wanted to tell you so bad, Deac. Every day I wanted to just run to you, admit everything, and beg you to make it go away. I needed you, more than I ever have before, and I couldn’t go to you.” Her voice is full of anguish; it’s like a punch to the face.
“No, it’s not that you couldn’t; it’s that you wouldn’t. No matter what, Princess, I told you that nothing would ever come between us. We’re a part of each other, remember? That’s never gonna change.” She gives me a watery smile, reaching out to finger my chain and the charm lying against my chest.
“I love when you wear this. You have the tattoo, but it always makes my heart smile when I see your half of the coin around your neck.” Her thumb brushes over the letters engraved into the metal while I watch her.
“Frankie, don’t keep shit from me. Not to protect me, not because you think it’s what’s best. You’re what’s best for me. You being safe and happy and whole. That’s what I need, you feel me?” With a finger under her chin, I force her to look at me. “You feel me?” I repeat. I need her to understand that even now, when I’m not sure where we stand, that she comes first. Her eyes dart over my face before settling on my unblinking gaze.
“I feel you, Deac,” Frankie answers softly, putting her lips over the Mizpah charm and then curling into me quietly. “Can we talk more later? I just want to sleep now. I’m so tired again.”
I stand with her still in my arms, her head against my chest and go into the bedroom. Laying her in the bed and crawling behind her, tucking her against me. “Sleep, baby. The rest can wait for now.” Raising her wrist, I place a kiss first on the other half of the charm dangling from her bracelet and then to my spot.
Tomorrow. Tomorrow I’ll break the news to her.
“Princess. Jones.” I greet them both with what I think is my most disarming smile. I’m going to need all the help I can get when I drop this bomb on them.
“Morning, Deac,” Frankie says, returning my smile, happy to see me.
“Why the fuck are you smiling like that? What do you want?” Indie looks at me through narrowed, suspicious eyes and then turns to Frankie. “What does he want? Look at him, he’s totally trying to use his swoony shit on us.” Crossing her arms, she covers the “I’m a Vagitarian” scrawled across her chest and cocks her eyebrow. “You can save all that nonsense; it won’t work here. Your bad boy hotness and bedroom eyes have no effect on me.” She indicates Frankie with a tilt of her chin. “It may work on this one but not me. Whatever you want, stop being a cuntasaurus and just say it.”
The fuck? What did she just call me? Taken aback, I forget for a second what I came in here to tell them as I listen to Frankie laugh at Indie’s antics. Then I remember that I have news. Big news. News that affects us all and that I’m kinda dreading telling them. There’s gonna be dramatics, I’m sure. I have nothing prepped, no speech practiced to ease them into what I’m about to say, so I just cut to the chase. “Indie, your place isn’t safe enough for you two right now. You’re both moving in here until all of this shit blows over. We’ll all go pack up your shit as soon as my brothers wake up.” There, it’s done. I give them a nod and reach into the cabinet for my coffee cup, filling it up as I count down in my head for the detonation I’m certain is coming.
“You must be out of your motherfucking mind if you think I’m moving in here with you two. Especially if you’re using that smile on her!” she accuses. “Frankie won’t last five minutes against it and I’m not gonna be locked away while you two are going at it like rabbits all over the damn place, and I know that’s what you’ll do,” she huffs out. “The way you’re looking at her, even now, with me in the room, tells me you want to bend her over something and would probably let me watch just so you could get at her.” Indie turns to Frankie and says reassuringly, “Not that I would watch, because as hot as you are, you’re like a sister to me and it would just be a little too weird.” I’m fighting back my laugh and doing my damnedest to smother my smile, but she’s fucking crazy. Bat shit crazy. She turns her attention back to me, “So the answer is no. Fuck no. Hell to the fuck to the no even.”
“Fine, you can stay at my place then,” Maverick says from where he’s leaning against the doorframe, startling us all. I look back at Indie, my brows raised. Well, this just got interesting.
“There ya go, Jones. Problem solved,” I tell her mockingly and smile at the wide open mouth and stunned look on her face at Mav’s solution. Swinging my gaze to Frankie, it’s my turn to cross my arms over my chest and widen my stance in preparation for a fight. “I’m not taking no for an answer, Princess. You can’t keep shit from me if you’re in my house where I can make sure that you’re safe. This is—”
“Okay, Deacon,” Frankie says simply. No arguing, no pouting. Just, “okay,” before she goes back to her coffee and the iPad in front of her. I look around the room in confusion. Mav and Indie are in a heated discussion, so they don’t even realize that my girl clearly hit her head harder than they thought.
“I don’t mean for the night, Princess. I mean you’re moving in for the next few months or however long it takes for the case to go to trial.” I say it slowly so there’s not any room for misinterpretation. She looks up at me and nods.
“Okay. Do I have to go with or can I stay he—?” Shaking her head as she’s speaking, she changes her mind midsentence, “No, I’ll go. I don’t want Reggie and Trent packing my panties and stuff.” Slipping off the stool, she leaves me standing in the kitchen completely stunned by how easy that was. I was prepared to use force if necessary. I’m a little worried that I didn’t have to resort to underhandedness to get her to agree.
Frankie turns at the door. “I’ll be ready in just a minute, Deacon. Indie, are you coming with us?” she asks her pain in the ass friend.
“No, I guess I’m going to stay over at Mav’s. We’ll go and get my stuff later. I have a consult for an engagement party in a little while.” Indie snaps her fingers and turns to me, “Speaking of parties, we gotta get started on Frankie’s, Deacon!”
Just as I’m about to agree with her, Frankie says, “Not this year. I want to skip the big party. I would much rather do an intimate dinner, just you, our dads, and my Loves, if you guys don’t mind. We can even celebrate yours and mine together.” She doesn’t wait for us to answer before leaving the kitchen.
I watch her leave and then turn to Indie, “You heard her. Do you want me to handle it or are you going to so that you can charge me a million dollars?” I deadpan.
Indie snickers, “I’ll do it and I’ll only bill you a half mil, no worries.”
The women in my life are gonna be the fucking death of me, I swear.